What Is Blog?

What is Blog?

Is it me? What is me?

Is it you? Why you?

Who are we?

Is it what I ate for breakfast?

Is it what my mommy bought me for Christmas?

Is it the weather outside? Inside?

Is it the world outside? Inside?

Is it where I'm from? Is it where I'm going?

Or is it where I wish to go?

Is it a reflection or a creation?

Is it a thing unto itself or a vessel?

Is it meeting new people?

Is it meeting yourself?

Is it a waste of time? Is it a record of time?

Is it a waste of space? Is there a difference?

Is it live? Is it a draft? Is it for fun? Is it for money?

(It couldn't be for the money, now, could it?)

Is it questions? Is it answers?

Is it doubts? Is it strengths? Is it weaknesses?

Is it love? Is it blindness? Is it immoral? Is it callow?

Is it a manic Monday or a lazy Sunday?

Is it music or sport or cinema or politics?

Is it poetry? Is it literature?

Is it writing? Is it listening? Is it reading?

Is it page views? Is it comments? Is it clicks? Is it links?

Is it community? Is it a corporate whore?

Is it an entrepreneurial whore?

Is it grammar? Is it spelling? Is it long? Is it short?

Is it humor? Is it voice? Is it tone?

Is it expertise? Is it exploration?

Is it talking or is it shutting up?

Is it self-indulgence or self-discovery?

Is it man? Is it animal? Is it science? Is it God?

Is it woman? (It could be woman.)

Is it laughter and tears, ups and downs?

Is it glances and gestures, the in-betweens?

Is it copying and pasting? Is it banging on the keyboard?

Is it bold? Is it italicized? Is it underlined? Is it serif or sans?

Is it my favorite colors or is it easy on the eyes?

Is it the content or everything but the content?

Is it a good name? What's in a name? Nothing? Everything?

Is it freedom? Is it prison? Is it life? Is it death?

Is it a question mark or an exclamation mark? Is it parentheses?

Is it hiding from or is it showing off to the world?

Is it trying or is it doing? Or is it not doing?

Is it engaging the world or is it fighting it?

Is it engaging myself or is it fighting myself?

Is it both? Is it neither? Is it everything? Is it nothing?

Maybe it's nothing.

Maybe it's a long, poetic series of reflexive questions that have no answers, yet will demand comment nonetheless.

What is Blog?

the outside

the night seeps through the very bricks themselves,

the inside just as cold as the outside.

the record player makes circles around us.

the sounds were made a long time ago; but

the music still greets.

the modest of lights begins

the journey from a place of weary,

the place of endings begins and we go forth to

the outside. the outside.

the heavy metal objects of this heavy metal world and

the empty spaces filled with plastic -- they mark

the time and progress of apes...

the... but we are merely hungry. still.

the light comes to us finally, and there

the fruit, and bread and

the holy fire transfigures the animals.

the return home we are satisfied from

the outside.

Wax

The wax crackles with sax and dust;

You can feel the spittle on the mic,

The echoes up and down your spine;

You can read the sounds with your finger.

The wax sticks, skips, repeats, remixes,

You can watch it spin around and around.

Click. Flip.

the gray

the gray metal looks like fog in the predawn glow. i feel my luck could change. slow down.

in an interstellar burst...

born again (welcome to my diegesis)

some cycles are so long they can only be seen from space,
but let's not forget it -- everything is a circle
if you walk long enough;

if you walk long enough you'll wear down the earth,
and that's the thing about circles -- you can be reborn
into a redundant footprint;

into a redundant footprint i am born again,
or i birth myself again -- am i my own mother
and is this really a circle?

or just a really small dot?