Jeca A boy knelt by the glinting brook
Once a time ago
He pressed his thumbs into the clay
Made something from his soul.
Another came to add her name
And so the artwork grew
Though set the sun last eve on one
Great work; it rose on two.

Then three, then more;
This valley floor
Drew crowds from all around
Many came to art
And lay their hearts upon the ground.

“My very name could charm the birds—
Is it my fault people take note
“I don’t really care for you
Another person wrote.
“I live where the sun hits first!
The best land in my name
“I love the greatest man alive
Another did exclaim.
“I hurt inside, sometimes I cry;
She left me all alone
“I fear the day will come when I
Will find my hair is gone
“I dream one day we’ll touch the stars…”
Another line had read,
A man was writing over where
That passage would have led.

“That was MY place in the clay
Someone began to shout.
“Nonsense, I’m too important
For a place that’s roundabout.
They want to hear what’s in ME…”
And to make a story short,
The argument fell to angry taunts
And mud flew in retort

A boy knelt by the muddy brook
And looked upon the ground
And all at once the fighting stopped
And silence circled round
The art was gone; not anyone
Could see what once was read
But in the tattered words were left
Something new, instead:
“My name is you; I live, I love, I hurt, I fear, I dream”
The people stopped and saw their own reflections in the stream.

Art’s a window to the soul
Of its maker, this is true;
But you know it takes its truest form
When you see us ALL there, too.
Dafremen Scales measure weight...mirrors measure insecurity. Even blather_mirrors. (That's why I never look at what I type, I just type it.) 021006
Jeca is my insecurity showing? 021013
Jeca *tugs down shirt* 021013
Dafremen Not anymore. 021013
Jeca good. 021013
She That was awesome, Jeca. 021013
takes forever to check blather thanks! 021023
reality reflects art
blather imitates life

i come to the recent file
and always find
my day
my life
in blue.

blather is an deierific entity
that knows all
sees all
and flags all
quietly, through the children that contrubute,
for posterity

bows down in wonderment once again
Deomis I never realized what I was, until I actually read what I wrote.
It was like looking into a mirror for the first time.
nonlucid I read something, relate to it, think the person makes sense
then I realise I wrote it
over and over again
z syntax holds a different truth than thought. 040723
marked . 040723
Borealis I very rarely reread blathes before posting them..
going back a few weeks later is disorienting..

though somewhat eye-opening
what's it to you?
who go