SCRIPTING
The shallow ruins
Of an empire
Needs more
Creative happiness
Than a wildfire of misery.
In creative happiness
We all dwell
Because we are still alive.
It is a sheer happiness
In what we do.
Release of misery
Is an unyielding loyalty
That makes contagious bread
Of ill will.
Although we may be brimming
With life,
We cannot remain unblinded
With misery.
We would still want to be alive
If someone is to read us
In the days to come.
Once a voice is written
It speaks louder than the meanings.
The empire of tomorrow
Runs in the veins today
And we are alive to script by design.
This blog was the successor to the poetry section of the now no longer existing The Argotist Online. This blog is also no longer active, and is now just an archive.
Poem by Stephen Bett
Novel Lines 101: 101 alphabetical poems, each riffing on the opening line of a postmodern novel or metafiction. Antonio Lobo Antunes, Act o...
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THE STUDIO The vista which then opened was one I never could’ve anticipated in the Nineties—the PAFA campus was set as a series of jeweled b...
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EQUATIONS #25 When I converse with N on the phone, in about my thirteenth year, our heads open up together, and we create an imaginative lan...
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EQUATIONS #26 Audrey, as a tangent to N, took the idea, not of broadcasting gossip but of sharing and disseminating literature, as a fait ac...