Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Corporations of Gratification

Civilizations rise and fall
and rise and fall and
stuck in some perpertual motion
like a pendelum swings
back and forth
forever doomed to repeat
the exact same paths
over and over
if none of this is real
then why does it hurt
if none of this is real
then why won't it stop
it's all just a game
like a roller coaster
zooming around
flipping upside down
only to be returned
to the starting place
and then to set off
people are dying
we are killing ourselves
has it been this way forever
has anything really changed

Adulation Depreivation

Like some karmic joke
An unseen force that travels throughout
Sculpting monuments
Where only nothingness had been before
They rise up
And triumph in the world
Like a beacon of hope
A bright light
That cannot be dimmed
Ignoring the circumstances
That brought them about
Ignorance is bliss
But ignoring the truth
Is something else entirely
Acting as though these transformations
Were spontaneous and unplanned
The veil of love
Is thrown off and discarded
Forever forgotten

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Native Conviviality

Alligators, not crocodiles,
Nestle down in the bayou
Amongst the cat-tails and nutria rats
Humanity has caged them here
Under dark starry skies,
Around September, mankind returns
Culling those too slow to dive into the depths

Taxidermists delight at the sight of such a large specimen
Enthusiastically the reptiles are hoisted up
Xyloidic monuments proclaim our superiority
Apathetic children glance as they pass
Sweaty and smiling they stroll down the hill

Prognatus Iterum

Perhaps reincarnation is not
About living multiple lives
But becoming separate people
Throughout this life
Each interaction a chance
To recreate yourself
To start fresh
Some may call that lying
But being true to yourself
Always comes off wrong
To someone else
Don't worry about another's opinion
Rejuvenate your being
You're only three lives down
You still have thousands to go
For all you know

Monday, October 12, 2009

Ode to the Führer

O' dear leader
I submit to thee
Lets empty this world
Of all those crazy souls
Of all those polluting prospects
Of all those angry parents and misbehaving children
I believe in eugenics and population control
Let's bring it down to 500,000
Like the Georgia Guidestones told us to
The answers are written on large stone tablets
Embrace it, live it, love it
It's evidently the only way
Because it's obviously impossible
For souls to think for themselves
For people to give a shit about their progeny
You're right, dear leader, kill us all

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Hematic Verity

Like capillaries the green, thorny twigs fans out and intertwine with the limbs of the young oak beside it. Across the top, a fallen branch nestles itself among the flowers alighting the tips of almost transparent limbs, as if to drain what's left of the bright fauna, ensuring no further bloom. The wet and soggy brown leaves contrast the colors of life, illustrating more fully its frailty. The thick spotted wood like dead tissue left over from a stroke. The neurological implications of which leave everything confused and muddled. The dark leaves like blood clots ready to be moved off further downhill at the strong push of some foreign force, like crimson liquid shooting out of the left ventricle as it makes its rounds. The youthful tree supporting all this weight is bowed like an old woman suffering from an arthritic attack. Removing the dead skin would prove useless it seems; already it has tied itself up and attached parts of its being like a hungry cancer intent on devouring healthy cells. Above the sky is clear and unfettered as if just waiting for the oak to snap its neck upwards and glance at the possibilities and straighten its spine so that is stands tall and proud amongst is fellow struggling life forms.

Apologue of Disimprisonment

Red over white lines run parallel to amber waves of grain. A navy blue box rests in the bottom right corner like a cage for its fifty inhabitants. Struggling to free themselves, each bright star discovers it's stuck like fireflies caught in that deep, black blanket that unrolls itself over a dying planet each night. Immoveable, immortal. Or so it has been foretold.
A symbol inverted is more meaningful than when used properly. A representation of ideas of freedom, an indication of struggles to come. A tri-colored cloth outlines our history, reminding us of the lives lost and the blood yet to be spilled in this eternal fight. I turn it on its head. If everything I have ever been told was a lie, perhaps this is exactly as it should be.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Actuating Transmogrify

In coming up with an equation to understand the meaning of life, a new problem arose. A tiny snippet of information came floating along, randomly, as seems to be the case with most of the known universe, and completely changed everything. Equations and summations and calculations were irrelevant. There was a clear lack of understanding in the way things are. Long ago dreams were trampled upon and shredded beneath the many, heavy footsteps that created this particular path. Contemplating the surroundings the consensus was reached to turn back and retrace the long barren path and return to that time when we conciously made the decision to part from our animal ways and embark on this new journey. It was soon apparent that we had gone too far, traveled too long. It was necessary to simply choose a new way. Right or left, it's time to leave the path, to choose a different direction and start anew.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


Parading through existence with the sureness of a bright peacock
Wrapped up in singularity, worshipping the ground walked upon
There is no other when enveloped in such luminescence
Infinity becomes a concept, never an attainable goal
The beauty of the self becomes overpowering
Answers are clear, the questions are evasive
The outskirts appear dark and dismal
No worries til the light begins to fade
Everything becomes brighter
Self wanes and dissipates
Ego fades out
Life begins

Monday, October 5, 2009

Enlightening Contingency Internalization

Soft, brown squares pulsating like breathing marshmallows. Neatly stitched lines of green dance across and down, horizontal and vertical like radio waves. Peak after peak, the neon glow ready to announced the end with that high pitched tone signifying your next journey. Falling backwards, sinking down into a velvety river, staring off into rainbow sunsets with small gusts of wind circulating, constantly distorting and creating images. In pitch black the leaves fold against bare skin, caressing each point and amplifying the sound of nothingness like electrons scattered across craniums littered with newly mowed patches where dignity could once be found. Festivities began like the aroma of four month old milk. Like peas in a pod they snuck out together leaving behind soft, flowing monuments once resembling walls now camouflaged with patchworks of bright orange art, splattered throughout, burning the nostrils and provoking involuntary reactions, natural instincts. From land to sea to air, always watchful, ever resourceful, conjuring up new methods to estimate the sum and subtract for damages and equate everything to an even larger fiasco: there aren't any numbers to be found in that seemingly empty fleshy cavern. Hoisted up and slippery like an eel, or perhaps more so like shark hunting. The carcass stuffed into a hard right angle albeit the creature's awkward fit, off to Oz they went never to be seen or heard from again. Inside the playground the Insects took over and did a poor job at cleaning up despite their best efforts, never to be recognized for their struggles. A crash of blinding light from the sky sent new thoughts spiraling out until the realization was met and circumstances faded out into the background as they often do.

Inaugural Omegan Acquiescence

I sit upon the floor in that style described in the absolute antithesis of political correctness by those in charge of young minds and stare off into nowhere of any importance. This is my reaction to the abstraction concocted in what some might deem too much alone time; this is my attempt at seizing this idealistic reality and climbing into those pleather seats of some brightly colored carnival ride and zooming forth. Eventually it will stop, or it won't and I'll be shot off at the speed of light barreling down on some unidentified flying object that will probably turn out to be in fact, a flaming comet that disintegrates what's left of me until it's as if I disappeared into thin air. Horrendous though it may seem, I fear not the unknown. It is now I swagger forth and lay claim to an apparition I'm as of yet still unable to imagine. Chaos is beautiful, relevant, and inherent. This is my surrender.