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Kinetic Writing
I have run across Kinetic Art again recently and it made me wonder about the possibility of kinetics being applied to the written art form. In the visual arts it is not so much about a "moving" picture or words like in film media, but about the illusion generated by the movement of the viewer around a static artwork. Could this be done with poetry or prose? Enter an attempt if you like :)

Adoptive premonition.

Staring at the painting.

Fascinated by the bird in flight.

Soaring over the vacant building.

Suddenly theres a flash of light from the window.

I rush over and look out the window,I’m in awe there’s a large bird in near distance it flying over an an abandoned building.

I move on to another painting close to another window.

I see in the art a one armed man playing a harmonica.

Its titled Mono Blues.

I go to the window,I look out the window towards the street.

And there’s a one armed man playing.

I decide to go to another window and take a look,and then go back to another painting and compare.

I take a look out the window,and I cant believe my eyes.

I see the abandoned building there’s the bird soaring but the one armed harmonica player is riding on the back of the bird.

I hurry back to the painting.

I take a look at it it’s all white and fuzzy titled Imagination.

Hey,What’s going on here?!

What do you mean?

I explain what’s happening to the security guard.

He says sir,it’s all in your mind!

Then his walkie talkie screams.Emergency in the basement and he runs off.

I decide to leave the gallery,and get some air.

As Im walking by another painting I notice a man on the ground with a weapon held to his head.

Its titled Sir it’s all in your mind.

I glance at another painting,now there’s two men on the ground wrestling.

And its titled Help Me!

The basement!!

I run down the stairs.

I hear screaming.

I follow the voices into a dark room.

I turn on the lights.

Theres no one in here.

The room is filled with paintings,and there’s a tape playing.

I turn of the tape player and the screaming stops.

Theres five paintings I recognize.

The rest are blank.

I run back up the stairs,tripping,hitting my head.

I get up dazed and confused.

My memory of everything that just happened in the gallery is gone.

I go home to my family.

As I’m resting in my chair.

I hear my wife and seven year old adoptive daughter come in the house.

Daddy Daddy!

She holds out a drawing!

Do you like it Daddy?

Its a picture of you!

See Daddy,You’re lying down on the ground!

Why am I on the ground sweetie?

Cause you fell Daddy!

Are you okay Daddy?

Daddy?!!

Yeah,Daddy had a weird dream.

What’s it called sweetie.

Daddy FELL.She starts to laughFOR IT!!!