Whooshup Reorganization

To reflect what this blog has become, the format has changed to emphasize the enormous number of useful links to resources we provide. To go to the whooshup blog and conversations about these resources, just scroll to the bottom of the lists of resources!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

A poem I wrote at this season, long ago...

November snow, a quilted white aphasia,
Scuttles past out-scoured features
and scattered faces in a man-made maze of
frozen glass and gritty concrete seizures.

Injected anasthesia grips the unreal city,
Smothers in a welcome chloroform of cold
My unanchored premonitions from a litany
Of autumn evils awkwardly foretold.

Wrapped in numb amnesia, snow, November's gift,
Soothes embattled senses, lures out illusion
To replace fragments of reality adrift,
As the intimacy of cold negates confusion

Gazing at the falling snow I am steeled
To weather now the world's insanity, congealed.


foundrysmith said...

Thanks Karl, I was inspired to write this a few minutes ago:


The rains came again and again
In corn stands, prairie puddles hold sway
John Barleycorn ferments away, with ears in grain
Draymen axle deep in mud and debt will pay

Karl Tyson said...

That's really good Dean.