Men have always prophesied the
end of days. It has been no different
in our time. Those men have always
been right and they have always
been wrong. The world ends with
every death and is renewed with
every birth. Our age is always
ending, but we are constantly
reborn.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
A Hole In The Dam
How much must we endure
Before we decide that the
Pattern cannot hold, that we
Must bring change, a new
Order, to our lives, to this
World. This world is ours
To be changed.
Before we decide that the
Pattern cannot hold, that we
Must bring change, a new
Order, to our lives, to this
World. This world is ours
To be changed.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
The Cure to Our Ills
There is no triumph in numbers.
There is no salvation through words alone.
Have our senses dulled,
our hearts weakened
through constant glowing streams?
We gorge ourselves greedily
in a hunger that knows no
bottom to its trough.
Captive eyes are only as helpless
as the mind that sits behind them.
Our great disease is
one of the mind,
one of the heart
grown cold and
confused.
We wield the instrument
to our cure but
are afraid of making
the cut, the sight
of our own blood.
There is no salvation through words alone.
Have our senses dulled,
our hearts weakened
through constant glowing streams?
We gorge ourselves greedily
in a hunger that knows no
bottom to its trough.
Captive eyes are only as helpless
as the mind that sits behind them.
Our great disease is
one of the mind,
one of the heart
grown cold and
confused.
We wield the instrument
to our cure but
are afraid of making
the cut, the sight
of our own blood.
5 Thoughts to Consider
This mask is only thing
keeping us apart.
______________
There is only isolation through our mechanized means
of communication.
______________
If there is discontent within
you must look for its root cause.
______________
I can't allow this.
______________
Change the scenery to change the experience.
______________
keeping us apart.
______________
There is only isolation through our mechanized means
of communication.
______________
If there is discontent within
you must look for its root cause.
______________
I can't allow this.
______________
Change the scenery to change the experience.
______________
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
A Rhythm That We Found
Hours pass like minutes
as sounds fill the space
between us. Afternoon
becomes evening as we
depart the heart of the city.
as sounds fill the space
between us. Afternoon
becomes evening as we
depart the heart of the city.
Monday, December 26, 2011
V. Excerpts From A False Novel In Progress
I.
This land of false winters beams down sunny days
for us to admire. No ice or snow can be found here,
only endless stretches of paved streets and palm
trees in an unnatural perversion of order.
II.
Our twin sons of Faith & Reason
are fraternal, not identical. This has always been a
problem with their Mother.
III.
This dreamworld is a sham.
IV.
The only thing we have to survive is ourselves.
V.
You were in my dream last night.
I was confused. I couldn't
understand what had happened,
why he left you. But he didn't,
did he? Just part of the dream,
the fiction the mind creates
in the absence of a heart to
call your own. What a strange
dream, what a strange dream.
Did we kiss? Did you tell me
you loved me? No one does
that. I can't laugh at it though.
This land of false winters beams down sunny days
for us to admire. No ice or snow can be found here,
only endless stretches of paved streets and palm
trees in an unnatural perversion of order.
II.
Our twin sons of Faith & Reason
are fraternal, not identical. This has always been a
problem with their Mother.
III.
This dreamworld is a sham.
IV.
The only thing we have to survive is ourselves.
V.
You were in my dream last night.
I was confused. I couldn't
understand what had happened,
why he left you. But he didn't,
did he? Just part of the dream,
the fiction the mind creates
in the absence of a heart to
call your own. What a strange
dream, what a strange dream.
Did we kiss? Did you tell me
you loved me? No one does
that. I can't laugh at it though.
transition to another year
Hours and Days
spent uselessly.
The change of
dates & month,
the subtle
differences the
calender makes
in all our minds.
We move forward
with slightly more
reason than before.
spent uselessly.
The change of
dates & month,
the subtle
differences the
calender makes
in all our minds.
We move forward
with slightly more
reason than before.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Pandemonium of the Sun
it's a mess,
thick cords of plot intertwine
allusions to past illusions
streaked glass
we've run out of means
to clean the mess
identity reclusivity
how to best disappear
easily, it would be
when no one knows you
are the streets
faces swallowed
lost in the crowd
the world outside
is never as beautiful
as the one within
only I know to go
to the only place I go.
thick cords of plot intertwine
allusions to past illusions
streaked glass
we've run out of means
to clean the mess
identity reclusivity
how to best disappear
easily, it would be
when no one knows you
are the streets
faces swallowed
lost in the crowd
the world outside
is never as beautiful
as the one within
only I know to go
to the only place I go.
Lacking
There is never enough time
There is never enough will power
There is never enough strength
There is always too little
It is always too late
And we are never enough.
There is never enough will power
There is never enough strength
There is always too little
It is always too late
And we are never enough.
The End of the Season
There is only this and nothing more.
She shut off the lights and lay quietly in the dark.
Outside a car killed its as two hands rubbed each other for warmth.
A few blocks away the bartender at the neighborhood bar
poured out shots of cheap whiskey for herself and the old man.
A policeman sat in his patrol car waiting for the next speeding
car or suspected drunk driver.
The neighbors next door were mourning their son who
was never going to come back from the war.
Across the street the godless couple sat comfortably
watching a movie together no worse for the wear of the season.
The neighborhood kids who lived in the apartments behind
the house were quiet for once.
The old grandmother a few doors down could only hear
the silence of memory, alone and encapsulating her
more wholly than death ever could.
The streets and freeways flowed smoothly
as bodies everywhere stayed at home with
friends, family and assorted loved ones.
The beaches had grown cold and dark,
the seagulls finally at rest.
She shut off the lights and lay quietly in the dark.
Outside a car killed its as two hands rubbed each other for warmth.
A few blocks away the bartender at the neighborhood bar
poured out shots of cheap whiskey for herself and the old man.
A policeman sat in his patrol car waiting for the next speeding
car or suspected drunk driver.
The neighbors next door were mourning their son who
was never going to come back from the war.
Across the street the godless couple sat comfortably
watching a movie together no worse for the wear of the season.
The neighborhood kids who lived in the apartments behind
the house were quiet for once.
The old grandmother a few doors down could only hear
the silence of memory, alone and encapsulating her
more wholly than death ever could.
The streets and freeways flowed smoothly
as bodies everywhere stayed at home with
friends, family and assorted loved ones.
The beaches had grown cold and dark,
the seagulls finally at rest.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Rush Hour Traffic on Christmas Eve Eve
It was rush hour traffic the day before Christmas Eve.
I could see a few patrol cars parked up ahead. They
had shut down the south bound lanes and were diverting
traffic to another street. I could see yellow police tape
cordoning off the intersection up. The policeman waved
us through. I turned my head and for a second glimpsed
the scene. It appears that a motorcycle and car had collided.
The bike was lying on its side, the car had a large dent on
the driver side door. I didn't see an ambulance at the scene,
perhaps it had already made its pick up. What a way to get
into the Christmas spirit.
I could see a few patrol cars parked up ahead. They
had shut down the south bound lanes and were diverting
traffic to another street. I could see yellow police tape
cordoning off the intersection up. The policeman waved
us through. I turned my head and for a second glimpsed
the scene. It appears that a motorcycle and car had collided.
The bike was lying on its side, the car had a large dent on
the driver side door. I didn't see an ambulance at the scene,
perhaps it had already made its pick up. What a way to get
into the Christmas spirit.
The World's Supply of Truth
Fragments of truth are all we have left.
The ideal has been shattered in the cave
of forms. The sharp angular edges can
easily cut skin and draw blood.
The ideal has been shattered in the cave
of forms. The sharp angular edges can
easily cut skin and draw blood.
As She Wanders The Fields
She wanders the fields in a way that connotes
an otherness and a sense of familiarity.
The wind bends the grasses to its whims
as her hands brush them with her movement.
This distant cradle of reason and civilization
sits silent as its descendants struggle with
the weight of destiny, a fate ordained by the
long count of history.
an otherness and a sense of familiarity.
The wind bends the grasses to its whims
as her hands brush them with her movement.
This distant cradle of reason and civilization
sits silent as its descendants struggle with
the weight of destiny, a fate ordained by the
long count of history.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
An Experiment
Is there immortal truth in our thoughts and actions?
Will the tides sweep us aside like those before us?
The challenge of humanity is to temper our natural
appetites and to conserve that which we have been
given.
You fell down so often and I was always there to
pick you up. Now, we hardly talk at all. This brings
a sense of sadness to me. It is a change, we are
becoming different people. I don't think I can keep
pretending anymore.
What voice do you hear when you read this?
I've conceded, there is only conceit in this.
The body must rest when the mind can no longer
bear to be awake.
Can we construct a narrative from individual lines
and passages? Can we find meaning in disorder?
Is this what I'm talking about?
Will the tides sweep us aside like those before us?
The challenge of humanity is to temper our natural
appetites and to conserve that which we have been
given.
You fell down so often and I was always there to
pick you up. Now, we hardly talk at all. This brings
a sense of sadness to me. It is a change, we are
becoming different people. I don't think I can keep
pretending anymore.
What voice do you hear when you read this?
I've conceded, there is only conceit in this.
The body must rest when the mind can no longer
bear to be awake.
Can we construct a narrative from individual lines
and passages? Can we find meaning in disorder?
Is this what I'm talking about?
The Creation of Order
Our minds deem it necessary to establish order
over the constant stream of chaos we see in the
world. Without imposing some form of order
we would wander aimlessly, creatures helpless
at the mercy of shifting sands beneath our feet.
over the constant stream of chaos we see in the
world. Without imposing some form of order
we would wander aimlessly, creatures helpless
at the mercy of shifting sands beneath our feet.
The Mathematics of Life
It is easy to see our lives as the aggregate result
of a game of numbers.
- How man days have passed since our birth?
- How many sunrises have we witnessed
versus sunsets?
- The number of times we have been in love.
- The number of times we've had our hearts broken.
- The number of times when we have done the breaking.
- How many times have we lied to curry favor.
- How many hours have we spent alone in contemplation.
- How many days remain from the day of this writing.
- How much money we need to not have to struggle.
- How many miles have we driven in our cars.
- How many hours have we spent waiting.
- How much debt we carry.
- The number of marriage ceremonies we have attended.
- How many friends have told us about their impending divorce.
- How many days were you truly happy?
What matters?
Only a few things.
When do we discover this knowledge?
What are you thinking of right now?
of a game of numbers.
- How man days have passed since our birth?
- How many sunrises have we witnessed
versus sunsets?
- The number of times we have been in love.
- The number of times we've had our hearts broken.
- The number of times when we have done the breaking.
- How many times have we lied to curry favor.
- How many hours have we spent alone in contemplation.
- How many days remain from the day of this writing.
- How much money we need to not have to struggle.
- How many miles have we driven in our cars.
- How many hours have we spent waiting.
- How much debt we carry.
- The number of marriage ceremonies we have attended.
- How many friends have told us about their impending divorce.
- How many days were you truly happy?
What matters?
Only a few things.
When do we discover this knowledge?
What are you thinking of right now?
On Brevity
It is not important to draw thoughts out
any longer than they need to be.
Finding the right words in the
briefest order can be the simplest
and most complex of tasks.
any longer than they need to be.
Finding the right words in the
briefest order can be the simplest
and most complex of tasks.
Ms. Cole
Did my face betray my joy at seeing you once more?
A happy reunion after distance and the passing
of our youth. Oh friend, how I've longed
to see you once more. Thank You
for the reminder of your kind
heart and beauty in all
it's facets.
A happy reunion after distance and the passing
of our youth. Oh friend, how I've longed
to see you once more. Thank You
for the reminder of your kind
heart and beauty in all
it's facets.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The Search For Truth
You asked me,
"Is there divine truth?"
I had to think about it for a moment.
"I'm not sure" I said.
You smiled at me and said
"That's the most honest answer I've heard."
There is so much we do not know,
cannot know. Someday,
someday we will.
"Is there divine truth?"
I had to think about it for a moment.
"I'm not sure" I said.
You smiled at me and said
"That's the most honest answer I've heard."
There is so much we do not know,
cannot know. Someday,
someday we will.
Life's Lessons
Foolish joy
Gives way to
Hardened reality.
Hardened reality
Hands us the pill
Of experience.
What we do
With that pill
Is solely in
Our hands.
Gives way to
Hardened reality.
Hardened reality
Hands us the pill
Of experience.
What we do
With that pill
Is solely in
Our hands.
echo chamber
My voice echoes in an empty room.
I listen back to myself
and the silence that
follows.
I listen back to myself
and the silence that
follows.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
start/end points
Wondering about these wanderings,
we always find ourselves in
the same spaces we've
known.
We change the time, we change
the places and find where
we've been going this
whole time.
we always find ourselves in
the same spaces we've
known.
We change the time, we change
the places and find where
we've been going this
whole time.
Our Perception of History
We've wasted our kindness
on each other.
Memories or ill-thought
recollections, are
we becoming the
revisionists that
history fears?
on each other.
Memories or ill-thought
recollections, are
we becoming the
revisionists that
history fears?
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Friday, December 16, 2011
The Operation of Memory
A deadly silence.
It breaches the surface.
Soft flesh, helpless to react.
No struggle.
Crimson colors the
foam of the tide.
It breaches the surface.
Soft flesh, helpless to react.
No struggle.
Crimson colors the
foam of the tide.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
abierto
Open the blinds and let the sun shine
in, lighting the particles of dust
floating in our.
Open the door and let the sounds
of the neighborhood stream
in the house.
in, lighting the particles of dust
floating in our.
Open the door and let the sounds
of the neighborhood stream
in the house.
When Lungs Breathe Deep
What borders are there within out thoughts?
What fears restrain us in our dreams?
When lungs breathe deep
it is a reminder of life
and the freedom
that is our
birthright.
What fears restrain us in our dreams?
When lungs breathe deep
it is a reminder of life
and the freedom
that is our
birthright.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Fading Yellow
Light enters through the lens
and captures the image on
the film stock.
The form is captured in the
way it existed in that moment
and will not be so again.
That moment lives on in the
relic of memory, a fading
yellow picture in hand.
and captures the image on
the film stock.
The form is captured in the
way it existed in that moment
and will not be so again.
That moment lives on in the
relic of memory, a fading
yellow picture in hand.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
All Good Junkies
She shoots up heroin at home.
I know because I saw the spoon
sitting on her coffee table
staring back at me like a
witness on trial in front
of a jury. The caked white
in her curve told me
all I needed to know.
We made chit chat
about this and that
and all the expected
small talk bullshit
we felt necessary
to defuse awkward
situations. I sat on
her couch as I
petted her pet pug
sitting in my lap.
The spoon kept staring
at me, telling me,
"You know. You know."
"But what can I do spoon?"
I thought to myself.
Nothing. Nothing.
I don't know her
well enough to say
anything to her, to
say anything to her
friends. It's her own
business if she wants
to find her bliss in a
needle. Her life is not
my responsibility.
Don't tell me I should
do something for
someone hellbent
on their own path.
Freewill, we claim it
so often, we might
as well let all good
junkies go to heaven.
I know because I saw the spoon
sitting on her coffee table
staring back at me like a
witness on trial in front
of a jury. The caked white
in her curve told me
all I needed to know.
We made chit chat
about this and that
and all the expected
small talk bullshit
we felt necessary
to defuse awkward
situations. I sat on
her couch as I
petted her pet pug
sitting in my lap.
The spoon kept staring
at me, telling me,
"You know. You know."
"But what can I do spoon?"
I thought to myself.
Nothing. Nothing.
I don't know her
well enough to say
anything to her, to
say anything to her
friends. It's her own
business if she wants
to find her bliss in a
needle. Her life is not
my responsibility.
Don't tell me I should
do something for
someone hellbent
on their own path.
Freewill, we claim it
so often, we might
as well let all good
junkies go to heaven.
Friday, December 9, 2011
focused freewrite
Pick your face up off the ground before
someone takes it stop worrying so much
about punctuation is this a full stop or a
pause in the flow of thought youre smart
enough for me not to have to hold your
hand you can decipher this on your own
i know you can just do it just try it dont
be so fearful its only words only words
just try trust me you trust me dont you
someone takes it stop worrying so much
about punctuation is this a full stop or a
pause in the flow of thought youre smart
enough for me not to have to hold your
hand you can decipher this on your own
i know you can just do it just try it dont
be so fearful its only words only words
just try trust me you trust me dont you
A Voice Beyond Sound
I am not trying to be a hero.
I am not trying to be an imitation of my hero's.
I am searching for a voice that is beyond sound.
At times I feel closer to that aim.
At times I feel farther than before.
I am trying.
I am listening to those words
and what they wish to say.
I am not trying to be an imitation of my hero's.
I am searching for a voice that is beyond sound.
At times I feel closer to that aim.
At times I feel farther than before.
I am trying.
I am listening to those words
and what they wish to say.
Dear Heart,
Have you been waiting for me
this entire time?
I apologize for my neglect.
How I've missed you.
Oh,
How I've missed you.
this entire time?
I apologize for my neglect.
How I've missed you.
Oh,
How I've missed you.
Gamblers
My room is filled with music
of my choosing.
The only other sound
are those of my fingers moving across
keys at the same pace that these words appear.
Outside my window,
Outside my door,
there is a world that we share,
filled with every knowable and
unknowable pain and sorrow.
There are those who wish us harm
and there are those who wish us joy.
It's much easier to sit here and wonder
about it all.
But sooner or later
we all become gamblers.
of my choosing.
The only other sound
are those of my fingers moving across
keys at the same pace that these words appear.
Outside my window,
Outside my door,
there is a world that we share,
filled with every knowable and
unknowable pain and sorrow.
There are those who wish us harm
and there are those who wish us joy.
It's much easier to sit here and wonder
about it all.
But sooner or later
we all become gamblers.
Progress
We have stripped away
classical form.
We have stripped away
meter
and aesthetically pleasing
stanzas.
Instead,
we fill pages with
words that tumble out
like the ones from our tongue.
Is this progress?
Tell me,
can you understand
what I am saying to you?
classical form.
We have stripped away
meter
and aesthetically pleasing
stanzas.
Instead,
we fill pages with
words that tumble out
like the ones from our tongue.
Is this progress?
Tell me,
can you understand
what I am saying to you?
Tenacity
It is impossible for any one person to save the world.
In some instances, it is impossible for one to even save themselves.
We still try,
Generation after Generation.
Perhaps we don't need saving.
Perhaps we will continue on
in much the same way
we always have.
In some instances, it is impossible for one to even save themselves.
We still try,
Generation after Generation.
Perhaps we don't need saving.
Perhaps we will continue on
in much the same way
we always have.
Always & Never
Never look back.
Never give in to sentimental leanings.
Never believe the falsehood of rose colored lenses.
Always believe in now.
Always act with objective reason.
Always be true to your nature.
Never give in to sentimental leanings.
Never believe the falsehood of rose colored lenses.
Always believe in now.
Always act with objective reason.
Always be true to your nature.
Heaven or Earth?
There are no
Holy
places or names,
There are only places filled
Wholly
by the aspirations of man.
Holy
places or names,
There are only places filled
Wholly
by the aspirations of man.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Searching For Light
life is complicated,
there are never
any easy answers.
sometimes,
or rather,
oftentimes,
we languish in the dark.
Reaching For The Bottom
Reach for the bottom,
stretch out your hand
and feel for the ground
before your realize
it's too late,
your head cracks
against the ground.
stretch out your hand
and feel for the ground
before your realize
it's too late,
your head cracks
against the ground.
BE FREE
Destroy your idols
and bury them
deep in the ground,
forget they
ever walked
the earth.
Only in this way
will you ever
be free.
and bury them
deep in the ground,
forget they
ever walked
the earth.
Only in this way
will you ever
be free.
A Continual Process
My lips feel the smoothness of the glass
as its liquid reward pours down my throat.
The nerves begin to loosen a little,
the fingers and the thoughts running
towards them, grow looser and faster,
as if they were sprinting towards an
unseen finish line. There is no prize
or ranking to be won at the end of
this particular race. The only thing
that remains is knowledge learned
from a life lived as a new one readies
itself to be freed from the womb.
as its liquid reward pours down my throat.
The nerves begin to loosen a little,
the fingers and the thoughts running
towards them, grow looser and faster,
as if they were sprinting towards an
unseen finish line. There is no prize
or ranking to be won at the end of
this particular race. The only thing
that remains is knowledge learned
from a life lived as a new one readies
itself to be freed from the womb.
A Certain Sadness
There is a certain kind of sadness
when one has outgrown a friendship
or rather
it has run its course.
when one has outgrown a friendship
or rather
it has run its course.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Two Different Types of Pain
I.
hide your eyes beneathe their lidswhen memory rears its face again
and the burden of light is too much
bear.
II.
there is nothing particularly
wonderful about pain except
for its ability to remind us
that we are in fact alive and
living.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Two Comments on Memory
I.
clouds gather quick
as particles move
charges build
II.
breath slowly / deliberately
close eyelids / open them / once more
the old film of memory plays back across the screen
the gradient is obvious
but the story is the same.
clouds gather quick
as particles move
charges build
II.
breath slowly / deliberately
close eyelids / open them / once more
the old film of memory plays back across the screen
the gradient is obvious
but the story is the same.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
The Ugly Face
$$$ is always in short supply.
It's the only thing you always hear people talking about.
They wonder how they're going to make their rent this month.
They wonder if they're going to make it to the end of the week.
They wonder if they have enough to buy groceries.
They wonder if there is enough to get gas to make it to work.
They wonder if they're going to have to borrow money.
They wonder if they'll get that raise at work.
They wonder if they'll find a better paying job.
They hope they don't get sick because they don't have insurance.
They wonder if they are going to work until the day they die.
They wonder if their children will have to struggle as well.
They wonder how they're going to make rent the next few months.
They wonder if the job that laid them off will call them back.
They wonder if they'll have to sell the house.
They wonder if they'll have to declare bankruptcy.
They wonder how much longer they can do this.
It's the only thing you always hear people talking about.
They wonder how they're going to make their rent this month.
They wonder if they're going to make it to the end of the week.
They wonder if they have enough to buy groceries.
They wonder if there is enough to get gas to make it to work.
They wonder if they're going to have to borrow money.
They wonder if they'll get that raise at work.
They wonder if they'll find a better paying job.
They hope they don't get sick because they don't have insurance.
They wonder if they are going to work until the day they die.
They wonder if their children will have to struggle as well.
They wonder how they're going to make rent the next few months.
They wonder if the job that laid them off will call them back.
They wonder if they'll have to sell the house.
They wonder if they'll have to declare bankruptcy.
They wonder how much longer they can do this.
Hard Times
the embrace of modern concerns
squeezes me tight. i let go of her
waist, she squeezes harder. I can
hear her breathing heavier, my
back cracks as my ribs ready to
give way.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Friday, December 2, 2011
For the Little Girls
All the little girls think they know me well.
All the little girls don't know me at all.
All the little girls don't know me at all.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
