Developing Words

Two Believe (draft/unfinished)

2010-10-14T21:23:00.000+01:00

Can you believe it?

Always, you know that. Consternation isn't nearly as effective as acceptance.

One day it'll blind you, and I'll be here.

Oh, I wish you wouldn't. Can't we get along for once?

Then refrain from baiting me. You know I can't help it. I'm not the cat, I can learn.

Can you? On what is this assertion based?

Well, it's based on my conviction. Do I need anything else?

You might not, but I certainly do. Isn't that important to you?

Of course! But I've got to come first. Who will benefit if I don't? I won't, and how will you know different anyway?

Your words may not be clear, but your conviction is. I'm sorry for pushing you. I should know by now that the cause is floundering, if not entirely lost.

Thank you, really. Is that the first apology you've given me? I can't recall a time...

Oh no! I am always and forever apologising. My tongue wags from the continual strain. But I do not blame you; someone has to wear my shoes. I'm happy to take the pain.

Again with your shoes, why don't you see someone about them? It might keep your tongue in your head long enough for you to speak sense the next time it comes out. I never understand you.

Who would I see? Who could I see? Impossible. My shoes and my tongue are perfect. You'd have me gag! No conception of reality, that's your problem. That's why I can't get through to you.

The cheek! The drama! Who am I to you? Not your equal. How could I be? I'd have to believe it to be your equal. Ah, it's not fair.

We are different. That's why we work. Please don't make this personal. Can you imagine how boring - how utterly depressing - it would be if we were the same?

I suppose you're right - I didn't learn - you always are. Does that make me a liar or a fool? I just wish...

Finish your sentences, man! Good God…

... and the Students Dance

2010-08-11T19:49:00.008+01:00

The librarian has absolute licence to kill.
"Jump up and shoot me at any time!" exclaimed the shaky lecturer with the nervous walk. Shakespeare did not write about himself, at least during his lifetime.
Perhaps he died from sheer pressure, the weight of literature - present and future - on his soul. An academic, this waverer is; yet he speaks as if one struck dumb.
We listen, though. We do. A tide of whispers may rise and fall in regular turns; but we are respectful, it is the least that we can be.
Remember who we are.

Ever Nothing

2010-07-29T23:38:00.004+01:00

I am alive! Now that I know I feel so free. Yes, yes, "the nature of freedom" and all that... but let's not spoil things just yet. Allow me my moment of joy, won't you?

I realise that I am perhaps speaking to no one, but no one is sometimes the best one to speak to, no? You can never respond, thus you can never inform me (honestly or not, thankfully) that I am wrong, or severely misled. Hallelujah.

Would you betray me? Ah, but you cannot betray me; the best friend one can have! Though... you cannot feel for me; my joy is sinking in. Quiet jubilation, my cross was very thin.

I should return to my freedom, or rather my sense of freedom - for nothing is really free - but that is precisely my point, don't you see? You must see. That I feel free is far more relevant to me, and you, than any argument that I am not free. Who is to say? What evidence is there? What evidence can there be? Can evidence be? Perception is king. Here it is, I am it. I do it, and I cannot stop. Perception is.

If I stop perceiving when I die does that make it any less real? What if I die? What is real when reality is irrelevant? Who are you? No one. Just the same as me.

Nothing, Lost and Never New

2010-04-16T16:16:00.002+01:00

In the morning light I saw
The prints of your feet
And fear was with me then
I dreamed that you'd
Been carried away
By madness or bad men

As the day grew longer
My fear did too
I couldn't see
What was in front of me
Only what was
Far and long gone

Grasping at straws
In hallways and dark doors
Nothing did slowly return

It said to me
"You, be free
Desperate and young
And, son,
I'll always be waiting"

What is or can Will be?

2010-03-13T13:21:00.001Z

But it still leaves the
question, as it remains;
what is this paralysis
- this waking death -
that cripples me,
and only does not when
I turn to confront it?
Doth it play with me, am I a
pawn to its orchestrator?
Laughter do I hear behind
the curtain, while flailing
I burrow further into
this terrible illusion.
So it is. If my actions are moot,
my mind can be free, hopefully.
Dreaming this ignorant bliss.
What of the mind as it seems?
What is the mind? Is the mind?
Trapped in ignorant bliss.

The Brighter Star

2010-03-06T12:00:00.000Z

I'll look for you
to keep me true
to follow through
I'll look for you

you they took
when you they found
but for you I still seek
over hill or under ground
in sundered valley or creek

I'll look for us
to grant us peace
what shame we must
for us

look for me
by the sea
when I'm free
look for me

please

Freedom

2010-02-10T23:37:00.004Z

But what could I do? Helplessness is far too often overlooked. I revel in it.

For the most part, being helpless is the best situation to find oneself in. It frees the faculties. Acceptance is what really requires tweaking, it can be a hard (thing) to swallow. Just look around. You know we're a minority, and they know it too.

Self-Sermon

2010-01-06T16:08:00.000Z

Again I find myself
Again I wonder
Lost against a
patchwork of dreams.

Yet admiration proves its resilience
For despair can only last so long.
Perhaps a lifetime is enough.

Feel it, live it
With arms outstretched
And all to lose
that is, nothing.

But it is the best kind of nothing
It knows itself
Like I know you.
Now I touch and I feel
and it does return to me.

To be cold is to be alive
Do not forget it.
Forgive the dead language,
The necessary vessel of this message
Were I able, I would forsake it.

But I will continue to write,
I can make no apologies.
It is what I desire,
and life will find an end for that.

At least deserves to live

2010-01-06T15:59:00.000Z

Once we recognise that
what we do is meaningless
we can indulge in our passions.

Will you know yourself?
Is he another man?
Whom does time service;
for where do we have to go?

Can you still feel?
Do you look to the future?
Is memory worth more than life?

I used to know things - he used to know things
where are they? What became of me or him?

It and they appear to me as
the threads of an old life;
it should not be mine.

What do I feel?
What is this question?
Utter mortality;
a cheek to the end.
To wrap it in language
is to cushion the fear;
for it comes in waves.

It used to be an abstract presence.

The less I say the more ambiguous I can be.
On a road of self-destruction.

Suicide could be so poetic.

Once More...

2009-12-02T01:43:00.001Z

Let me live
You are not me
I think.

or

Please, allow me to live.
I do not know you, you are not me.
This is because I think, and I think that you do not.

What do I know?

... With Meaning

2009-12-02T01:40:00.000Z

Period
Trying
Method
Control
Partial stop
Full stop
Punctuation
Punctuate
Punct
Punct...
Punct...uation
Meaningful symbols
To aid the reader

Two pieces of prose

2009-11-19T17:38:00.001Z

Static:
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Xelanath/444561/

Prelude to a Conversation:
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Xelanath/478629/

A Mirror, Despite Itself

2009-11-02T16:12:00.003Z

I see them and I want to be them. If but for a second.
I buy into their projected identities. Am I lost?
I wish to be a cypher. An amorphous shapeless
ever-changing Everyman, or noman.
To be everyone and everything.
Give me time.
We will always struggle against the tide.

My Self and Not I

2009-10-28T21:01:00.001Z

I walk, and a memory emerges,
Sudden and uninvited.
Overwhelming, it controls me.

I bite my tongue, I curse it.
Precious tears touch my cheeks,
What pain; it fills inside me.

Bursting into external action.
What hope, what life,
do I see before me?

Barely I resist, but now I'm only failing.
I see it; time. Ticking ever closer.
Desperately I exist, but now I'm only fading.

Appointment Kept

2009-10-15T11:43:00.001+01:00

Must try harder
Again the bell tolls
Given what we know
Lucky tender souls

Hiding from trust
Free for want of this
Slow to gain the same
Easier to miss

Time for open hat
Ask what are we here
Grasp the empty knot
Only for our fear

That it came whole
Glad for longer day
See not in the sun
But further away

Be Me

2009-10-06T23:43:00.000+01:00

Would you define my nature
Would you erase my choice, for me?
Would you like to control me as
You believe yourself free?
I cannot maintain the struggle
Dead or without will; I need to be.
Or not to be.

We

2009-10-06T23:39:00.001+01:00

Life. Absurd.
Desire. Disorder.
No judgement.
No justice.
Is.
My needs will never be met.
Temporary at best, hunger never sated.
I learn. I conflict with external forces.
I think. Considerate. Selfish. For no one.
Sparsity.
I hope. And I continue to.
I finally recognise the futility
Of existence.
I must consider suicide.
No more.

How

2009-09-29T22:51:00.000+01:00

Ideological society.
Lack of identity, humanity.
Tyranny. It is art.
Turning on self, no one is exempt.
Melancholy, grey, silent. Oppression.
Good. Progress toward nothing and nowhere.
Learning the meaningless. Unable to speak.
Truth is irrelevant.
Logic is circular. The.

One Divided by Infinity

2009-09-28T15:55:00.003+01:00

We craft our material identity continually to more easily be digested by others. Present ourselves in sound bites and snippets. We are not ourselves. We are who they think we are, who we appear to be. Ever-changing, ever-constant? Even the self we project is governed by society, by our perception of a societal truth. What remains? Nothing. Nothing identifiable.

Flawed, Pro Bono

2009-09-26T17:18:00.002+01:00

I have long been a fraud
Too tired to follow my own advice:
We believe in love, we think
but the feeling is not so easy to find.

We assume it will be
Just like that
You'll know, I'll know
As a matter of fact.

But it's only opinion
Right from the start
Subject to manipulation
You're left from the heart.

Repeat it again
What does it mean?
Is it a person or people
Or something unseen?

Are you grasping for an alibi
Someone you once knew;
A couple who are happy
They are the lonely few.

Don't waste your time chasing
An abstract idea
By waiting for an abstract person,
Who will never appear.

Live and be passionate
Enjoy what you feel
Embrace your desire
Remember what's real.

Actions and unforeseen consequences can sometimes be both astounding and intensely insignificant.

2009-09-18T16:08:00.002+01:00

Define: I

2009-09-13T16:25:00.001+01:00

You can try to be objective
but you never will.
Subjective by default.
You are an individual,
no matter how much you wish
otherwise.
Your eyes, your dreams,
your doubts, your life,
your death.

The Struggle

2009-08-19T23:41:00.000+01:00

What have I done
What can I do
Where am I going
What can I prove?

Are you proud of me
Do you know who I am?

If you speak of me
What do you think I'd say?
When I'm gone
What will you dream in my place?

Why does my mind matter
If no one will ever guess?

I should concede while I am still just
Even these words fail to grasp the point
That my fingers are faithful I can only trust
What could be closer than this?

Healing Blues

2009-08-19T23:07:00.003+01:00

Can you tell me why
I have suddenly lost
What was confidence
In my voice?

Is the answer simple,
Was it a myth to begin?
Was I blind,
Was I drinking straight gin?

I don't believe it's true
Which means for all of you
Nothing and nothing again
The one tale I cannot prove.

Just keep the rhythm going
Perhaps I will wake up
Only to question where I'm going
And spit in a paper cup.

Back and forth I wander
Wearing down my brain
I'll need new shoes by morning
Or I'll have to catch the train.

I doubt it is sincere
This crippling crutch of mine
A depth it lacks
And heart it attacks
Yet still it won't learn to rhyme.

Passion

2009-08-19T22:31:00.001+01:00

You are the
one who
drains from me
what I need
to live.

Exhaust me, wait
you will be
rewarded soon.

Contend for hope
against your wishes
against all chance
to cope.

My means,
my dreams
what I cannot
show.

Forgive the dead
for they do
not know
what you need
to live.

To Achieve Momentum in the Manner of an Object Without Propulsion

2009-08-18T21:16:00.001+01:00

The gift is what keeps us moving
I once knew what that meant.
Now, in my single room, I adjust
When I think that it suits me.
The future has lost its appeal.

A journey. Soft and close but not.
Only the road could understand.
Only a metaphor.

My eyes turn outward
It is hard to turn in
We listen so readily
We forget our own skin.

Count it on Your Fingers

2009-08-09T22:05:00.000+01:00

I'm going to walk into my life
One day it'll all make sense
A dream faraway
Will carry me for a trade
And then leave,
So I can wake up.

Such selfless action
A thankless task
Giving it all for
What we daren't ask.

It remains to be seen
And it'll stay that way
If it can be
who it should be.

I'll then join in the fun
That comes from running long
And then stopping,
Breathing the air.

Each gasp then serves
To remind me of what
I have; and what
I can then surely be,
not and miss.

Escape, and laughter
The energy to live
A dream bent on
Succeeding at any
Or almost all cost.

The Only Point on the Horizon

2009-07-30T12:24:00.003+01:00

I was thankful that I was alive, so I dived.
I reasoned... "this is life, this is being. Have I taken life or was it given to me? Never-the-less I am it now, I am one, alive and - dare I say it? - I exist."
Yet this in itself does not mean that I am obligated. Not least because I know only myself, and I choose not to be obligated to myself. I agree.
Then why would I dive, why would I step toward the unknown? Should I be afraid? What is there to fear? I am alive.
The answer is simple: desire.
You may tell me that it is selfish, but who are you? You are a voice of my own creation. Me. What is it to be selfish? There is only I. The rest is extension.
Desire.
It beats like a heart does beat. I feel it now as it overwhelms me; again I feel it when it doesn't. Does this imply control? Perhaps. But by whom? Me... my desire? Must desire be absolute? Remember the beat. It graciously ebbs and flows like the sea but I am not the moon.
Not blind when I dive, I lie in the truth that I see.
Content to be alive and to witness eternity.
I am aware of my contradiction.

The Inevitable Life and Death of Writing

2009-07-26T00:00:00.003+01:00

'"Care had been taken to spread the most sinister rumours..."
I had thought out this sentence, at first it had been a small part of myself. Now it was inscribed on the paper, it took sides against me. I didn't recognize it anymore. I couldn't conceive it again. It was there, in front of me; in vain for me to trace some sign of its origin. Anyone could have written it. But I... I wasn't sure I wrote it. The letters glistened no longer, they were dry. That had disappeared too; nothing was left but their ephemeral spark.'
Nausea, Jean-Paul Sartre (translated by Lloyd Alexander)

They Know You Well

2009-07-19T14:01:00.003+01:00

Who am I, that I have done something,
been somewhere, met someone,
or that I haven't?
What makes me different or the same?

As I think I see; a space where I am blind.
Who is in my mind?
How can I know the past, when I am living in this moment?
How can I know that I did anything?
For now, what is left?
And what was there to begin with?
It doesn't matter. I can still strive.

If it does, what can I do?
Identify my uncertainty, single it out:
You have caused me pain.
You have inflicted confusion upon me
And all that I know.
Where is my life?
I cannot locate it.
Just as I cannot locate the colours
In a rainbow, or a quilt.
What is this I touch?
Who have I become?

Debt to a Travelling Song

2009-07-19T13:51:00.001+01:00

The chocolate wrapper is unnaturally loud,
I hear every tear and then every bite - through me.
Johnny Cash even fails to drown it.
Imagine his disappointment.
Of all the adventures in life, being unable to modify
One's own volume from beyond the grave
Must be the worst. Of course, I wouldn't know.

Unable to understand where my self is
(I do not know where my limbs are)
Enclosed in a coffin of my own making.
But it is warm like a body.
I feel no fear, tranquillity has earned its place.

The window moves further away,
A lack of focus causes the vehicle to fall apart.
Am I alive to see this, or is this because I am alive?

You tell me 'observational testimony',
But how am I to believe you?
How can they trust what they see?

Yet We Speak of Progress

2009-07-11T16:21:00.001+01:00

To be deep is not to be mature.
Maturity is akin to sublime immaturity.
While to consider deeply is a symptom of the process of maturing, it is a means
and not an end.
To continue to have deep thoughts is thus a sign of immaturity, an inability to
mature.
Acceptance is king. Bigot.

The internal monologue masquerades as a dialogue

2009-06-28T12:03:00.001+01:00

Language in my mind.
For what purpose do I use it? To formulate ideas? I think not. To articulate notions that already exist in my consciousness, to help understand and process them? I think so.
How can I 'speak' of 'I' in my head? What is my head? My mind? Yes. Mind.
Once aware it is ever-present, a feeling perverse and alien. Alien within myself? It feels like the keeping of an internal diary. I am telling ME about the world, about my life, about experience. Do I experience?
Am I two entities? Two streams of consciousness? Or two entities and one stream?
The soul.
Is the soul supposed to be what is dictating or what is listening?

When we have all the answers will we still dream?

2009-06-19T14:25:00.001+01:00

One of the main reasons for philosophy is one that is shared by religion: we do not have all the answers, yet.

Without answers we can ponder, question, consider, hope, fear.

Should we fear scientific progress? Is there a reason for holding on to a romantic idea of life? Why should we cherish our abstract imprint?
That is; ignorance.

Again, connotations of words confuse matters.
Ignorance <-----> Knowledge
Negative <-----> Positive
?
Why?

Clinging on to fascination.
Is natural human inquisitiveness at odds with itself? We need to know and we need to question. As we know more we have less to question. Or do we?
Will there always be questions?

Desire, Blind Choice

2009-06-17T12:37:00.001+01:00

If we are ruled by desire then are we not surely ruled by a pursuit of what we want?
And if it is what we want then how can it be bad? To be a slave to desire is only bad when an aversion to slavery is introduced.
It is a misuse of terms.

In this way, if we exercise choice just so that we can call ourselves human, but that choice is against our desire, are we not merely punishing ourselves?
What is our abstract idea of humanity worth?

Why Are You Afraid?

2009-06-14T17:07:00.001+01:00

To overcome death
We must first accept
That life as we know it
Isn't what's left.

Visitations by infinite forces
Lead us to be deluded
So
Dreams may tell us
And we think we deserve
But we're caught up
In wishful valour
And hopeless verve.

The result is ever closer
Than we first thought and think
We address them in their masses
And prepare to slowly sink.

We wave goodbye
At the harbours of our brain
So sad to see them leave
We now have all the time
Left in the world
To contemplate and grieve.

Suddenly, An Eternally Fleeting Truth

2009-06-02T22:07:00.003+01:00

What if... ebbs away?
What of..? It diminishes.
Or of..? It will deteriorate, undoubtedly.
They are already not what they were. If the whole declines, how can I justify myself?
Is not a realisation of mediocrity the best route? There is only pride at stake. It involves no one else.

What do I value?
What do others value in me?
Does this answer my question, or is it all still subjectivity?
Useless and unnecessary?
Why should I have confidence in myself?
Do I need it?
Am I thinking outside of myself?
What of my needs?
Does a person need to be delusional?
Am I speaking of life, or of existence?
The personal I or the societal we?
Does anything matter?

Welcome the Relief

2009-06-01T19:38:00.005+01:00

It is written in the stars
meetings and meetings in bars
we'll laugh and play the game
though it's always the same

The air is tight
nobody has the right
to tell us anymore
what it is we're doing
we're only young and poor

We prefer when it flows
forget the feelings in our hands and our toes
what we know is not desire
forget the passion, the morning fire

If only our memories
did not serve us well
bodies abused, existing
only for what we sell

We force ourselves to comply
fear of the lonely I
two is safer for life
you; my husband, my wife

Ever Hopeful

2009-06-01T19:38:00.004+01:00

What is the point in holding
On to a negative youth?
When existence turns it back
The fragrance exposes truth.

The world, an entity
Given life; it did not take
We modify the boundaries
We know; it is not fake.

We exaggerate, but are real
Always with a dare to feel
Evil, moronic, sarcastic flight
Always with a task to write.

Creation in an Enclosure

2009-05-28T14:32:00.000+01:00

Look at them.
Return to the page.
Ignore the others.
Smile.

Do they think you're mentally unstable (worryingly psychotic)? They shouldn't. They suffer for their art. Why are they respected if others are feared, shunned? Personal bitterness? No. Bitterness has no place here. Gazing provides happiness. It will suffice.

Look around.
Dart the eyes.
Wonder.
Stop.
Smile again.

Like Any Other

2009-05-26T10:46:00.004+01:00

"I'm just about ready to turn this into a movie"

As he dances he spouts theatrics
A jab follows verse
Tongues lash like arms.

You owe it to me.

Should we...

She is a presence, and will be felt
While we pack the past away.

"I had to go see about a girl"

She's still so self-involved.
What changes?

Memory fades of what I used to be
I'll grow old.
Who were we pretending to see?

Listen. Learn. Dance. Forget.

2009-05-23T23:13:00.002+01:00

Oh so dizzy, dizzy
Until it goes away.
Again we find
That what we thought
Was further from dismay.

This is no time to be self-less
Choose your order, point.
Come between it and they
Feel the lingering joint.

Behave in a way that nobody
Expects nor ever fears
Grant a wish so that only
It is he who really hears.

Yesterday or never
Pretend that we first met
Don't tell me, don't tell me
It hasn't happened yet.

My hope is quietly drowning
The pool a joker made
Beneath feet of silver shadow
And light of ghostly shade.

Loathing Toward the Delta

2009-05-02T16:15:00.001+01:00

You came to my senses
Bewildering and stylish.
The perfect example of
Gendered flattery.

Stop it, come on.
Your suspicion is
Sadly misplaced.

Hold back the crying
A neck that's too good
For jewels.
Exceptions are made
in our dying
The destruction of
Guilty fools.

Hear them sing.

The Contradiction of Infinite Patience

2009-04-27T20:28:00.003+01:00

An inanimate object somewhat dampens my spirit
Though it comforts me to know
That it's just a blip in the road
Friends like them will be long forgotten with the years.

Half-way to understanding,
A picture, confused
But damaged and distorted by time
The last barrier now falls.

The silence becomes you

Addressed to another
But suited all the same
Hear this muted vengeance
That breaches no name.

We whisper openly

musing

2009-03-30T21:35:00.001+01:00

How do we know that life and death are real? We say "what of the animals and of everything else in the universe?" But we only perceive them. We privilege ourselves because we must always be selfish, we exist as selfishness.

An Inner Monologue's Outward Manifestation; or, How I Came to Be

2009-03-30T21:33:00.001+01:00

Too close to know what is.
Further, the process becomes discernible
But inevitably irrelevant.
The option is not happy
We never tried to pretend.

Let my own lack of a voice be heard.

We don't. The reality is far tamer.
Through necessity or apathy?
Maybe I only exist in your head,
As real as anything else.
Positive.

We privilege by our own position.

Belief in the self.
I cannot affirm you.
Only conviction of I.

Empty with such fullness.

Dreams are like seasickness
They are real as long as they last.
And things are just starting.

To say yes to one instant is to say yes to all existence.

No self, but that which we wish.
Outside forces are felt, sporadically.
Fleeting in acceptance.
Once or again to be.

Why is it not a story of progress,
But of exception?

The first step is acceptance of ignorance.

Pause and Correct

2009-03-17T10:43:00.003Z

Oh, Whom
You do suffer
Passed, your share
Is also more than fair.

Can we hope to change
The ways of men and
The ways that have
Come unto them?

The past is there
But will it be
For after all
Humanity?

The designs we pry
May get us by
But we are blind to
Whom we hurt.

A cry, a cry!
What's that,
A lie?
Return us to the dirt.

A solution can be
If a problem is
And a process
Gains momentum.

But this just can't
Confine itself
To singular aim
Or dictum.

So be prepared for
Always causing
More than you
Had planned.

But in the end
We'll ever be
Right here
To lend a hand.

Learning

2009-03-13T14:40:00.000Z

Am I searching?
I stop and find no connection
What am I doing here?
A feigned grasp at happiness,
And love.

I don't remember agreeing to this.
Were there classes?

If they will always worry -
They don't understand me,
They're not enough -
Then why must I bother?

Who am I addressing?
Am I listening?

We believe in pressure,
Or the result.
The chasm will only widen as time goes on.
Unless I reach for it
And my grasp then becomes honesty.

Hope must never meet doubt
Dancing for life
The mirrors in a hall,
Turn. Shield.

Imperative to understanding
Or what we take it to be.

Jack

2009-03-11T17:04:00.001Z

Sometimes I am the only person who will understand.
So I just talk to myself.
I am my raging incomprehension.
I am my melting spoon.
I am my rotting ego.
I am my reaction to inaction.
No one asked, so I told them again and again.

Pursued by Ignorance

2009-02-13T15:18:00.001Z

What do we need?
What do I?
How much of what I perceive to be need is false?
Cushions for my ego, for my ideals of well-being.
Societal Pressures.
Why do I need friends?
Can I not only have them when it is true?
Do we not all rely on others?

In-Ex

2009-02-13T14:54:00.001Z

Why do we see icons where none lies?
What becomes of our empty eyes?
Let us not see, to ease our suffering.
The sound of the spectacle - it invades our cries.
Oh, too serious. Why do you persist with mirrors?
They only shape your crimes. First and last, we give all.
More than; we can die.
You will think that this is fabulous.
Look at what I can try.
A looser grasp on morals. Not at fault, I do.

Draft for Desire

2009-02-13T14:51:00.000Z

Awake and four years older.
The picture never changes, only the focus tries.
When alone, sound is again pervading.
Wading through memories, so deep
The bottom I cannot perceive.
Or would not, if so able.
Trapped by the knowledge;
What we become haunts us
And what we were is true.
An endless melody,
The means justified by the intention.
Remain composed
Listen and breathe in.

Camus

2009-02-09T14:09:00.001Z

An honest truth cannot betray me
And the pavements make us sing.
So how do we dance
When it's not about fiction
But what it leaves in?

A Meandering Stream Finds Instinct to Be Stronger

2009-02-03T19:02:00.002Z

Needs dictate; must focus.
The colour in a green field
Gates, but the cows cannot jump them
Now guns, booming and screaming
The birds become disturbance.
Return these views to freshness:
A Sunday among others
Nestled and warm
To be abused
Routinely.
Forgiveness counts not
In this reckoning
But the phallic debate
Continues to rage.

Dire Patience

2009-02-02T00:07:00.002Z

We gave it a second
We waited.

Obviously we were impatient
But we had our reasons
Justification beyond it
And us, we didn't know
What it meant.
Good, clean hollows
Gaining in measure
Between eternity and
Nothing else.

It cannot now
Or ever matter
Despite good will
And prevailing winds
Always a step ahead
It remained
And we behind.

Everyone & I

2009-01-26T20:34:00.001Z

Of course he's a writer!
How could it have been any other way?
His air reeks of pomp and insecurity
With hands untouched by kindness or labour.
Blindly staring, struggling with his muse
Why doesn't he give in to the plain blue sky?

When it's blue and clear; the clouds threaten more than just rain.
We pass so much beauty, instantaneous and for us never again
But for others, yes. There must always be more.
For what is life without appreciation?
How does it count?
I don't think that they will remember
Your endless yarn, when time matters.

But my opinion is certainly as invalid
Or do I elevate myself above and beyond?
The fate of many; disillusionment and pride.
Despair, only later.

Who will be remembered?
What will come to pass?
Where is the worth in trying
If nothing will ever last?

A Voice of Reason

2009-01-22T15:06:00.002Z

As high-handed as we know
As mighty as we read
We are and will be
Of the human creed.
Ongoing and ever-true
God-like in focus
Perhaps that is what
It truly means to be.

Submit, you unworthy soldier
Be mine, and be still.

But to express
Is to grant perfection
To anything that
We don't know.

Possession

2009-01-16T00:44:00.002Z

A time will come when frustration
Marries itself to best intentions
Whose and when we see this
Another day may tell
For answers are never easy.
You mistake my eyes for glasses
And my tremble-hands for holes.
I am not your Harry, Selma
I am not your silver shoe.
Forget we were ever parted
Miss me like you do
And when the dream-like distance
Catches you half-asleep
Grasp your straws for sickness
So health knows you're weak.

From Whom Are You Running?

2008-12-15T21:43:00.004Z

We have written away our souls
And express surprise when they know us whole.
So we deserve to experience fear.
We would not wish for it to be otherwise
No matter the protest that accompanies it all
Block it out, or don't. Accept our fate, blindly.
Or change it while you can, if you can.
Why won't you take off your rosy glasses?

The Page; the Page

2008-12-15T21:43:00.001Z

Our freedoms lay entwined.
Unknowing yet utterly trusting
A dynamic pact, as strong as any other;
Tighter, still, for it cannot so easily be betrayed.
Each party has no overt motivation to deny the other
Their advantage is mutual and rewarding.
Exciting and always new
The reader and the writer.

Do You Ask Questions?

2008-12-15T21:38:00.000Z

We will always be asking you to do something
I have all of these things in my head
Then, though a mess it may be, it exists.
Don't be narrow, we do not like it
If you run out, please conclude yourself later
Then eat your undesirable words
Or they will return to haunt you.
Repeating what you've heard
Or you should have. Where was it thrown?
Do you still claim ownership? You can still try
A suggestive connection requires gestures
You can decide on the hands.

Infinite Memory

2008-12-08T18:14:00.000Z

How often do you muse
On how things could be
If this or that were different
If you or I weren't me?

Do you realise the contradictory manner
Of such a musing? That nature does not hold
Ultimate sway? If you were born 150 years ago
You wouldn't be you. There is a possibility
Somewhere; but we cannot attain it, yet.
We can never know any moment except the present -
And never again will we, truly.
If we even knew this one.

Living Memory

2008-12-08T18:13:00.000Z

Again, these ears hear the end
A convenient oblivion masks our fate
In depth, we cannot remember too long ago
It all becomes blurred,
A siren call.
A living disintegration of recollection.
Return now to this disjointed site -
Can you ever understand what happened here?
See your imagined community,
What have they given you?
What have they destroyed?
Tell me about yourself only.

Trapped. Talk, Talk.

2008-11-24T17:18:00.000Z

Many limited interactions
Processing the noises surrounding
An all-too-familiar feeling of isolation.
The sounds mean nothing when I hear.
Shapes manoeuvre around my being,
Almost desperately it appears
The terror of being near this lonely husk
Is in itself
Too much for whispers to handle.
The sum becomes the reverse of the parts,
They chatter and dissolve.
But there is variety, and goodwill at times.
Or so I perceive through a narrow and cracking lens.
One day to purchase an improvement over this.
A goal that may decide the worth of believing
When factors coincide.

Talk, Talk. Trapped.

2008-11-24T17:15:00.000Z

What ideas do I have? None, say I! Why? For the book did I not read! Say it does not ring true. Fie, it doth ring truer than you know. Accept this and weep, but do not despair. The lecture will be saved! These scoundrels - noisy, noisy scoundrels - are more than likely to sprout one promising perception between them. It must be, by the simple laws of probability!

What reading? Ponder for a long time and hope that no one notices. Look up, provide scope for inspiration, then head back down to write more intangible lessons. Hope. Hope. Is she looking? Why sit in the front? This situation begs for relief. Cavalry doesn't show itself so readily in life. The horn lies silent beside the Gordian Knot. On with it. Perhaps more slowly for a time, this notion is a deep one. Full of double meanings and interesting commentary on the multifaceted subtext of that queer book. Quiet. Did I write too much?

Is that satisfactory? We are searching for more. It would be rude to start reading a different book, I suppose. Then, this is equally so, only far more inconspicuous. Until I'm put on the spot. What is she doing? Too close, far too close. Cramp. Must stop.

Vainglory

2008-11-03T22:55:00.000Z

What does it, inevitably, lead toward?
When we turn to attempting we are
Still left uncertain.
An Answer?
It is only when we have finished
That we have.

Come. Join us in our invasions.
The body undefined.
Against years and modes of obstacles
That have existed, with only slow erosion,
And have not.

They can mimic and act.
Based on their lives and what they have seen.
Is not that all we can do?
Are we not inventing the past in tandem
With the past creating the future?
Originality is but ignorance,
The subject and their opinion.
State your case, but do not be afraid.
Rest. Be content.

I Am

2008-10-21T02:08:00.000+01:00

As they say
In all "good" shops
And everywhere else -
You are becoming
Of the world.
Representing changes
That do not concern you.
You are certainly something
More or less anonymous
But completely and
Thoroughly not what
You may have intended
To be.
What does concern you?
Do you need to be told?
It is far too complicated
For such reasoning now.
What, define you?

Sees No Virtue

2008-10-18T10:27:00.000+01:00

A view to a deed
And events that contend
Despite a last wish for sickness to end.

I ever provide Justification with airs;
not for my own welfare, but for theirs.

Recognition of wealth
And of enveloped beauty
Pity for sale
Pity for duty.

A Postmodern School Shooting

2008-10-07T11:21:00.001+01:00

"bears wanted to take over my country so they did and now there is bear on the money instead of old white guys. also im am usually discriminated against as i am neither a bear nor do i speak their laungage.
i would start a civil rights campaign but i am too lazy and stupid. other then the casual racism i think the bears run our country in a positive way."

∞

2008-10-07T10:36:00.001+01:00

Each moment, without beginning or end
Time: our affliction
Like mirrors to our ears
Unable to grasp that which we cannot see.
Forever trapped by our understanding
Of progress
And our inability to proceed.

Linear Advance

2008-09-29T17:57:00.000+01:00

Look forward, not behind. Admire, and improve upon, do not worship. Social changes. Upper class men.
Slavery acknowledges civility, and is one.

Sing democracy's praises, do not let it hear you doubt it.
Do not tell it lies, except to protect the other.
Tell them all that they may hope.
Disguise a change in it and
Focus on defeating your rival.
This is survival of the popular myth.

Nothing Questions

2008-09-29T17:56:00.000+01:00

Where did they come from?
Did they intrude on the present?
Rudely, and corrupt, without a personal sex.
No definite. A concentrated ambiguity,
Only this.
A light drawn from above.
And the colours become nothing
In sudden contact.
Vacuus and derived,
A slow development allows for completeness ,
That washes our excitement and understanding
Away. But what do we know about concrete?

All is Well, All is Permitted

2008-08-22T16:59:00.001+01:00

Try not, do.
A contradictory element
That is vital to the end.

An equation that denies it,
The internal mirror
Balanced on all gains
And none.

Never can the recurring steps
Be repeated, for truth is not.
Only the innocent may witness eternity,
It is but a hollow echo for us all.

The absurd mind accepts not
But hope lives still.
A closed eye sees despair in mortality
And it is then
That happiness is exchanged for faith.

Joy Cannot Be Savoured

2008-07-30T15:15:00.001+01:00

The end. It did. And left, it did.
Though the contained remained behind.
Full speed exists, the pace that happiness arrives.
A silent resistence to all and any light,
The shadow withstands the plague.

When trapped man can aim
To discover what he can.
Though there is always an hour
Of the day or night
When man will prove a coward
And fear that moment, nothing more.

Love.
It is not much to be.
To find its own expression,
A love cannot achieve.
But one cannot prevent
The act of condemnation
In himself or any other
Even victims can sometimes
Be executioners.

There was no surprise in this suffering.
For months, for days, it was but
A continuation of always the same pain.
Dull and enduring, detached from whatever
Wish could be real.

The long exile.
A sudden downpour,
Unrivalled by the old,
Confused and bewildering joy.

A searing emotion.

No More Than a Simple, Obstinate Determination to Live

2008-07-28T18:08:00.000+01:00

Affliction confliction
It's never too late or ever too soon
And each repeats itself
Before the judge
A judgement.
The day will come
And then...

To start again, cannot pretend
The thought that isn't there.
A new relief, but all it can
Create is an
Unbalanced image of existence.
A past self becomes negative
And never does return.
Suffering a general separation
From that which was the daily life
Of us all, and on.

Inquiry as the Rain

2008-07-05T09:51:00.001+01:00

Here, we are no one. But if not here
We cannot truly live.
To live we must not.
The doubtful distinction between survival and being alive.
What does will become?

To each his own task.
Were these words ever uttered?
A dream within imagination
Only given - life? through a singular vision.

The world cannot be perceived and lived
And though I am not certain that I exist,
I know that one day I will.
Nothing is lost.

Testimony Held to a Narrow Strip

2008-06-19T14:59:00.000+01:00

Positive
Antithesis of negative
Like the film
Only shorter.
A brilliant display of life as we may never know it.
Though true, always, to the original perspective.

A Veil, Conceived

2008-06-14T00:29:00.001+01:00

When you do not know whether pity or envy is your true course
A desire for knowledge, through Fear the accursed.
Then pity is but envy, veiled
This pity, if so, is already lost.

Foma

2008-06-11T21:16:00.000+01:00

Anything I can tell you is a lie
I exist
Fortune fears
Disrupts the roots
Contains the tears
Ignites our breath -
A thousand years
For
Everything I ever tell you will be a lie

The Dangers and Potholes of a Capitalist Economy

2008-05-19T00:57:00.000+01:00

"I get paid in monkey.
Then I sell the monkeys to small children for ridiculous prices. Then rape the children
before they leave."

The Illegal Impression

2008-05-18T19:57:00.000+01:00

The forbidden cult of the underground poets.
A true escape haunts both of these eyes
For never can the world know now
Of what did pass, in time untold
The practice was strange, a selfish act
To keep one's mind on the plane of sanity and reason.

But if ever these tools did reach another's eyes, or ears!
It was forbidden by all who knew, that is
Who knew that they must not know
For the sake of every other.
A volatile equation convinces them of the futility of pale reason.
It cannot compete in err or triumph,
But how could it?

An example is drawn when eyes are closed again.
The individual sense explains our death rite.
Must not speak.

Do you know the trees? Describe them.
No. Describe them truly.
How do they impress themselves upon you?
What can your person do to change me?
Now you understand the unspeakable darkness.

Dionysus' Madness

2008-05-16T02:54:00.000+01:00

I cannot stand the poet
Such an overexaggerated air
But not of confidence; themselves.

I, the Other

2008-05-13T22:02:00.000+01:00

I can't run, however
The weight continues to pull
And a head distorts the truth
Of whatever we can know, if we can.
But there is a tendency to assume -
This opinion?
Obviously we try to challenge this
Never fully justified by a
Lack of testimony
Only a return to the mimic
The form of life that fills
An idea to be.
Exist from now on, to make your
Freedom last and to exercise
The ultimate right of choice,
Which is.

He Remembered His Own Sarcasm

2008-05-07T22:18:00.000+01:00

My eyes close
And I return to the room
Unintentional
But calming
And warm
Transient harmony
If only for a moment
Before the other reappears
Outside of my eyes
The pressure and the weight
Light again
But cold for its space
And words that come and go -
Through that man we know no more
Except if wishing for northern slur
And praise of the old and grateful dead

An Entirely Unnecessary Composition

2008-05-07T22:06:00.001+01:00

Let us run counter to this expectation
That people try, and drift along
For not their minds are used for long.
Until does Fate destroy with tools
These vessels wrought by blind, poor fools.

Now take, and to, see, and why
Does it appear, before - can fly?
Not a cliché, divined by sight
But one of sound and enchanting light.

Perpetual plague - will to assume
Inevitable that it must consume
Eventual, life is ripped from birth
The other, the tyrant; laughter and mirth.

To whom, we grant the sabled eye?
A stream, but broken before the sky
The great life, through the world
Disaster as ever, truth unfurled.

And when sense nears its rest
Reason encounters its greatest test
The one, not other, commands a way
For the voice, its choice, to finally say.

Twenty-Two Propositions or; Sixteen Solutions

2008-05-07T22:05:00.000+01:00

Tempered steel and context wrought
A laboured day and battles fought
Deep in time, the abstract thought
Never new, the meaning bought

By Man

2008-04-26T17:21:00.000+01:00

Man's control over man is Almighty.
A struggle for freedom ever
Renews itself, on and on.
A mind so complex and disturbing
Is in turn so weak and misled
With ease, by man.

Acts

2008-03-15T21:41:00.000Z

How to become a university professor in English: be anti-social.

Share – let us develop together. Make lists, what do you activate? Are you a robot? Does an artificial mind comprehend the virtues of language? A monkey on the stage, preaching intelligence. Why do we listen? Choice? Apparently so. They give with one hand while the other holds ground. Control is our forte, we exercise when we can. Exceptions are expected, we are only human after all. Abolition of higher education. Is that not what you stated? I'm terribly sorry. I was mistaken. Lazy lectures, drunkards also, no care for the students they look to. Day by day. These lights, my eyes; they're burning.

Karl Marx – now I see the truth, attempts by my friend to convince me, John Lennon was a communist? Surely not utopia, the advancement of all man, doesn't quite equate to the red banner? Oh, Lenin, you fiend! Do you know now just what you started? Let us re-invent the world. Let the buildings fall and shine again.

Autonomy

2008-03-15T21:38:00.002Z

The day has turned too late

We forget what we once were

An hour's victim played

In the shadow of a stair

Return to body's rest

Exhale for why we care

Accept a daughter's pleas

Alone, the wander fair

Denial of the past

Limitless appeal

The world has made its mind

Known to all who hear

The gentle touch of life

A lover's whisper, dear

Breathe in me a new begin

Fight and kill and gasp and win.

Lie, Low

2008-03-15T21:37:00.001Z

Let us dream, and keep dreaming
The eye waits for none
A steady hand, but faster writing
And time turns for one.

Wait, do you hear?
Exception breathes the wind
Again, another year
Disaster; have we sinned?

Only I, a step for
A breach in the wrong direction
Allowing for, only I
Far clearer face, complexion.

A rattle bought, considered long
Alive, but surely teething?
Beware the vice, a poisoned son
The man, betrayed and seething.

A Natural Suicide

2008-03-15T21:11:00.001Z

But what does it mean?

Our angry voices cry

With the fervour and rhythm

Of a thought that feigns to fly.

Collective, we are

Give to the cause

I came from the

Past?

That cannot be true

For what significance

Can be attributed to life

Without that passage

To frame and guide?

I will not use 'we'

For fear of contagion

Needs breach the person

An extension

Of nothing, of all.

This, we come to the root

Of the very problem

Facing a wide berth

And stronger arms

For the last, and first

Is here.

Part Deux

Am I more cultured

May I now place myself atop

Of you?

Combining foreign and native

The social ladder proves itself to be

An easy climb; steal a language.

I defy your rules

But I live within your bounds

There is naught I can do

There is not I can be

I do not defy these rules.

TPoSCMoIDEWHBtAT

2008-03-15T21:03:00.000Z

Whenever I tell someone that
I write poetry
The phrase seems to stick
A stigma I've been drawn into
Willingly, for a time.

Since the first written venture
Perhaps it was ironic then
Trying to hold my laughter
from nudging my scribbling pen.

A break from reality through
A breakup, it came
The inspiration was laid quickly, and heavy.
A string of emotions inked out in black, and blue
But never red, I was told it was rude.

Reserve your opinions if you wish
But to my eye, no restrain will do.

Do Not Struggle

2008-03-15T20:37:00.000Z

When we came to be, that short time ago - but was it?
What is my justification for using that particular adjective?
That we haven't been dominant on this planet for as long as the dinosaurs were?
There is an immediate flaw there; what is dominant?
Do we mistake dominance for greed and self-harm?
What pride can we have in dominating a planet that we are destroying?
For the time being, however, I shall press on with the point. Do I surprise you?
Can I justify my words by referring to the continued, and original, existence of the planet that we inhabit?
Or perhaps in the universe lies the key?
I bring to the stand the predicament; which term is the righteous?
Humans have existed for a long time. Humans have existed for a short time.
Case 02: The human race has existed for a long time, as we have been part of the evolutionary web for many times any single span of life.
Furthermore, as the span of one's own life is all that a person can know about time, it is by default that anything longer than it must be classed as such. Relativity.
There is always a but, only the effectiveness of the manoeuvre can fluctuate widely. When do we grant humanity to have begun?
With the evolution of the Homo Sapien?
What of the genus?
If this proves to be too difficult an indicator would you consider the human race to have been in proper existence since the time of the first civilised nations?
If so would you consider many modern people to actually be of another race?
Inferior?
Why do I contradict myself?
What if we hadn't survived?

Post

2008-03-15T20:28:00.000Z

There is no
That we must know
In reference
But to whom?
Not self
But where?
Do not question
Broken
It equals it
Active possibility
of disunion