Sunday, 1 May 2011

haikus for empty room and fugue

the song is a tool;

yes, a graceful growing vine

used to harmonize

planets in our souls,

each star becomes a moment

measurement of shapes

beyond here and now

wetware encapsulating

further to remain

black white infinite

endless spiral transistor

light, or time travel?

tune imperfect cents

J.S. Bach would have wanted

a synthesizer

the harmony of the spheres () <| () () ()

is why i am in our ear () () () () () () ()

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