P.Nosa - Writing


Story of the Fish Artist The King of the land learns of a great Fish Artist, and seeks to commission a fish drawing. The Artist tells the King that it will take a long time for the drawing to be completed. In a year the King returns. The Fish Artist says the drawing is not done; he has been working very hard, but he needs more time. Five years pass and the King comes for his fish drawing. The Artist explains that he has dedicated all his time to drawing for the King, but that it is still not finished; he needs to keep working. The King knows the Artist's reputation and waits ten years to return. The Artist says, "King your Fish Drawing is ready". The Artist goes to a closet door. Inside there are two tall stacks of the thinnest rice paper. In the first stack there contains thousands of fish drawings. In the second, there are sheets of blank paper. The Artist takes a blank sheet, places it on the easel, and with his brush and ink; he makes the fish drawing. the voices of girls get my attention it's part monotony keeping me from intruding their smiles unable to see through the make-up i saw how each of these fabricationistas handled construction it was an amusing scenario money was lost in the affair i was thanked the question is to ease the remaining hours, perhaps the days i heard the request the laughs and giggles i'm imagining productivity over a barging of awkward removals twist me up i knew the sound was too loud a never ending claim pulses me into trembling these jittery seconds before the decision is made i've done it submersed into the thick of uncomfortable chit-chat the circle extends to a couple of conversations here on the main exit and entrance i balance extreme preoccupation i heard the sadness in my own voice it cannot be untrue some line drawn in the dirt in my imagination these kinds of borders are the hardest to cross though your beers make a pretty good bulldozer the lyrics, the lyric gets over-played in my head that point this ever approaching fixture change will seem like a mountain moving these things will happen the edges are sharper than they need to be who among the readers hasn't said this aloud the flurry of the file separates the motivated i am one of those animals looking up words in the dictionary adding profanity only when it's needed it seems dark inside out there both, always both, but it doesn't need to be said you will tell me that often this mixer of high potential it leads to smoke infatuation with reason i am no smoker i have all i need that is tangible somewhere someone is beginning a new infatuation i am so thankful for you such liberties should be best left for those disengaged frivolous mockery and cotton candy cell phones i want to place value on being present over the internet i think we all do, but this communication is so important i know we all like the ease of acting our lies lay like trash in the subconscious i deny everyone of the most vital secrets and this of course is no help but let me note: the wistful groans of bad deeds has a larger audience it was yesterday i noticed how long it had been since the voice was released. there is no stopping the definition as is only one is allowed no longer a chance glance or coming from a random supply. previously put to place, color co-ordinated, and checked ahead back-ups available we all want it done flawlessly we want to see some uniquely glorious creation; on the spot decisions that outcome praises to be on the same page is always the simple path i'm only using words but if i could include demonstrations: imagine one here don't think it's because of laziness that not more was done i see it is so easy for the bell curve to be an unknown concept we're already two pages behind and you're two pages ahead not really wanting to admit we are at the center line it's understood through timing nothing need be said these quick decisions as flippant mumbles I must back-up these are landmarks to remember like it or not these ears cannot close themselves silent i can shut my eyes not utter a sound not touch or feel but unless i am sleeping i am listening i dreamt this song all the parts on cue remembering is the hardest part The Invisible P Word where the whole lies complete backwards transition satisfied by building healthy cells basically imprisoned a body of failing parts my entirety based on financial ghosts this is the meal deal of kings a temple apart from broken recollection satisfactory landing mistletoe for a ceiling i stop to care when in abundance a wretched wait two spoons for an appetite of one your silly riddles reek of impatience this is the now of every moment of your life your life summed into equal tolerance and tension a bitter quench of all the Art ever produced by these hands i sit surrounded by so many passing toes despair in the movement retraceable events that pivot me no further into the expected lay down these weary strings my attachment to what is right directions of hope that, when unfulfilled, can release me aspire not to be like the angry driver strange mother giving birth to her own adaptation a crooked line in descent and all the other faces that cloud my thoughts nothing has meaning \ I'm starring at the ocean the disgruntled cracks in my face keep mirroring themselves in my thoughts ridiculous interactions with people who I wish were nicer they come here to play with their phones a keyboard with be nice so a nice trip with the bicycle; the latest begins a confounded traffic cluster we've all been there, yet still none of this means anything 35 completed plays of my untouched musical prowess too many benefits to muster into a keyboard instructions are necessary even with the auto correct set on every whim your wait is over and beyond the concerns of the sea life meaning more to the animals as we burn the horrors compounds created in a media frenzy i don't even need to lean in anymore this impetus for more always what we're asking for the "we" in the sense that hopefully you're here with me now even with my many attempts to sabotage our friendship because it's well known there's more to it i'm trying to make some semblance of your time here you see the details are all before and after such longevity finds respect (seemingly) only after death it's this song, or the mountain top i know you're on right now newness is my favorite taste remember the first, second, the clearly forgotten and there hasn't been any other way to say it your curious epiphanies twisted in your head these ones that meant much more at the time life can be this good don't comment on the size of my living quarters just gaze deeply into the products of attention the humans and their endless classification soon this micro computer of myself will download it means so much when i see you're starring \ overlooking the thoughts of the living desire has overcome all apathy it is me talking to you the many songs we must learn for just one to call everyone these faint vocal questions trying to be heard and intolerable mistakes in the law doubtless decisions away from the city and resting bodies avoiding check points and annual tariffs I send nothing; I receive nothing on course for someone with initiative - more waiting - 34000 MB per second and only time between us raise the volume, burn an album - voices telling me which finger to move over which switch intuition can be tedious helping with longevity and getting to those up-close points where the wave meets equilibrium how many times will a question be the seemingly right thing to ask? time to check on the wave back to the beginning i hear sharp clicks in the sound and dramatic volume sweeps now a blanket attempt to cover it all and back it off by one tiny fraction of a cent so much has been lost; pushed in both directions cursorily skimming the details waving a proverbial magic finger over the whole glowing surface perhaps for a stranger’s inspired night - a subconsciousness to be inferred it all works now - and is released as product - a reflection into technology and all the little twigs that surround us \ a couple leaves for Detroit at the same time a train carrying 20,000 tons departs from L.A. they meet up in Nebraska and the two people go separate ways for ages they strive to have what they had the conductor collects the passengers into a meaningless state a place over there that we want to call “good” we in the hometown are overheated and undercooled we offer a turbo meter for a metric ton gauges to monitor the moving parts just solid metals with claims as one no separation from land to ocean a natural destination to test the spirit the water has become too old sand permeates the layers i take responsibility for my toes drilling signs to exempt the bicycle rider mask the rules marked on old metal signs, the salty breath peels-back a message; Abstract ideas will never age and never be understood falsely a good thing coming a good thing if you can hold me in one place neighbors issue a complaint going on 3 days pulled from the sky planted in my green chair retreat with a curse; undeniably accepting the street’s address has more meaning than themselves it's calculably owned and respected numbers always win sequentially counting the road's passage i am another fixture in a line of leaves where even the oaks have more to say take away the limitless interpretations of a smile and the human reaction cannot be broken somewhere there’s a rule book lost for the common sense of man for these individuals the dimensions of a rectangle can sometimes resemble that of a triangle these inconsistent words flow in the air; clear as hydrogen a match would only ignite the fumes of frustration there is no science that explains this function we rely on female intuition these senses are true a firm well-being it’s an evolution that alters what we define as separate it is the ultimate body mark a widespread voice of strength the animals will delight in how pleasant the humans have become comprehension will be unconscious \ camping under the dream down a twisted wrinkle loose feet in touch with a calm river beating a rhythm for each and every listener opportunity between hopeful advances considering the invested risk a tiny sliver angled at a paining point the past rolls in with every chance it gets i wish to forget the reminders eliminate these very real events replace me with blankness i embark away from peripheral avenue the question arises and I will not wait for discussion throw this body for as many miles and for as many days to a word that brings an end to the haunting \ pigs catching up and making more clouds hover again in the breath of wheezing not now and not before come be dizzy squeal exhaust in the idle rush no photograph to dictate the events and days another sound surrounding a hurdle pennies in the bank, cracked twice and glued twice the cement rolls through sight keeping back real release offset an automated return howl long do the birds carrying heavy stones I’m not the one to turn round switching chairs waiting for the next event to get attention go back to Morrisey an engine stops this old house no more \ no more riddles about the next few seconds; like a line that has one end point, and again is the beginning. surround the movements of every cell like empty sincerity in believing it’s true true motivation true intent true freedom held by my own cathartic realization i maintain the utmost belief not looking ahead without thinking of behind crack goes the snare there like bells sweet hush of steadily oiled machines i needed this for a long time knowing debris scatters all about the grass outside composting amongst the same doubled paired slippers with red plaid linings steam conveyors emptying into vats by the slight beginning of thought -a cause for return metal clanging metal like a flag post chain Echo Christine Hansen’s full name going back to points following now in reverse re-routed to pristine soft-haired flower beds dare to say Halloween recreating a seemingly similar patched tattoo pinned on a jacket a guy in the darkness says,”hey” fingers touching depthless pleasure one black eye and the un-done un-did and indeed un-dead that was me at an intersection scars from the advance a period. the slightest pause off on the moment giving a horse carrots to lead it up the hill, to bring water to wet the soil, to feed the ringing of lost words caught in holding a hand of aces exposes a light; changing the colors red can glow \ energy in a cube released like smiles across the audience the exhilaration moves as easily as water pours from this cup world class purity so wide it flows sideways forming these drops of “medicine” with much haste you send your blood for analysis a fortunate character of respect awaits at the animal farm the wheels shake lint from my pockets wound-up extra lengths; accomplishments of tediocrity t.maximus superbus of ancient Rome bring music to another day at an ears width to yield some spinning bundles \ if it seems a little anxious hop on to the next realization it's about getting things done "for reals mister" they actualize in jest slang for the easily scoffing line backer R U audience members or band mates you have a job to perform and to disassociate yourself from the last to the new already old in the instant of its birth forget the rest indulge these writer's tangents the foreshadowing came in San Francisco the person i am now swallowed hard the brown pill seeping into the Ol' tunes music sound barrier time slowing appreciation now How the two-dimensional trickery pivots on a new plane singular digits fingers and numbers un-waivered thin plot of the traveler everywhere blending in earth's color in limelight you can step all over me walk in circles as the solitude returns the events stacked into inspiration all waiting at the starting line achievements actualized without the help of iphone but loving all that is available for my own invention days by the beach preparation for the noise nasality in the tone of the endearing giving rests to the spaces i was filling bringing home, turtled, and rich spoil the summer's heat with absence you envy such freedom i am your motivation \







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