Skip to main content

Hypnopompic



This morning we woke to find the earth had a new skin.
Cold, opaque, so smooth we could not walk on it.
It had grown over the cars so we could not move them.
It was not as obdurate as thought, and wore thin by mid-afternoon.
The cars were wet, unskinned, and could be moved: tentative at first.
We coaxed ourselves along the roads, vigilant for lingering shreds.
Between tyre and tarmac is a place where friction makes a positive contribution.
Later, night brings a white hypnosis; in the headlights, falling, mellifluous, muffled, profuse, resolute.


Comments

Suze said…
I really love 'white hypnosis.' There are these word combinations that you come up with that I love because they are at once novel and familiar. I don't think that's easy to do but you make it appear so.
23 January 2013 at 00:29
Gina Gao said…
I'm sorry that its still so cold for you guys!

www.modernworld4.blogspot.com
23 January 2013 at 02:55
Lisa Southard said…
Suze: Warming compliments! My novel yet familiar ways are the result of a brain that seems always a bit sideways anyway, and eons of practice. Often feels like the words find me, or are waiting patiently for me to notice them.
Gina: We have the fire lit and stodgy food- and when the sun shines here we really really appreciate it! I checked out your blog- like your idea of giving numbers to commentators on posts, so the vulnerable can speak without fear of peer group reprisals.
23 January 2013 at 13:11
Anonymous said…
what is that first pic??
23 January 2013 at 16:39
Lisa Southard said…
Mr Bama: it's accumulated ice on the valve of an old milking machine. Weird & fabulous :-)
23 January 2013 at 23:18
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
2 comments
Read more

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...
26 comments
Read more

A Glitch Or Two

My Chromebook has been crumbling. It seems a little like dementia, this inability to upgrade its powers of communication, it makes me sad, even for an object. It's one of the reasons my posts here have been put aside, that and generally being tumbled by tiredness. I have saved up money for a replacement, also I have spent that money on trees and shrubs. I have two novels to sort out however, and this will be the reason I save up again. I don't stop writing, even if I don't tell anyone. In the meantime should you need a calm place to go, I have begun a substack account. Please do drop by. If the kettle crumbles we can make tea (or soup) on the firepit. Me on substack:  Lisa Southard
Post a Comment
Read more