Saturday, April 25, 2009

Pixel Dust


Neighbors ~ Juan Gimenez

Her father blew the family home
The fish tank hit the lawn alone
Little Pixel hit the road
A devil suit to share the load
She made it to the underpass
Every breath became her last
Colours rained on every flower
A gift a curse the witching hour
She grew to love the road itself
Fed herself from library shelf
Met herself the perfect other
Children came to call her mother
Now Pixel’s fish tank holds no water
Lizards’ home the past has taught her
Not to take a chance repeating
Her father’s life so hard and fleeting

10 comments:

Jimmy Bastard said...

It's impossible to read this post without a real sense of quickening rhythm. The more times it is read, the more the words leap out from the screen.

If you planned for this superb reaction, then you are indeed masterful at the 'laying out of the words.'

Pure brand new.

Yodood said...

Life on the road must have taught her
Pixel, despite her rebellion, is her father's daughter
Shaped by rejection, rather than fit
The form is the same with a void at the pit.

the walking man said...

wonderfully positioned sense here in the evolution of the words. Bringing us along through millions of years in real time. Very very nicely done.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Jimmy: unfortunately these pieces are not planned in any way - I start with a sentence and run with it. Sometimes the original sentence disappears completely as the story develops. I guess I'm from the 'make-it-up-as-you-go-along school.

Dood: the basis of this (fish tank on the lawn) comes from the real Pixel's life .

Walking man: Welcome, glad you stopped walking long enough to enjoy this.

Jon said...

Nice piece here... like the slant rhyme on "water" and "taught her"... though I'm not sure it's accurate to describe it that way... but there is a disconnect at work...

well crafted

Pisces Iscariot said...

Jon: Thanks and welcome!

Harlequin said...

the rhythm is captivating and I have such a nice sense of ... a fable, I think... quite compelling; I know what you mean about words getting going and then I just seem to go along for the ride. This was a good one ( ride, I mean) Thanks.

James Higham said...

Every breath became her last - a nice way to live.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Thank you Harlequin :)

James: if only we could all live like that

L.A. Mitchell said...

I like the bookend effect here about her father...like maybe despite the fact that she's come so far, she'll forever return to thoughts of him.

Thanks so much for visiting me! I enjoyed your work...I'll be back:)