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Showing posts from May, 2012

ventose

i am a ventose ventriloquist at times -- i blow wind through others' tracheas and move their mouths like muppets. my imagination served me well in childhood but these days it's just as likely to betray me. obviously there are other gears in motion though i'm not sure if mental illness or hormonal disturbance is to blame. i suppose the pills for one cause the other so who's to say which side of the bridge i began on. there are so many planks missing between a photographer from a higher altitude might develop an advertisment for a dentist (the "before" picture, of course) . who's to say how i got here but i'm here and i've got to find another path to sanity because neither side of this bridge lands there.

ventose

ventose / VEN-tohs \  adjective; Given to empty talk; windy.   The young representative fought the urge to roll her eyes as the most senior member of the assembly slowly rose to his arthritic feet. While he might have something worthwhile to say on the topic, the ventose elder would inevitably say it at least five times during his speech.

"..."

The humming from the microphone echoed and Kristen's shaky legs threatened to give out on her. How was it possible that she could spell twenty-letter diseases and speed through the lexicon of French cuisine yet flub a simple "i before e except after c"? Sweat had already begun to bead up on her forehead when the grating buzzer sounded to signal her failure. "I'm sorry; that's incorrect." The facilitator stated simply. "You may return to your seat." Eyes focused on her feet, Kristen made her way back to her folding chair. Part of her was shocked by the cold of the grey metal seat, but it was buried so far beneath her disappointment that she her body didn't react to the stimulus. How upset her would parents be to rece-ive a loser from the bus stop that afternoon! She struggled to raise her eyes to the imminent spelling champion as he approached the microphone. As he began to spell the word that was to become her terrible legacy at Shady

phatic

phatic / FAT-ik \  adjective; Denoting speech used to create an atmosphere of goodwill.   His supervisor's phatic speech could not have been more out-of-place; George was moments away from being laid off and no words could make this into a good situation.

" ... "

She studied her face in the mirror in lieu of more expensive amusements. Why spend half of her paycheck at the movie theater when she could admire her own enviable bone structure for free? Sure, a night at home wouldn’t get her any closer to the pedestal of celebrity, but at her pedestal sink, she could unabashedly pluck stray hairs from her face! She ran her fingertips over the curve of her jaw and lamented her inability to capture its beauty on canvas. Shrugging off what could not be remedied, she loosened the cap of her mascara and began to hum. She stopped the applicator wand midway to her lash pondering the lyrics beneath the tune – What is the hipbone connected to?

" ... "

Jane clutched her leg and bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. Her friend, Jessie, was panicked enough without adding four-letter words to the mix. It had been stupid of them to think that they could skip third period without consequence. They had spent weeks planning this day, but deep down Jane knew that they couldn't get away with it. They'd made extensive plans to ensure Jessie's sister's rusty sedan was available for their escapade and its owner far away on a field trip to the city. They'd brought changes of clothes (even their swimsuits, just in case Mother Nature decided to gift them with a preview of summer by the lake). They'd packed enough food to feed half the football team (because who could say for sure which of three sandwiches they'd be craving at the end of their long day). But they hadn't anticipated any broken bone s. Nor had they fully considered the double-edged sword of an escape from civilization -- their phones were merely

kinetic

moving moving always moving my mind more than my limbs my limbs more than my mind can i truly move both simultaneously? i forget what i am to remember when i move my mind elsewhere i stumble when i am to dance when i mistake one foot for another. i can only prepare for missteps because they are inevitable and i cannot anticipate everything or even the smallest fraction of things. my admission of flaws is flawless and i do not omit my tendency to omit the important nonsense in my life. can i exhale everything i inhale or will i always hold back a bit?

Circumscribe

i try to cripple your strength by talking circles around you talking with my pen as my vocal cords cannot compete with the muscles in my fingers and those in my mind. despite my strength of mind and digits i cannot confine you to a space. most days i feel that this intangible fence has fooled me into ignoring you just long enough for you to escape through the barbs and just long enough for me to stop caring so much. but other days, when noise is insufficient to shut out the incessant emptiness i hear you again. i know it's not truly you -- just my imagined you -- even so, i am transported to a place where you are central and i cannot stop wondering who you really are and why you had to leave.

spruik

i have the wind to spruik but do my words hold meaning? i often become lost in my own embellishments, never coming to the X on the map. do i live tangentially, never fated to collide with my point? i float in a universe of stars eluding their gravitational pulls. it's a peaceful life but what good does it serve? an astronaut's birthplace becomes irrelevant when home is light years away. do i need to reconnect with myself to disconnect from myself? or would a step backwards lead to a pit? surely i cannot stand still or if i do i will green as a sloth. i like green but not that kind.

spruik

spruik / sprook \  , verb; To make or give a speech, especially extensively; spiel In my adolescence, I rolled my eyes during my father's lectures. These days, we exchange minimal words -- what I wouldn't give to be beside him as he spruiks. I can't say I ever truly knew my father, but I haven't had the opportunity to try and decode his cipher for years.