weightless soul
wholeness requires intelligence's thought
information, the international disease, brought thoughts, thoughts
fed mental schemes
own the guru
The poem above was written using only words that were pointed to at random in a magazine. Usually when we compose 'arbitrary poetry' (our crowd is quite partial to this parlor game) we just call out words that come to mind and go from there (David Bowie supposedly used this technique to pen his lyrics).
But on the particular evening this was written, Kasey and I were aiming to create "fortune poems" - so we thought the use of a magazine would make the outcome more fate-reliant.
I quite liked mine. And since yesterday was my birthday, I thought the posting of a poem that perhaps reflects my future would be appropriate. The picture was taken in a Paris hotel, during the first waking moments of my new age.
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