Sunday, April 1, 2012
ehngou
The world is humming beneath my heels, trembling to the sounds of everyone's footsteps and tears.
Why are there so many tears?
And everyone seems to be running.
I am so confused.
Every day dawns and passes
as I stand motionless
and from this peculiar vantage point of static bemusement I see
from the corners of my vision
Their shifting eyes and the apathetic choreography of their footsteps.
The Universal Them is teetering more than I am.
----------
I saw them eventually not as lights, but as candles.
Every few seconds some blew out as others flickered and flared in to existence.
----------
I don't mind who I am,
but I mind what I remember and think.
The problems lie in the systems of thought I have accrued.
"Enough!"
One word.
In the System.
System-ized pathways of abuse.
I'm subscribed to systematic abuse.
System-ized pathways of thoughts that hurt.
Why must I link so much back?
He was right when we spoke that night.
There is something unresolved, a desire, an addiction, something.
"Enough"
I scream.
I scream inside.
I scream inside constantly.
I scream inside constantly.
Which isn't beneficial.
Which isn't quite true.
I forget sometimes and it's lovely.
When it is not I wonder why.
Why must I remember with this much clarity?
It was an accident, I promise.
I didn't really understand what was happening.
That's why.
That's why it all blew up.
That's why I'm clinging and falling and failing.
I want to understand,
and I want to understand more than just me.
I want to understand the why of others and them and her and you.
Why?
I don't understand.
I don't understand the needs and falls and throes of humanities tyrannical fluctuations.
Why?
Enough of the blood and the pain and misdirection.
Enough of the loss and hatred and clos-minded dispositions.
Enough of the solitary confinement and picking, prodding, slapping, twisting, pinching, punching and plasticization.
Enough of the gruesome distortion of everything we should stand for as brothers and sisters.
ENOUGH.
Enough.
NO MORE of your HALF-HEarted lies. No more of your sly fickle movements.
Where is this so-called humanity we are supposed to exemplify. Enough.
You do not display this, none of you, none of us!
ENOUGH.
Why doesn't everyone Look and See and Think before they leap and cavort and slam into others?
Why must they squable petulantly over these seemingly pointless issues?
Why do these petty things concern them?
And WHY do they speak of them to me? ALL the TIME. So and so is blah blahblah blahblah!
And when this blabber comes it's from those who blabber because they cannot think for themsevles, they don't want to think for themselves.
it's the ones that do think that I would like to hear from every now and then.
The people who Don't speak because they are thinking about how to actually fix their problems.
ROAR.
I MEAN, WHY? WHY COMPLAIN TO ME ABOUT A PROBLEM IF YOU AREN'T ACTUALLY GOING TO FIX IT? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. STOP WASTING MY TIME.
ENOUGH.
STOP wasting my Time.
I don't want you to come to me with a self-deprecating smile to tell me about how you've most recently screwed up your life (for the six?seventh?twentieth?fiftieth?one-hundredth?), and expect my sympathy, because frankly, I will have a hard time scrounging up some for you. Clearly if you have constantly repeated the actions you perceive to be so damaging to yourself, you really don't care about fixing the issue as much as you claim to care. So, grow up and show a little spine for once in your life. If you actually care about what you've pretended to care about for this long, have the courage to grasp your life like the rumpled, knotted bed sheet it is and unravel the knots, shake out the critters, throw it in the washing machine w/ soap, then throw it in the dryer or pin it to the clothesline. When it has dried snap out a few of the wrinkles and then whisk it onver your mattress. Remake your bed, remake your life. If it is so upsetting, change it; if it's not, stop complaining to me about it and go send your spam mail to an actual garbage bin, rather than another human being.
I am tired of being a human trash can.
And I am utterly sick, physically sick by the weakness of humans, all of us.
What are we?
Who are you?
Why do they never understand the question? Why?
Tears, I cry about this sometimes.
Why don't they understand the question? It's so simple.
Do you know who you are?
Who are you?
Answer: [insert your name here.]
DUH!
Why does no one understand that question?
Their answers! Laughable!
"What do you mean?"
"I don't understand."
"In what sense?"
I understand what each person means, but I still can't truly conceive why no one seems to be able to comprehend that the question could be phrased at the most basic and honest level.
It's not a BS answer question. I want the most honest answer you can give me, so give me your name. That's likely the closest you'll get to true honesty.
Try.
I have faith.
Try.
Because I am sick of these BS answers. Answer honestly and tell me what you truly feel and try actually thinking for once. Please. Please.
I have faith in your ability to think.
But I don't believe you ever will.
HAHAHA.
And, planet of humanity, I'm beginning to not care. I'm beginning to give up on you. I'm beginning to give up on the hope of a sizable number of people being able to actually think through their lives.
I think I'm beginning to despair of ever being able to comprehend mine.
I need to hear a steady heart beat, or at least feel one, even if it means pressing my hand to my chest constantly to feel the pu-pound of life, the assurance that this is all real.
I'm floating through life, and my dreams are washing over me and into my realities and my realities are becoming dreams in this caterwauling nightmare. My life is one of my nightmares, one of my re-occuring nightmares, and I've yet to find the key to re-writing the code behind it. My life. My life?
I need something more than this. I need a nightly dance before a bonfire to tribal drums and raucous chanting. I need something more inside than the emptiness that is sucking my ribs down, and I need a viable way to express my anger. A viable way to convert this suppressed rage into something positive and constructive.
Because right now I alternately fly through life with fearsome ferocity and fall to the ground beneath the weight of thousands of fallacies.
Enough.
Heh. Alliteration. I <3 alliteration no matter the level of corniness.
Why are there so many tears?
And everyone seems to be running.
I am so confused.
Every day dawns and passes
as I stand motionless
and from this peculiar vantage point of static bemusement I see
from the corners of my vision
Their shifting eyes and the apathetic choreography of their footsteps.
The Universal Them is teetering more than I am.
----------
I saw them eventually not as lights, but as candles.
Every few seconds some blew out as others flickered and flared in to existence.
----------
I don't mind who I am,
but I mind what I remember and think.
The problems lie in the systems of thought I have accrued.
"Enough!"
One word.
In the System.
System-ized pathways of abuse.
I'm subscribed to systematic abuse.
System-ized pathways of thoughts that hurt.
Why must I link so much back?
He was right when we spoke that night.
There is something unresolved, a desire, an addiction, something.
"Enough"
I scream.
I scream inside.
I scream inside constantly.
I scream inside constantly.
Which isn't beneficial.
Which isn't quite true.
I forget sometimes and it's lovely.
When it is not I wonder why.
Why must I remember with this much clarity?
It was an accident, I promise.
I didn't really understand what was happening.
That's why.
That's why it all blew up.
That's why I'm clinging and falling and failing.
I want to understand,
and I want to understand more than just me.
I want to understand the why of others and them and her and you.
Why?
I don't understand.
I don't understand the needs and falls and throes of humanities tyrannical fluctuations.
Why?
Enough of the blood and the pain and misdirection.
Enough of the loss and hatred and clos-minded dispositions.
Enough of the solitary confinement and picking, prodding, slapping, twisting, pinching, punching and plasticization.
Enough of the gruesome distortion of everything we should stand for as brothers and sisters.
ENOUGH.
Enough.
NO MORE of your HALF-HEarted lies. No more of your sly fickle movements.
Where is this so-called humanity we are supposed to exemplify. Enough.
You do not display this, none of you, none of us!
ENOUGH.
Why doesn't everyone Look and See and Think before they leap and cavort and slam into others?
Why must they squable petulantly over these seemingly pointless issues?
Why do these petty things concern them?
And WHY do they speak of them to me? ALL the TIME. So and so is blah blahblah blahblah!
And when this blabber comes it's from those who blabber because they cannot think for themsevles, they don't want to think for themselves.
it's the ones that do think that I would like to hear from every now and then.
The people who Don't speak because they are thinking about how to actually fix their problems.
ROAR.
I MEAN, WHY? WHY COMPLAIN TO ME ABOUT A PROBLEM IF YOU AREN'T ACTUALLY GOING TO FIX IT? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. STOP WASTING MY TIME.
ENOUGH.
STOP wasting my Time.
I don't want you to come to me with a self-deprecating smile to tell me about how you've most recently screwed up your life (for the six?seventh?twentieth?fiftieth?one-hundredth?), and expect my sympathy, because frankly, I will have a hard time scrounging up some for you. Clearly if you have constantly repeated the actions you perceive to be so damaging to yourself, you really don't care about fixing the issue as much as you claim to care. So, grow up and show a little spine for once in your life. If you actually care about what you've pretended to care about for this long, have the courage to grasp your life like the rumpled, knotted bed sheet it is and unravel the knots, shake out the critters, throw it in the washing machine w/ soap, then throw it in the dryer or pin it to the clothesline. When it has dried snap out a few of the wrinkles and then whisk it onver your mattress. Remake your bed, remake your life. If it is so upsetting, change it; if it's not, stop complaining to me about it and go send your spam mail to an actual garbage bin, rather than another human being.
I am tired of being a human trash can.
And I am utterly sick, physically sick by the weakness of humans, all of us.
What are we?
Who are you?
Why do they never understand the question? Why?
Tears, I cry about this sometimes.
Why don't they understand the question? It's so simple.
Do you know who you are?
Who are you?
Answer: [insert your name here.]
DUH!
Why does no one understand that question?
Their answers! Laughable!
"What do you mean?"
"I don't understand."
"In what sense?"
I understand what each person means, but I still can't truly conceive why no one seems to be able to comprehend that the question could be phrased at the most basic and honest level.
It's not a BS answer question. I want the most honest answer you can give me, so give me your name. That's likely the closest you'll get to true honesty.
Try.
I have faith.
Try.
Because I am sick of these BS answers. Answer honestly and tell me what you truly feel and try actually thinking for once. Please. Please.
I have faith in your ability to think.
But I don't believe you ever will.
HAHAHA.
And, planet of humanity, I'm beginning to not care. I'm beginning to give up on you. I'm beginning to give up on the hope of a sizable number of people being able to actually think through their lives.
I think I'm beginning to despair of ever being able to comprehend mine.
I need to hear a steady heart beat, or at least feel one, even if it means pressing my hand to my chest constantly to feel the pu-pound of life, the assurance that this is all real.
I'm floating through life, and my dreams are washing over me and into my realities and my realities are becoming dreams in this caterwauling nightmare. My life is one of my nightmares, one of my re-occuring nightmares, and I've yet to find the key to re-writing the code behind it. My life. My life?
I need something more than this. I need a nightly dance before a bonfire to tribal drums and raucous chanting. I need something more inside than the emptiness that is sucking my ribs down, and I need a viable way to express my anger. A viable way to convert this suppressed rage into something positive and constructive.
Because right now I alternately fly through life with fearsome ferocity and fall to the ground beneath the weight of thousands of fallacies.
Enough.
Heh. Alliteration. I <3 alliteration no matter the level of corniness.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
deep but dazzling darkness
I glimpsed Eternity the other night
like a ring of pure and endless light,
becalmed, divine insight
and round beneath it Time, in hours, days, years,
empowered by the spheres
like a vast shadow trailed, in which the world
and all her claim were hurled.
There is in God some say
a deep but dazzling darkness
a bottomless well of significance
a velvet death to pride
There stood the King of glory on his throne
the motes of starlight trembled, dimly shone
pure, resounding, infinite tone
their silent song of praise heartfelt response
awestruck by majesty
O for that endless night where I in Him
might rest invisible and dim
like a ring of pure and endless light,
becalmed, divine insight
and round beneath it Time, in hours, days, years,
empowered by the spheres
like a vast shadow trailed, in which the world
and all her claim were hurled.
There is in God some say
a deep but dazzling darkness
a bottomless well of significance
a velvet death to pride
There stood the King of glory on his throne
the motes of starlight trembled, dimly shone
pure, resounding, infinite tone
their silent song of praise heartfelt response
awestruck by majesty
O for that endless night where I in Him
might rest invisible and dim
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Resignation
I'm done.
I'm turning in my badge,
my stethoscope,
my x-ray and hammer,
my paints and paintbrushes,
my dagger,
my dirk,
my running shoes,
my pencils,
my books,
my food,
my water,
my shade
and last of all my warmth.
I resign.
Thank you for promoting my brief stay/employment.
Mercy.
I'm turning in my badge,
my stethoscope,
my x-ray and hammer,
my paints and paintbrushes,
my dagger,
my dirk,
my running shoes,
my pencils,
my books,
my food,
my water,
my shade
and last of all my warmth.
I resign.
Thank you for promoting my brief stay/employment.
Mercy.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Traveling
They said it would be a walk to remember,
the voices in my head.
They were right of course;
They always are.
the voices in my head.
They were right of course;
They always are.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
death is a handsome fellow - Hercule's lament
I am indestructible
bronze-bruised sinew
varnished pewter fangs.
my tendons slice cheese.
full to the rim with vain gray matter,
saving the world is never hard when you're
bent on self destruction.
I am embarrassed
by their neon stares
will they destroy me with their headlines?
molten gold lacquers my throat.
and makes it hard to speak.
do I dare disturb the universe?
notorious for my strategy and for my flippant hair,
I find no solace in their acid regard.
I am a hero
with no ulterior motive, my pregnant mind
labels and categorizes Samson's strengths
subtracts Delilah's lashes
and multiplies them by ten.
I can name the date and method of my execution.
That's gratitude for you.
bronze-bruised sinew
varnished pewter fangs.
my tendons slice cheese.
full to the rim with vain gray matter,
saving the world is never hard when you're
bent on self destruction.
I am embarrassed
by their neon stares
will they destroy me with their headlines?
molten gold lacquers my throat.
and makes it hard to speak.
do I dare disturb the universe?
notorious for my strategy and for my flippant hair,
I find no solace in their acid regard.
I am a hero
with no ulterior motive, my pregnant mind
labels and categorizes Samson's strengths
subtracts Delilah's lashes
and multiplies them by ten.
I can name the date and method of my execution.
That's gratitude for you.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Once Upon A December
ON a small
'painted ship
Land recedes in the distance
Farther South
Long since past
Spring has flown to the netherworld
Winter comes and wraps us all
Snow drifts down and the ship is froze
Ice has trapped us in the sea
Winter's come to destroy us all
Lost at sea
No place to go
Hunger gnaws at our bellies
We've come so far
with so far to go
Sun come quickly and spring return
Then the captain dreams a dream
Wild and crazy
an escapist scheme
Creates a nooze and flings it faaaaar
He catches the sun and makes it ours
(to be sung to ^ once upona december)
'painted ship
Land recedes in the distance
Farther South
Long since past
Spring has flown to the netherworld
Winter comes and wraps us all
Snow drifts down and the ship is froze
Ice has trapped us in the sea
Winter's come to destroy us all
Lost at sea
No place to go
Hunger gnaws at our bellies
We've come so far
with so far to go
Sun come quickly and spring return
Then the captain dreams a dream
Wild and crazy
an escapist scheme
Creates a nooze and flings it faaaaar
He catches the sun and makes it ours
(to be sung to ^ once upona december)
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
embracing the inevitable mechanism
I am the human robot: a puppeteer's lost plaything
Of seven pieces: threads torn cloth faded
Seven lonely pieces: I dangle from cruel strings
I am the human robot: I hear you human robot
Dissected and neglected: never allowed a moment's rest
Inside the genius's mind: manipulated again
I watch; I fade, I faint
He paces in his room: the audience cares not
His eyes glazed and wandering: the show must go on
I am the human robot
Born of seven pieces
Trapped within the old man's mind
I am the human robot.
and I wished I were a real girl
but we are programmed to obey.
birthed by undiscerning hand
I am the human puppet
I am the soul of knuts and bolts
I am a heart and mind in a cloth cage
You are the dissembler
Who is the true Pretender?
Assemble me in one, two, three
we are the ones who cannot be free
If I could be engendered
I would be understood.
But in his mind
He's locked me tight
and everyone is selfish.
Neglected, used, ignored, abused
We slink through life with bashful eyes
With no need to surrender,
No need to clamor, clank nor clunk
Because I Am mechanics.
and there is no free will in that.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Mechanics
I am the human robot
Of seven pieces
Seven lonely pieces
I am the human robot
Dissected and neglected
Inside the genius's mind
I watch;
He paces in his room
His eyes glazed and wandering
I am the human robot
Born of seven pieces
Trapped within the old man's mind
I am the human robot.
I am the soul of knuts and bolts
You are the dissembler
Assemble me in one, two, three
If I could be engendered
But in his mind
He's locked me tight
With no need to surrender
No need to clamor, clank nor clunk
Because I Am mechanics.
Of seven pieces
Seven lonely pieces
I am the human robot
Dissected and neglected
Inside the genius's mind
I watch;
He paces in his room
His eyes glazed and wandering
I am the human robot
Born of seven pieces
Trapped within the old man's mind
I am the human robot.
I am the soul of knuts and bolts
You are the dissembler
Assemble me in one, two, three
If I could be engendered
But in his mind
He's locked me tight
With no need to surrender
No need to clamor, clank nor clunk
Because I Am mechanics.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
How lovely
How lovely is the morning after a stint in the netherworld,
netherworld of idiocy.
How lovely is the morning.
When my feet stumble at the sound of life plucking heartstrings,
I hear the words sing
from the depths of my soul:
Shhh, heart, softly, softly.
Softly softly,
Softly, softly.
Shh, heart, softly:
Do not pound for the past's revenge.
Here is where your faint fluttering shall
Reside.
netherworld of idiocy.
How lovely is the morning.
When my feet stumble at the sound of life plucking heartstrings,
I hear the words sing
from the depths of my soul:
Shhh, heart, softly, softly.
Softly softly,
Softly, softly.
Shh, heart, softly:
Do not pound for the past's revenge.
Here is where your faint fluttering shall
Reside.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
autobiography in seventeen thoughts
She was feather fragile and her eyes were tinged a melancholy grey
The probing winds batted her about curiously
she tried to muster nonexistent strength but couldn't stand
Taking her hesitation as consent, the blustery day billowed her away
Airborne she saw no use in struggling - no way to stand her ground removed from earth.
Dizzy with a reluctant sense of liberation from the predictable patterns of the days
details blurred, colors melted
her eyes pricked in the wind and watered
The land beneath her rolled on forever
She was trapped
Pressurized Asylum
able to see the world but forbidden to take part in it
disclaiming observation, she turned her eyes to the tireless sun and leeched strength from its warmth
drenched in ambergold weight
the wind felt her filling - no longer translucent
and she began to slowly slip back to the surface
sliding like liquid through the wind's desperate, stretching fingers
The probing winds batted her about curiously
she tried to muster nonexistent strength but couldn't stand
Taking her hesitation as consent, the blustery day billowed her away
Airborne she saw no use in struggling - no way to stand her ground removed from earth.
Dizzy with a reluctant sense of liberation from the predictable patterns of the days
details blurred, colors melted
her eyes pricked in the wind and watered
The land beneath her rolled on forever
She was trapped
Pressurized Asylum
able to see the world but forbidden to take part in it
disclaiming observation, she turned her eyes to the tireless sun and leeched strength from its warmth
drenched in ambergold weight
the wind felt her filling - no longer translucent
and she began to slowly slip back to the surface
sliding like liquid through the wind's desperate, stretching fingers
to free herself of echos, haunts,
specters, ghouls, ghosts, and fears - she shouldered her weapon of choice
a dreamcatcher's web of finely woven strands
given to her by the Creator
the nightmares, spun and buzzed and dodged and struck
but then they were stuck
arrested in flight, unable to continue tearing at her hair
unable to keep beating at her with their foggy wings - their accusations leaving streaks of tar and feathers across her shoulders and back
clutching her skin with their talons - pulling and slicing until her skin parted and the life blood welled up
they screeched as they dangled suspended in the dreamcatcher. She covered her ears and then threw the dreamcatcher in the nearest trashcan
it clanged as she victoriously slammed the lid upon them. silence fell
and for the first time in a long long time
she saw clearly
She turned and looked to the past
her shadow halted, mid momentum
and she held out her hand, waveringly
afraid to watch the silhouette turn and run again - run forever and never look back
or worse
disintegrate into a cloud of ash when she reached for it
she dropped to her knees instead
and waited for the sun to set
and her shadow crept closer,
and closer
like a spooked horse, curious to see what had changed
until at last it nuzzled her outstretched hand
and in her mind flashed a hundred brilliant images
vivid autumn leaves whirled around her, sweeping her hair up to join their glorious dance
the wind tickled and caressed her skin
she felt a hand, warm and real, entwined with her own
and attached to that hand was an arm
and attached to that arm was a body
and inside that body was a soul
that loved her
and they lived happily ever after.
the end
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Ss.
Whispers haunted her steps,
remnants of a past
fighting the decomposition of time.
They hissed at her ankles,
snapping at the heels blistered
by the friction of her flight:
remnants of a past
fighting the decomposition of time.
They hissed at her ankles,
snapping at the heels blistered
by the friction of her flight:
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