Sonnet a day 2try

The same world is around you

and then it is gone an hour hence

a well of gravity builds inside you

and all that is solid begins to sway and dance

.

The confines and mysteries of the world,

flood like a beach wave and childhood renewed

and a glimpse at a greater scope is becoming unfurled

creeping uncertainty and curiosity over mood

.

What is what, and this is, how can be?

That this is now and that was then.

We all are is and one thing cant you see?

And now that I know, I can maybe bend.

.

Truth is a path best tread alone, with only guides and never gifts

Mind and wary be, what you seek, will always shimmer and shift.

Sonnet a day 1 : On Dicipline

So  something I’ve told myself I’m going to start doing, Each day I’m going to write a sonnet, I may not always post them, but I will if I got nothing else. They are likely going to be just terrible because it’s more of an exercise to get better with words than any kind of attempt at anything legitimate. I usually don’t plan out anything, but start out where I’m feeling and work from there. Rhyming is always weird when you have to force it. I am also not keeping to any kind of meter per line for those sonnet nuts out here if you exist. Here’s the first one I wrote last night.

What could be more elusive than discipline?

The specter of death does not harry me so.

Much greater ease to…do a line

Than to organize thoughts for one to go.

So much is said to be gained,

From steadfast work and devotion,

And yet here I have remained,

my head sputtering with useless commotion.

Is this only a moment of clarity?

What befalls those with simple grandeur?

Is it all just mediocrity?

That to my face takes petty pander?

I fear I’m likely a fool’s simpleton

And that death would come easier than any discipline.

(I realize maybe some of you may not think this one is humorous, but It’s more of a sarcastic joke on how in shambles my life has been, I’ve been sick for the last few days but I finally cleaned out my room. It feels better, but I haven’t been in the best mood recently. Hence, a lot of stuff on my life falling into shambles. Hopefully with spring I’ll start to feel better and stuff I post can reflect that. Anyway, something to think about enjoy! (also I do not do cocaine, I couldn’t think of a good way to say what I wanted and rhyme it to discipline.)

Choices

Sometimes you wonder what choices you could have made and if that might have changed your entire reality, who knows how different the world could have been if you decided to go that other route. Well you didn’t. You went the way that it is now, maybe that’s a depressing thought, maybe its a happy thought. Perhaps It’s just neutral. But there is no way t really know just how different things could have been, they could have been better or like a million times worse than things are now. But that’s okay, because that means that right now is the best balance between extremes.

But there is another thought…what if making that choice that would have shattered you out of whatever funk, maybe that choice that you think ruined everything, what if going a different way would have changed nothing, and through all manner of convoluted happenings, the same overall outcome would still be happening to you.

I guess that really boils down to whether you think time and plans and our choices are already planned out for us or if we are actually changing anything. Well I mean we are changing things, but weather we have a choice in the matter is up for debate. Well we don’t have a choice to change things or not, because by the mere fact of us being born we changed someone’s life. We were never given a choice to be alive wherever we are as far as I can remember.

When I was little I thought about the idea that all the babies were hanging out in heaven, or maybe all the dead people in heaven…I was raised christian until my whole family just stopped caring…That all the people in heaven would choose where they would want to be born, and then they would fly down and…be born. It was like a big thing of musical chairs where everybody took a turn being dead and then being born. It didn’t stop with just people either, if you wanted to reborn as a cat or a giraffe you could do that. Morality of whether you were good or bad never factored into my vision of souls jumping back and forth from the afterlife to life-life. I guess this means that my particular view of reincarnation would not have been a practical religion, but perhaps a basis for one.

Point being that religions are meant to give people an ideal of morality and fend off the existential crisis of life. But in the idea that I had meant that choice didn’t really matter. Any creature on earth (my theory never expanded to alien planets) was just as good a choice as any other, and whatever you picked was really just to enjoy living life in a different form. Then you died and got to say “well I’ve been a fox, how about an amoeba?” .  The reason none of us would remember our past lives  while living was a necessity to really live life as whatever creature you chose. Up in heaven you would remember all of them.

It was a nice thought. But the thing was I think I actually believed it for a time and it affected the way I see choices in general. Of course later in life a helping of psychoactive drugs would also change my worldview, but the point I’m trying to make I guess is that we don’t really know what’s behind the scenes, what we can perceive and what we cant, what’s happened and what we remember. Anything we have instilled in our mind as “a way things are” or “A way things are supposed to be”  we had no choice in being told those things.

All you can really choose is to be afraid of the future, or have faith in the future, to regret the past or accept it. Being cynical is a foolish way to seem smart for no reason other than to change the opinions of others.

I guess I don’t really have a point. But I hope you have a good day.

Bigger things on my mind.

Okay, so lets say that I find someone who I love, whatever love really means, and lets say I spend my time with that person and we hold hands and laugh and carry on with fulfilling each others’ sexual fantasies  and all that jazz. I know eventually what that leads to is having some kind of offspring, and that involves creating a new person, and that person makes more people, and more people keep making more people and that keeps fucking over the earth until there are no resources left and everything dies.

I guess there is adoption, but that’s like the same thing.

I mean it’s a selfish thing to say that what genes i put in are gonna lead to the kid who grows up to solve all the fuckn’ problems. most people don’t try to solve any problems.

No, it;s better off that I just don’t get involved, if I just don’t look for anyone, I’ll just devote my time to my work, writing things and traveling, and writing about traveling. making up stories and commenting on the status quo with my own observation and ending up poor homeless and broke, but maybe somewhere cool where they still respect hobos.. maybe Australia, or Iceland.

I’ll just devote myself to something, and even if it changes nothing at least I can say, “hey I did that stuff at least”

Maybe when I’m dead people will see some stuff in something somewhere. After the internet is gone and some some scrap of paper with something I scribbled on when I felt the pangs of loneliness and the crushing embrace of the voidy aspects of existence, maybe someone will find that and suddenly the conundrum of their life is made clear and they have some kind of zen style enlightenment and that person goes on to lead what remains of humanity back to a civilization but without the folly of our ways and that awesome civilization, inspired by a poem I wrote, goes on to create technology and culture that our primitive, unenlightened minds could never comprehend like…fuckn…mind..wave…power, or maybe they discover the latent powers humanity has that we just forgot.

Maybe they go on to space  somehow and create new planets with different evolutionary timelines that lead to all wonderment of fantastical species of plants and animals, like talking dogs or sentient daises, and all the people aren’t ashamed of themselves and run around the grass all naked in the sun and shit because no one is sexualized or unsightly in the awesome culture of people and sentient daisy-dogs, but like all the people still get it on (consensually) however they want because they can all tell eachothers’ thoughts. Stuff we would think is really weird and taboo would be totally cool because we are all just temporary beings in a fluctuating world…and..

well that’s why I think we should be seeing other people.

That which is lost cannot be taken, That which is whole cannot be unmakein, Those who are strong will be shaken,

That which is lost cannot be taken,

That which is whole cannot be unmakein,

Those who are strong will be shaken,

What was once held will always need holding,

What is occurring will continue unfolding.

Lay your broken switches aside

bused back and tattered hide

know forgiveness of illusion’s lie

What was once held will always need holding

What is occurring will continue unfolding

The wisp of our songs call mute in the dark

Heard not by ears but by the faith in our heart

What patterns we find will always need holding

the world we create will continue unfolding.

Seek not in desperate hours,

For relief from the pull of great powers,

Find strength in your roots and bowers,

Break the pain and end withholding

Decide which course is unfolding.

Know that Knowing is our fate

Walk with me through the shimmering gate

Though faces contort and they hate

Watch my little lost one, how they reach

And never sit on a sturdy niche.

Yes they spin in our heads and sap our eyes and they prick our nose and tell us lies. What foul trickery, waste and deceit, the scope of it all begs to retreat, the soring chorus from the lords that abhor us.  And yet we hold the staff, we hold the septer.

No madness can pull you from what we fear to see

where we fear to tread

or the blood we will bleed

Our eyes have many lenses

Our minds many mirrors

our thoughts many speakers

That which is held will always need holding

This will never stop unfolding.

1,2,3,

Spiral Spiral Spiral,

Wind it tighter tighter tighter,

Refine raw material

Feed it to the machine

Wind wind wind

Refine refine refine

Feed feed feed

Forefinger, Wrist, Shoulder

click

down down down down

feed feed feed

Where does it all go?

Where does it all stay?

That cannot be my brain.

down down scroll down

spiral spiral data spiral

refine it

feed it

to the new machines.

Sleep Deprivation

The crisp blue light,

only shows,

That the poison images,

are living

inside my slacking sinew.

The gravity pulls back,

to turn away from this shackle and face the silence once more,

instead,

I skip across the dreams realized by others,

closer to death.

Somewhere beyond the words and light and thoughts,

beyond the waste of worn pathways,

beyond the mocking laugh of the sliding sun and stars,

when light and thought and words are no more,

Maybe I will finally fall asleep.

And yet temptation is an ocean that I drown in

Distraction is the sharp bite of my vice

The poison lingers sweetly

and stings when sober

If I could only SHATTER the veil that burns my eyes and saps my wasting body

Break my head from the illusions and damn the dreams of others.

Maybe,

Eventually

I could fucking sleep.