Wednesday, 18 July 2012


i twist words
i wrestle
with authors
dead or alive

this is a contact sport, dangerous for both sides

the "original" stays on the page
laughing at me and taunting
approximations of meaning tumble
from the dictionary
my best friend

putting the words into a bag i give them a good shake and then take a lucky!
dip, to re-arrange them on a new page
or stare at the same sentence until my eyes water waiting for divine
until both
source and target language
(mother! tongue)
blur into meaninglessness

sometimes the practised routines fall apart
slipping into someone else's skin i begin
to see the world through the eyes of their words
for a moment, i paint with someone else's colours
sing with someone else's voice...

(work in progress. just to express some feelings i had while working)

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