Poems
Original Poetry by Warren GastonWurds. Wirdz. Werds.
Can we experience texture from text? First, Helen Keller famously touched tactility, cool, viscous slippering flow, next, Anne Sullivan pressed into Helen's palm the abstract signifier: w-a-t-e-r, cuneiform, a proxy for the real. Texture before text. Can the smack of...
The History of “If”
If the future has a past, then does the past have a future. If you draw a straight line from where we have been and extend it through where we are now, you get a pretty good idea of where we are going. If you don ’t like...
Modification
All adjectives are dependent on nouns. Without nouns, adjectives are nothing. You can’t just have tall or short. Something has to be tall. Something has to be short. Nobody says, “Look! There’s short.” Nobody says, "Tall looks shorter today." My natural life on earth...
Damage
There is damage to be fixed. Then there is damage caused by the fixes?
Fortified Mortified
“We have met the enemy and he is us.” Pogo We are safe behind the Maginot Line the Siegfried Line dug in, fortified, We placed cannons pointed out at the enemy, Look !!! Over there !!! - - -...
Designing Tomorrow
"You know the name you were given, you do not know the name that you have” ― Jose Saramago, All the Names Today I spent designing tomorrow. I want it to be a radiant solar day. At least I think that's what I want. I'll see. I set the time for the moon to rise tonight...
Human Ages in Stages
We name the stages of our very human ages: Epochs. Eras. Periods. Phases. ਯੁੱਗ. The Stone Age. The Iron Age. The Ice Age. The Dark Ages. The Age of Enlightenment. The Middle Ages. How did they know? To locate time in the middle, you have to know two things: the...
The Yellow Light
Yesterday, while driving, the car behind me honked. My offense: I stopped at a yellow light. I could have gone through, glimpsing up at the glimmer of red as I shot past the intersection on my way down the road. Chances are I would have safely made it, and the tailing...
Untimely Eulogy
My 50 year-old friends are impolite. They discuss my life within earshot, as if I wasn’t there. Sooner or later, I won’t be. I'm happy to hear them rehearse my biography. I listen, a eulogy of sorts, the good, the bad, the ugly, characteristics, habits, hobbies,...