Wednesday, November 12, 2003
For some reason, for the last few nights I've been getting home, switching on the computer, and just going for it. Must have a lot of things on my mind.
Quirky
“you’re quirky” she said,
“I like that.” Quirky?
Quer-key?
Cuer-kwey?
does that mean I’m weird,
a oddball?
it is true
I tend to wormhole
my conversations,
burrow into the fertile soil
of my mind
to emerge somewhere
entirely different.
But wormholes can span galaxies
and so I combine
philosophy and science
(once the same thing)
in one sentence
conversants running to catch
the tail end of thoughts.
There are days
I sprint home
from responsible work
to indulge in an orgy of poetry
days when I wear red pigtails
(just for the hell of it)
spend long evenings
luxuriating in solitude
a symphony of thoughts
warbling my life’s song
and yes, I have a Kiwi
named Pio.
Do such things make me quirky?
For once
my mind is silent
on such matters
for what is ordinary to me
may be extraordinary in the minds of others
who is better to judge,
from within
or without?
email me: piokiwi@yahoo.com.au
Piokiwi 3:30 am
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