what is the purpose of my flesh?
to decay alone?
oh how slow this life
never a bright day arrives
but always a nefarious night
in which i gaze up at the dark abyss
and find nothing but fury and fragility
within my dying self
it is as though ive dies already
not living really to anyone
i am merely another passerby
deserving not a second look
and only to be cut down,
left behind like some kind of old, rotten rag
whatever branded me with this horrid fate?
to which i belong,
this somber song
of uselessness,
i am nothing
never seen by a soul
has ever a thought been thought of me?
oh God what a sore is this melancholy!
my throat closes in
my eyes well up
the earth keeps turning
my time soon will be up
oh Lord what can Ido!
I've tried!
but what stride now might i take to win backmy hope?
oh for any others' sight i grope!
but i am already a ghost
enclosed by air
which must obscure me
away i fade
by all forbade
my flesh lives for nothing
my breath keeps going
for nothing
Thursday, November 3, 2011
this is life
What a conniving shard is life,
Like a shattered mirror into which I stare
To find no other eyes but my own
Gazing back perplexedly
Stuck back deep into my skull
Looking pale and gaunt
And never divulging an answer
But leaving me in unrelenting desire
From which nothing can transpire
Like a shattered mirror into which I stare
To find no other eyes but my own
Gazing back perplexedly
Stuck back deep into my skull
Looking pale and gaunt
And never divulging an answer
But leaving me in unrelenting desire
From which nothing can transpire
alone in a full world
The world is brimming bright
Spilling over with souls
Yet here am I alone
Environed by a million
Yet each eye I encounter
Swiftly swivels away.
I must have receded into the air
Like a mist never sensed
Have I transformed
Into formlessness?
Spilling over with souls
Yet here am I alone
Environed by a million
Yet each eye I encounter
Swiftly swivels away.
I must have receded into the air
Like a mist never sensed
Have I transformed
Into formlessness?
time past..never happy
On winds the woeful clock
Chanting our fleeting time
Mocking our mortality
And here sit we to sulk
In anxious tribulation
Decaying slowly
And when does a bright dawn
Ascend upon vibrant trees
Whose branches flutter in cheer
Whose leaves shine green
And the sun is purer
Than God himself
Still shall the sheen
Of those vast blue skies
Subside into the past
The past always imagined
So much brighter
Than today.
Chanting our fleeting time
Mocking our mortality
And here sit we to sulk
In anxious tribulation
Decaying slowly
And when does a bright dawn
Ascend upon vibrant trees
Whose branches flutter in cheer
Whose leaves shine green
And the sun is purer
Than God himself
Still shall the sheen
Of those vast blue skies
Subside into the past
The past always imagined
So much brighter
Than today.
life
Malicious and fleeting
The serpent that is life
Whose fangs bereaving
Leave us in solemn strife.
The venomous virulence
That is first a sensible sense
Is one thought more
A loathsome grievance.
The serpent that is life
Whose fangs bereaving
Leave us in solemn strife.
The venomous virulence
That is first a sensible sense
Is one thought more
A loathsome grievance.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
sereneeeee
Serene the waves break tenderly,
Sloshing softly on the shore,
A great nostalgia thus implored
For each one broken but before,
And yet an eager air upbeat
Seeks to with the fresh waves meet
And in their solace, glowing, greet,
The impassioned heart of life complete,
Profound its liberating beat,
Singing tranquility soft and sweet.
Unfurling from the clouds this ray
Of dawning light sinks to my flesh,
Opening my eyes like gates,
To wondrous visions blessed.
The passing of the earth before me,
Waves ebbing a waning shore,
Does pour into my heart serene
The fluid hues of light adored,
Beaming brightly as Selene,
By one golden sheen absorbed.
Sloshing softly on the shore,
A great nostalgia thus implored
For each one broken but before,
And yet an eager air upbeat
Seeks to with the fresh waves meet
And in their solace, glowing, greet,
The impassioned heart of life complete,
Profound its liberating beat,
Singing tranquility soft and sweet.
Unfurling from the clouds this ray
Of dawning light sinks to my flesh,
Opening my eyes like gates,
To wondrous visions blessed.
The passing of the earth before me,
Waves ebbing a waning shore,
Does pour into my heart serene
The fluid hues of light adored,
Beaming brightly as Selene,
By one golden sheen absorbed.
why america needs multi-party political system
The current U.S. political system is sinking deep into an intolerable dysfunctionality. Our two political parties, the Democrats and the Republicans, have proved too many times their utter inability to reach solutions for our country’s most glaring problems. Political debate between the two has simply lost its effectiveness, which has been replaced by empty but inflammatory rhetoric. A prime example is the debate over abortion, in which both sides for and against abortion dare not listen at all to the other, certain they each have the higher moral ground and eager to demonize their opponents. A huge part of this unwillingness to listen and thus inability to reach a solution appears to be caused by an enormous distrust. The two parties deeply distrust each other, and while it may be vital to stand one’s ground and fight for what is right, it is too frequently obvious that the right solution cannot be fathomed without acknowledging and fully comprehending the other side of the argument. To ignore the other side is to deny that it is valid, and while certainly a falsehood can be logically declared to be so when the truth is known, some analyzing has to be done to realize this, the logic behind each side must be compared, and this is what immediate denial of possible validity fails to do, so that even when the logic of two opposing views may coexist or even function together, or if one view is indeed completely wrong, a working solution cannot be reached. The truthful premises must be fully distinguished and reason must be used to analyze what arguments logically follow the absolute premises. If an opposing view is neglected, it cannot be reasoned as being valid or not, and in today’s political system, immediate denial of the opposition has become ingrained in both sides on so many of the biggest issues due to distrust, so that truth is too blurred to be a factor. And if upon analyzation both sides of an issue prove valid, then it follows simply that they both must be factors of the solution. But is this impossible to do politically because of the nature of politics? If everyone was so eager to ascertain the truth and reach solutions, solutions could easily be reached. But not everyone is so eager nor informed sufficiently to analyze all our issues (whether due to distrust or, more frequently, failing to do the research required to be informed which is most often caused by the somewhat valid sense of uselessness in an individual's capacity to affect politics), which is mainly why politicians rendered incapable of making working solutions themselves are elected. Because politicians can only hold office with the people’s consent, and the people cannot or do not analyze what the people they are voting for are truly standing for, politicians must appeal to these people by taking stands on issues which are not necessarily logical positions, merely popular positions. Politics is popularity and popular ideas are not always the best., but these politicians must hold true to their campaigns to stay in office, and must stand steadfastly against their opposition, which has over time bred this distrust. I propose that the birth of a third major political party has great potential to decrease this distrust. If there were a third major political party, the solution making would no longer be a bipolar win-lose scenario, but a multi-sided debate in which politicians would be more willing to and capable of reaching solutions. Instead of two parties entering a deadlock, a multi-party system would ensure more effective checks and balances on the political parties much like the checks and balances successfully enacted in the three parts of the entire government, the legislative, executive, and judicial branches, which would be unsuccessful if any of its two parts combined, which could easily produce the deadlocks and lack of solutions that our current two-party political system is restricted to producing.
The ideology of this third party would be a more liberal version of the democrats, allowing for a better place for votes to go from the lower class which without doubt has the most strain on its basic right granted by the social contract to consent to be governed how it is because it is simply not represented enough. I claim that the lowest class is not as protected by the social contract as they rightfully should be nor as much as anyone else in America is because they are powerless to change their dismal position is society. They are not truly granted the right to consent to be governed they way they are, because if they were granted this right, they would not be trapped in their miserable positions. Their right to negotiate or to give their input is virtually nonexistent, because even though they may be able to vote, what can voting accomplish when the only candidates they can vote for are not addressing all of what they need to be addressed? How can a political system based on the consent of the governed govern justly or even reasonably while omitting the most desperate needs of so many people? A third party aimed at these currently overlooked but absolutely essential needs would give the lower class the advantage it justly deserves.
The powerless position of the lowest classes is most evident when looking at their income, which is unfairly low, too low to even live off of. Fox news may give its pathetic attempt to disprove this fact, stating that the majority of the “lower class” owns refrigerators, but I must plead that a refrigerator is one thing and the unnecessary burden of stress over how these people are to pay for the food to go in it is another. Of course America is not a third world country and obviously lower class Americans are not starving Ethiopians. However, they are the Americans most deprived of the right to consent to be governed, and it is in the fabric of the Constitution to protect equally this vital right of all, and it is in the nature of the government’s basis to solve the country’s most dire problems, and the lowly state of these Americans protrudes grotesquely when it is taken into consideration how easily this unnecessary suffering could be abolished. Taxes on the wealthiest Americans during the last eight years has dropped due to the Bush tax cuts to thirty-five percent, a cut which has disproportionately favored wealthy Americans and has been a major factor in the government’s now huge debt and the recent economic recession, or depression as labeled by many, which has hit hardest the lowest class. The tax rate on the richest Americans in the nineteen fifties, a whopping ninety percent, allowed for the booming economy and for nearly all Americans to be a part of a very well-off middle class. But the dominating republicans of today, having the power of their money translated into unfair political power, would not let such a tax rate pass over their dead, rotting bodies. However, to mention fox news again, they have led too many Americans into believing that the only unfair taxes today are those not paid. Sadly for this translucent deceit is the fact that the Americans who don’t pay taxes are only those who cannot due mainly to unemployment which has been caused by the bad economy which has been caused mostly by tax cuts on the richest. Because of the lower class’ lack of political power, their arguments against regressive tax rates and excessive tax cuts for the richest can fall only on deaf ears. I am not proposing communism here, merely the deserved and reasonable representation of the people who need it most.
The ideology of this third party would be a more liberal version of the democrats, allowing for a better place for votes to go from the lower class which without doubt has the most strain on its basic right granted by the social contract to consent to be governed how it is because it is simply not represented enough. I claim that the lowest class is not as protected by the social contract as they rightfully should be nor as much as anyone else in America is because they are powerless to change their dismal position is society. They are not truly granted the right to consent to be governed they way they are, because if they were granted this right, they would not be trapped in their miserable positions. Their right to negotiate or to give their input is virtually nonexistent, because even though they may be able to vote, what can voting accomplish when the only candidates they can vote for are not addressing all of what they need to be addressed? How can a political system based on the consent of the governed govern justly or even reasonably while omitting the most desperate needs of so many people? A third party aimed at these currently overlooked but absolutely essential needs would give the lower class the advantage it justly deserves.
The powerless position of the lowest classes is most evident when looking at their income, which is unfairly low, too low to even live off of. Fox news may give its pathetic attempt to disprove this fact, stating that the majority of the “lower class” owns refrigerators, but I must plead that a refrigerator is one thing and the unnecessary burden of stress over how these people are to pay for the food to go in it is another. Of course America is not a third world country and obviously lower class Americans are not starving Ethiopians. However, they are the Americans most deprived of the right to consent to be governed, and it is in the fabric of the Constitution to protect equally this vital right of all, and it is in the nature of the government’s basis to solve the country’s most dire problems, and the lowly state of these Americans protrudes grotesquely when it is taken into consideration how easily this unnecessary suffering could be abolished. Taxes on the wealthiest Americans during the last eight years has dropped due to the Bush tax cuts to thirty-five percent, a cut which has disproportionately favored wealthy Americans and has been a major factor in the government’s now huge debt and the recent economic recession, or depression as labeled by many, which has hit hardest the lowest class. The tax rate on the richest Americans in the nineteen fifties, a whopping ninety percent, allowed for the booming economy and for nearly all Americans to be a part of a very well-off middle class. But the dominating republicans of today, having the power of their money translated into unfair political power, would not let such a tax rate pass over their dead, rotting bodies. However, to mention fox news again, they have led too many Americans into believing that the only unfair taxes today are those not paid. Sadly for this translucent deceit is the fact that the Americans who don’t pay taxes are only those who cannot due mainly to unemployment which has been caused by the bad economy which has been caused mostly by tax cuts on the richest. Because of the lower class’ lack of political power, their arguments against regressive tax rates and excessive tax cuts for the richest can fall only on deaf ears. I am not proposing communism here, merely the deserved and reasonable representation of the people who need it most.
dad and bro - dream
In a dream I sat in calm, quiet gloom,
nearly startled to hear my brother say
from behind a door into my bedroom
in such a maliciously mocking way
our father was dead, he'd killed him today,
sent him to the fate for which he was doomed.
Not a second passed for my weary eyes
to analyze yet a word he'd spoken,
not a second yet for any my cries,
before the door's hinges were then broken.
He had gleefully thrown open the door,
letting our father's body topple in,
and he told me, "Look now, he's dead for sure!
There'll be no more of that stupid grin!"
And I saw the severed back of his head
bloody and perverse, sliding to my feet,
and I sat transfixed and trembling with dread
too petrified to rise now from my seat.
But my mad brother called to me again,
And I rose slowly, silently, softly
supressing fearful screams crying hotly,
and came to my brother calmly again.
He said nothing else of what he had done,
but insisted I weep on his shoulder,
to rid myself of the mourning that'd come,
which I must hide, and simply grow colder.
A phone ring woke me from my sad nightmare,
and I answered to hear my brother speak,
informing me he'd drive me home today,
because our father was feeling too weak.
nearly startled to hear my brother say
from behind a door into my bedroom
in such a maliciously mocking way
our father was dead, he'd killed him today,
sent him to the fate for which he was doomed.
Not a second passed for my weary eyes
to analyze yet a word he'd spoken,
not a second yet for any my cries,
before the door's hinges were then broken.
He had gleefully thrown open the door,
letting our father's body topple in,
and he told me, "Look now, he's dead for sure!
There'll be no more of that stupid grin!"
And I saw the severed back of his head
bloody and perverse, sliding to my feet,
and I sat transfixed and trembling with dread
too petrified to rise now from my seat.
But my mad brother called to me again,
And I rose slowly, silently, softly
supressing fearful screams crying hotly,
and came to my brother calmly again.
He said nothing else of what he had done,
but insisted I weep on his shoulder,
to rid myself of the mourning that'd come,
which I must hide, and simply grow colder.
A phone ring woke me from my sad nightmare,
and I answered to hear my brother speak,
informing me he'd drive me home today,
because our father was feeling too weak.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
passion
Passion everlasting
swims sweetly in my veins
some narcotic, yes it reigns
and beneath it I tremble
quiver in its vapors
descending gently
yet relentlessly
and how I bow to it
passion everlasting
is there no emptiness
my ardent love can fill?
is there not a space
I can envelop?
let seep into it my cherishment?
My sympathy?
My love?
My desire?
My passion everlasting
grandly passing
to blankness satisfaction?
swims sweetly in my veins
some narcotic, yes it reigns
and beneath it I tremble
quiver in its vapors
descending gently
yet relentlessly
and how I bow to it
passion everlasting
is there no emptiness
my ardent love can fill?
is there not a space
I can envelop?
let seep into it my cherishment?
My sympathy?
My love?
My desire?
My passion everlasting
grandly passing
to blankness satisfaction?
Saturday, April 30, 2011
thoughts.
i want to magnify the effects of language. i want to utilize it to amplify every emotion every perception to the exact degree in which it truly exists to myself, so I may share my consciousness with those who may relate, or may percieve a new idea from mine, making it all the more tangible. but what is that for? i wish i could claim my intentions were as pure as they ought to be. but attempting to entertain and enlighten another human being is not merely for the sake of a noble cause, though there does dwell some magnificence in being so moral and thus a proportion of my intentions are pure, yet there is of course the underlying desire to share my perceptions in order to gain the affections of others. and it is but human nature to do so, to want so; i cannot eliminate this vital characteristic of my nature. it is built into my atoms. yet is this not somewhat too denying? we all must see the truth before we can adhere to it. What I mean by that is that you must first decide upon the right decision, based on the facts, before you can make the decision. This applies to the application of philosophy, which is often terribly difficult as it is always strenuous to abruptly alter a consoling, addictive, gluttonous lifestyle, no matter with what palpable and undeniable light the truth, or the philosophy most adherent to the truth, shines. and so if one does see what is truly moral, and that morality is truly the most vital thing, one has taken a step which will eventually lead to the accomplishment of behaving in accordance with the laws of morality. One however may not be one individual though- it rarely is. It is an entity of individials. A society. An entire society gradually does this process, aiming towards becoming always more moral. Of course, American society today can still be viewed upon as being highly immoral, corrupt in its systems, but, even so, the fact that it is percieved as being so immoral even after all of its improvements is a good sign- as more awareness prevails and this awareness leads to further improvements. Perhaps this is all too optimistic and we shall all burn in hell next year.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
leo tolstoy
A man can live and be healthy without killing animals for food; therefore, if he eats meat, he participates in taking animal life merely for the sake of his appetite.
Leo Tolstoy
All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Leo Tolstoy
All violence consists in some people forcing others, under threat of suffering or death, to do what they do not want to do.
Leo Tolstoy
All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.
Leo Tolstoy
And all people live, Not by reason of any care they have for themselves, But by the love for them that is in other people.
Leo Tolstoy
Art is not a handicraft, it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced.
Leo Tolstoy
Boredom: the desire for desires.
Leo Tolstoy
Even in the valley of the shadow of death, two and two do not make six.
Leo Tolstoy
Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.
Leo Tolstoy
Faith is the sense of life, that sense by virtue of which man does not destroy himself, but continues to live on. It is the force whereby we live.
Leo Tolstoy
Government is an association of men who do violence to the rest of us.
Leo Tolstoy
He never chooses an opinion; he just wears whatever happens to be in style.
Leo Tolstoy
Historians are like deaf people who go on answering questions that no one has asked them.
Leo Tolstoy
I sit on a man's back, choking him and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by all possible means - except by getting off his back.
Leo Tolstoy
If so many men, so many minds, certainly so many hearts, so many kinds of love.
Leo Tolstoy
If there existed no external means for dimming their consciences, one-half of the men would at once shoot themselves, because to live contrary to one's reason is a most intolerable state, and all men of our time are in such a state.
Leo Tolstoy
If you want to be happy, be.
Leo Tolstoy
In all history there is no war which was not hatched by the governments, the governments alone, independent of the interests of the people, to whom war is always pernicious even when successful.
Leo Tolstoy
In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.
Leo Tolstoy
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Kingdom_of_God_is_Within_You
Leo Tolstoy
All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Leo Tolstoy
All violence consists in some people forcing others, under threat of suffering or death, to do what they do not want to do.
Leo Tolstoy
All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.
Leo Tolstoy
And all people live, Not by reason of any care they have for themselves, But by the love for them that is in other people.
Leo Tolstoy
Art is not a handicraft, it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced.
Leo Tolstoy
Boredom: the desire for desires.
Leo Tolstoy
Even in the valley of the shadow of death, two and two do not make six.
Leo Tolstoy
Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.
Leo Tolstoy
Faith is the sense of life, that sense by virtue of which man does not destroy himself, but continues to live on. It is the force whereby we live.
Leo Tolstoy
Government is an association of men who do violence to the rest of us.
Leo Tolstoy
He never chooses an opinion; he just wears whatever happens to be in style.
Leo Tolstoy
Historians are like deaf people who go on answering questions that no one has asked them.
Leo Tolstoy
I sit on a man's back, choking him and making him carry me, and yet assure myself and others that I am very sorry for him and wish to ease his lot by all possible means - except by getting off his back.
Leo Tolstoy
If so many men, so many minds, certainly so many hearts, so many kinds of love.
Leo Tolstoy
If there existed no external means for dimming their consciences, one-half of the men would at once shoot themselves, because to live contrary to one's reason is a most intolerable state, and all men of our time are in such a state.
Leo Tolstoy
If you want to be happy, be.
Leo Tolstoy
In all history there is no war which was not hatched by the governments, the governments alone, independent of the interests of the people, to whom war is always pernicious even when successful.
Leo Tolstoy
In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.
Leo Tolstoy
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Kingdom_of_God_is_Within_You
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
sad
When does the daylight wither
vaguely ling'ring on my flesh
wearily to my fingers meshed
slowly away it seeps and slithers.
And as does the noxious night arise
to haunt my melancholy eyes
and, dreary, drench, dismal, the lights
its tumult trembles in my sight.
Have not I been before forlorn
weaving waves of muddled wonder
into my heart so torn asunder
even somber in the day less worn?
Yet morose as is the moon's ascent
plunging pitifully through the clouds
from depths of sad myst'ry it bounds
still matches not my dark descent.
For though is rising the horizon
mirthful in its singing solace
unity in its jubilance
I have no portion of its place.
What cast me from deserve`d light
into the bleak, deserted night
yet my own guilty mind in fright:
fractured mirages in my sight.
vaguely ling'ring on my flesh
wearily to my fingers meshed
slowly away it seeps and slithers.
And as does the noxious night arise
to haunt my melancholy eyes
and, dreary, drench, dismal, the lights
its tumult trembles in my sight.
Have not I been before forlorn
weaving waves of muddled wonder
into my heart so torn asunder
even somber in the day less worn?
Yet morose as is the moon's ascent
plunging pitifully through the clouds
from depths of sad myst'ry it bounds
still matches not my dark descent.
For though is rising the horizon
mirthful in its singing solace
unity in its jubilance
I have no portion of its place.
What cast me from deserve`d light
into the bleak, deserted night
yet my own guilty mind in fright:
fractured mirages in my sight.
Monday, April 11, 2011
DEATH Sweet Death
Sweet Death did murmur in my ear
the felicity of lacking fear
for all the dismal days of drear
that silently, always draw near.
And Death, more charming than alarming,
did cause me to begin disarming
when did he speak of life so noxious
and better he beamed, so sweetly luscious.
Unto the lurking creature, kind,
I spoke, "Of beauty you'll make me blind!
Lest in your ghostly sphere's delight,
Does heaven wait within your light?"
His crystal eyes of dark myst'ry
swiveled closer as though he were quite pleased
And from his lips a clear melody squeezed,
"Follow and your heart shall ease."
Oh, how my soul had melted in rejoice
at this sweet chiming of his lucid voice
juxtaposed to my withering, mortal place,
so decrepit against his everlasting face.
And for a moment paused in time,
I saw no more life's grisly grime
but instead all despair shed so,
the lovely solace with which Death glowed.
As I gazed into his gaunt and grave yet glorious, pale eyes,
I pleaded, "Oh, my love, wane not! Do listen to my cries;
Have I no consolation but you in all my sighs?
Are you not my happy dawn after too many nightmarish nights?"
His pollished, pallid, gentle cheek turned up perplexedly,
And as he peered elatedly he said sweetly unto me,
"Do not you know, my lovely? For you, I'll always be."
And a grin of gleeful love crept across his face for me.
the felicity of lacking fear
for all the dismal days of drear
that silently, always draw near.
And Death, more charming than alarming,
did cause me to begin disarming
when did he speak of life so noxious
and better he beamed, so sweetly luscious.
Unto the lurking creature, kind,
I spoke, "Of beauty you'll make me blind!
Lest in your ghostly sphere's delight,
Does heaven wait within your light?"
His crystal eyes of dark myst'ry
swiveled closer as though he were quite pleased
And from his lips a clear melody squeezed,
"Follow and your heart shall ease."
Oh, how my soul had melted in rejoice
at this sweet chiming of his lucid voice
juxtaposed to my withering, mortal place,
so decrepit against his everlasting face.
And for a moment paused in time,
I saw no more life's grisly grime
but instead all despair shed so,
the lovely solace with which Death glowed.
As I gazed into his gaunt and grave yet glorious, pale eyes,
I pleaded, "Oh, my love, wane not! Do listen to my cries;
Have I no consolation but you in all my sighs?
Are you not my happy dawn after too many nightmarish nights?"
His pollished, pallid, gentle cheek turned up perplexedly,
And as he peered elatedly he said sweetly unto me,
"Do not you know, my lovely? For you, I'll always be."
And a grin of gleeful love crept across his face for me.
divine complexity
There is majesty in the artistry
of each mountain molded mightily
that skyward scrapes at dull delight
by euphoric complexity alight.
Surely obscured are the mechanics
of this world too incomprehensible;
is not the joy of words a mystery greater
than in lines unintelligable?
Certainly the levers bend
not palpable their engineering
For if bliss be by clarity sent
What mystic joy is then worth revering?
Are there no angelic faces
branded on the intricacy
of purely mortal places
that are great divinity encasing?
Infinity must draw the truth-
boundless makes the bounded less
yet does not from true light digress-
vastness does the hungry heart sooth.
But shall the infinite abyss
weep for an enormous loneliness,
then shant the heavens open wide
and let the vacant space in glide?
of each mountain molded mightily
that skyward scrapes at dull delight
by euphoric complexity alight.
Surely obscured are the mechanics
of this world too incomprehensible;
is not the joy of words a mystery greater
than in lines unintelligable?
Certainly the levers bend
not palpable their engineering
For if bliss be by clarity sent
What mystic joy is then worth revering?
Are there no angelic faces
branded on the intricacy
of purely mortal places
that are great divinity encasing?
Infinity must draw the truth-
boundless makes the bounded less
yet does not from true light digress-
vastness does the hungry heart sooth.
But shall the infinite abyss
weep for an enormous loneliness,
then shant the heavens open wide
and let the vacant space in glide?
Time
The ghostly entity, bleak Time,
Reigns master over life,
As when he speaks his words so harsh,
Obedience does blindly march.
Though reasonable and aware, the whole of humankind,
Does stoop unwittingly to serve its lordly Time,
Whose false gifts are shifted to the grave
Too soon and leave but gloom,
And skies alight in flickering glaze
Of Happy do sink too soon.
For see our souls belong to Time,
Who renders us mistakes,
And thrusts us to the filthy grime
From which he so creates.
Yet all our lives we do neglect
His sinister and hollow nature,
For what is there to collect
But an approaching hour's allure?
But the hours are each no more divine-
Does not each with equal potency shine?
Yet see the fool who worships them
And sees not life but solely Time!
Is not this terribly tyrannical king Time
Too often the tumult and melancholy of mankind,
Who waits in patient agony, so solemn for the hour
That, unlike the others, is by some great euphoria so showered?
Yet the hour of his fleeting elation
Is but an hour of all hours
And one hour lasts one's contemplation
Not more than any other,
Each structured with the same complexion
Carved to a brooding glower.
Oh, dreams that Time shall eventually
Grant the sky a new attire-
A cloak stitched in an emerald sheen
To beem brilliantly without retire-
A fantasy so satisfied
By an empty, temporary cloth
Smothering the skies, this guise
Subsides quick as a melting froth.
Reigns master over life,
As when he speaks his words so harsh,
Obedience does blindly march.
Though reasonable and aware, the whole of humankind,
Does stoop unwittingly to serve its lordly Time,
Whose false gifts are shifted to the grave
Too soon and leave but gloom,
And skies alight in flickering glaze
Of Happy do sink too soon.
For see our souls belong to Time,
Who renders us mistakes,
And thrusts us to the filthy grime
From which he so creates.
Yet all our lives we do neglect
His sinister and hollow nature,
For what is there to collect
But an approaching hour's allure?
But the hours are each no more divine-
Does not each with equal potency shine?
Yet see the fool who worships them
And sees not life but solely Time!
Is not this terribly tyrannical king Time
Too often the tumult and melancholy of mankind,
Who waits in patient agony, so solemn for the hour
That, unlike the others, is by some great euphoria so showered?
Yet the hour of his fleeting elation
Is but an hour of all hours
And one hour lasts one's contemplation
Not more than any other,
Each structured with the same complexion
Carved to a brooding glower.
Oh, dreams that Time shall eventually
Grant the sky a new attire-
A cloak stitched in an emerald sheen
To beem brilliantly without retire-
A fantasy so satisfied
By an empty, temporary cloth
Smothering the skies, this guise
Subsides quick as a melting froth.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
comedy in progress- it sucks.
I'm an anarchist and I uh recently joined up with these other anarchists. I think I'm like their leader now.
We decided to abolish taxation by uh protesting it so I've started collecting money from everyone in the group to pay for our protests.
We've been uh trying to gather more anarchists to protest with us but there's been alotta debate about how we're gonna do that. One guy thinks we oughtta like make a website and stuff but this other guy's all "Websites are so governmental. Let's just hang posters up everywhere." Everybody started taking sides and the fighting got real chaotic so I just had to make everyone take a vote. Turns out the most popular method wanted was to
I'm a vegan and not because it's cool. It's like the least coolest thing you can be. I know my brother hates it cuz every time I see him he's like "Let's order a pizza! aah, yeah, nevermind." And then every time we go into the same half-hour conversation about what we're gonna eat, in which I have to pussyfoot around with my stubborness as hidden as I can make it just so I don't piss him off cuz then we wont get any food at all or he'll just go get food without me.. So he always asks "Where ya wanna go?" as if he'll actually listen to my answer. But no matter what restaraunt I say first, he will always say "no" because even though I'm the stubborn one in his eyes, he's actually equally stubborn. So he'll say "Let's go to Subway. They have veggie salads." And every time I have to tell him in addition to me being a vegan, I also hate salads, which really pisses him off. "You're vegan, but you don't like vegetables? What the fuck?"
I really hate people who describe themselves as lovers of music. It's like saying I love money. Or I love sex. I mean, gosh, that just so defines you. It's not like every single person in America has a radio in their car because they actually enjoy listening to music. It's not like every person in America has a job because they actually like having money. And certainly we can ONLY have children because the world needs mooore people! Sex has nnnooothhiing to do with it! Pfffft. How rediculous!
So I recently got this tattoo of a V. No, it doesn't stand for vagina. Stands for vegan. I know what you're thinking, though, and, no, they're not the same thing. Vegans are not only a bit rarer, but they also aren't usually
A lot of people say to me, about my tattoo, "Well what if you ever aren't vegan?"
I've begun answering this every time with the same answer, "I'll take my knife..my tofu cuttin knife..the sharpest one I have..and I'll SLICE it off and fry it in with some chicken legs and I'll eat dat sumbich! That is some gooood meat right there. You see tthis boney rist? It looks boney but it'd be so good." Or I could just continually
I like
My dad was watching Spongebob the other day, laughing his ass off. I thought he might have smoked some of my weed, but, to my dismay, he was totally sober.
Meantime, my 40 year old mother was lying on her heating pad watching a lifetime movie. I hoped she was sober enough to change the channel, but she didn't. Then I'd remembered she'd spent her last penny on the tv, so she was sober.
Me
Batesville. It's a dry county. In Arkansas. Thus you already know its a place run by southern baptists, where, yes, black people and Halloween are obselete and no one can tell you what obsolete means. Fortunately, though, there is a chicken plant in town directly across from the KFC buffet, which seems to indicate that the fragrant scent of dead chickens and chicken feces actually induces hunger. And that white people do actually like fried chicken. Of course, that can't be admitted- "I aint like them niggers"- which is why they can actually have a KFC in Batesville- no anti-racist blacks are gonna be traveling through this predominately racist white trash dump in the middle of the fuckin sticks where they'd sure as hell get lynched if the pointed out "Hey! You like fried chicken, too!" "that thar nigger jest sayd he likes my damned chicken. That's MY chicken Nigger!" Yeah that's some scary shit. But you know what's scarier? Fuckin' Halloween. Now that shit's satanic in Batesville. Unless you wish unto yourself the everlasting condemnation of every baptist in Batesville, don't go trick or treating. And you sure as hell better not be a vegetarian. Now vegan, like me, I'm a vegan, that's different. Nobody in Batesville knows what the fuck a vegan is, so as long as you don't tell them, they'll remain too stupified to actually harass you. Now I have made the mistake of explaining that a vegan is indeed a person who does not purchase any animal products, however, that obviously wasn't specific enough because they still failed to register what it meant. "You don't ayt mayt? What aboyt meelk? You can't leeve without miyulk!"
And now that I live in Little Rock, I can shop at Whole Foods which has like the most variety of foods a vegan can get. Whole Foods, though, really has
High school. It's where you get educated..on how to functiiioooon in societtyyyyyy. For example, how to get drugs., And work ethic. how to get away with doing the least amount of work possible, how to play hooky, how to make gooood chooooices ya know. And nowadays schools are run by people who really, really care about these kids. Why else would they be teaching
So I was in health class the other day- and I'm like the only junior in that class-everybody else is a sophomere so I kina feel like fuckin Billy Madison- well we had a speaker come in talkin to us about drugs and railroad safety type shit. Now I can understand them deterring us from some meth and heroin-that's some scary shit- but I couldn't help but wonder why
I'm a christian and that's kind of a downer. Every time I'm enjoying myself it's like "Shit. Sorry Jesus." Cuz you know if you're religious and happy, somethins fucked up. You aint doin it right.
Another thing about christianity, it is by far the easiest thing to be hypocritical about. Cuz as soon as you get pissed off, you're going against the basis of your religion. And when you're a christian who sees this hypocracy in other christians and THAT pisses you off, then you're REALLY hypocritical. And I tell you a Christian is the fuckin hardest thing to be in the morning. I don't know about you, but I am not a morning person and the second my alarm goes off I'm pissed the fuck off!
It just feels so unfair that God doesn't have to get his ass up in the morning and worry about what the fuck he's gonna eat and how he's gonna pay for it and yet he expects us all to be a bunch a fuckin perfect goody two shoes and not get pissed when we don't have money for food! God doesn't know shit about being a human being- he's so fuckin spoiled to never needing money that he expects us, his VICTIMS, to never need it either! And yes we are his VICTIMS. Or else he wouldn't have made all this suffering bullshit.
And God finds everryy possible way to torment his victims, trust me. For instance, he always makes it so that the weather is just fucking wrong. Like, why can't he make it warm when I get out of the shower and then just kina let it graduuuallly cool off? No, no, he has to make so that as soon as I hop out the shower, I've gotta fuckin freeze to death and it's aaalways either too hot or too cold, and it's just his way of making hell on earth, just to warn us every second that hey, this heat? This heat motherfucker, is nothing. You feel that temperature? Yeah, fucker, that shit's waaay worse in Hell so you bettah fuckin be nice! What an asshole.
Jesus. America.
Facebook. It's heroine for kids. I mean, it's so fucking addictive that kids'll take their cell phones to school and update their status every class period. "IN EnGliSh!! OmGzzzz!! LoLzz!!! i HaaatE this class!!!!!" Shocker.
Texting. It's only fun when you reaaallly like the person you're talking to. Cuz you know, every text message conversation you have is the same goddamned one. "Hey. Hey. Whatsup? Nm u? Nm. Lolz." 30 minutes later. "Hey. Hey. Whatsup? Nm. you? Nm. Lolz." Wow, now that's high quality entertainment. And then you start texting somebody you like, and that's when the fun really starts. When your phone is suddenly bombarded with naked pictures of people who never look like that in real life. But then they ask YOU to "send a sexy pic" And wow that's some pressure. Ya start lookin in the mirror and realize "fuck, this dude would never bang me if he saw me naked in real life. Look at that fat ass! I haven't shaved my legs in three weeks!" so you just take your phone and kina zoom in on your "best features" and bam! Hot porno that doesn't reveal your cellulite. And they'll never have to see your cellulite! Til you actually meet up for sex which is never going to happen because if they really wanted to fuck you they would have called and not texted. Texts are only sent with one goal in mind: immediate porn. And since they're thinkin the same self-conscious shit you are, they realize just how truly shamefully awkward it is to meet up with your text-based lover in real life. Unless the naked picture texts are sent after a relationship has begun and in that case the female must realize that their lover doesn't actually give a fuck about "their relationship" because if he did he'd be with ya in real fuckin life woman, not avoiding everything about you except what he can jerk off to!
Texts are so convenient. Soo much more convenient than having to scroll all through your address book in your cell phone and pressing that damned button that's just so impossible to press- oh my god my finger just cramps on that one button- and then having to wait hours for them to pick up their fuckin phone and oh ever since that caller id shit came into business nobody ever answers my fuckin calls so I'd just have to be callin em all fuckin day cuz you know they aint gonna call back! But a text...now that's how you can get a response. If they dont have to hear your annoying voice and try to pay attention to just what youre sayin and how the fuck you say it and havin to reply right fuckin then, then they will take .5 seconds to glance at your text and not even put forth the effort to imagine the way you would actually say it, they might, if bored as hell enough, send a fuckin one word text back that MIGHT, MIGHT be all the information you need. And seein as how they dislike you enough to only text and never call you, you shouldn't be dependin on them for much more information than that!
Now I like to cook, but I'm not a very good cook, which makes me very greatful for the ease with which a lot of vegan food can be cooked. Well, it's SUPPOSED to be easy. All you have to do is throw those fake chicken nuggets in the oven, right? Just throw those veggie burgers in the skillet? Well, I have OCD. And when I look at those directions, I tend to get..a little too fuckin scrutinous. ...Uh how many veggie burgers can you put in the skillet at once? And how fucking much oil are you supposed to use anyhow?! Fuckin Christ, can't they just be a liiittle more specific? I mean, I don't want my burgers soaking with grease! And I sure as fuck don't want them to burn! SO two tablespoons? Three? What? I can't do this shit! Oh, I start to panic. ESPECIALLY if the directions don't tell me when to turn those fuckers over. Oh, I could NOT handle one side being cooked more thoroughly than the other! And when I put fries in the oven..Now that is a seventy-two minute ordeal in which I must seperate each fry at least half an inch from each other- else some will be soggier than others- and this always seems to end up in making only about ten fries per batch since I REFUSE to make more than one row of fries. THAT would be a disaster! So it ends up taking about two hours to get enough fries cooked for a meal. By that time, I'm stoned as fuck, since you know what are you supposed to do when you're waiting on food that's in the oven? So about half the time I just forget I ever put anything in the oven and when I do remember is only when I start fumbling through the fridge again when my munchies really start to hit me and then I'll fumble across those fries again- which will actually turn out to be an empty bag which I just stuck back in the fridge specifically for this purpose- and "ooh damn, oh yeah! Oh shit theyre burned!" But about eighty-three percent of the time this forgetting technique actually works pretty well, seeing as how I like me some crunchy ass fries. The other seventeen percent of the time...Well, that's why I got the fire dept. on speed dial, right?
We decided to abolish taxation by uh protesting it so I've started collecting money from everyone in the group to pay for our protests.
We've been uh trying to gather more anarchists to protest with us but there's been alotta debate about how we're gonna do that. One guy thinks we oughtta like make a website and stuff but this other guy's all "Websites are so governmental. Let's just hang posters up everywhere." Everybody started taking sides and the fighting got real chaotic so I just had to make everyone take a vote. Turns out the most popular method wanted was to
I'm a vegan and not because it's cool. It's like the least coolest thing you can be. I know my brother hates it cuz every time I see him he's like "Let's order a pizza! aah, yeah, nevermind." And then every time we go into the same half-hour conversation about what we're gonna eat, in which I have to pussyfoot around with my stubborness as hidden as I can make it just so I don't piss him off cuz then we wont get any food at all or he'll just go get food without me.. So he always asks "Where ya wanna go?" as if he'll actually listen to my answer. But no matter what restaraunt I say first, he will always say "no" because even though I'm the stubborn one in his eyes, he's actually equally stubborn. So he'll say "Let's go to Subway. They have veggie salads." And every time I have to tell him in addition to me being a vegan, I also hate salads, which really pisses him off. "You're vegan, but you don't like vegetables? What the fuck?"
I really hate people who describe themselves as lovers of music. It's like saying I love money. Or I love sex. I mean, gosh, that just so defines you. It's not like every single person in America has a radio in their car because they actually enjoy listening to music. It's not like every person in America has a job because they actually like having money. And certainly we can ONLY have children because the world needs mooore people! Sex has nnnooothhiing to do with it! Pfffft. How rediculous!
So I recently got this tattoo of a V. No, it doesn't stand for vagina. Stands for vegan. I know what you're thinking, though, and, no, they're not the same thing. Vegans are not only a bit rarer, but they also aren't usually
A lot of people say to me, about my tattoo, "Well what if you ever aren't vegan?"
I've begun answering this every time with the same answer, "I'll take my knife..my tofu cuttin knife..the sharpest one I have..and I'll SLICE it off and fry it in with some chicken legs and I'll eat dat sumbich! That is some gooood meat right there. You see tthis boney rist? It looks boney but it'd be so good." Or I could just continually
I like
My dad was watching Spongebob the other day, laughing his ass off. I thought he might have smoked some of my weed, but, to my dismay, he was totally sober.
Meantime, my 40 year old mother was lying on her heating pad watching a lifetime movie. I hoped she was sober enough to change the channel, but she didn't. Then I'd remembered she'd spent her last penny on the tv, so she was sober.
Me
Batesville. It's a dry county. In Arkansas. Thus you already know its a place run by southern baptists, where, yes, black people and Halloween are obselete and no one can tell you what obsolete means. Fortunately, though, there is a chicken plant in town directly across from the KFC buffet, which seems to indicate that the fragrant scent of dead chickens and chicken feces actually induces hunger. And that white people do actually like fried chicken. Of course, that can't be admitted- "I aint like them niggers"- which is why they can actually have a KFC in Batesville- no anti-racist blacks are gonna be traveling through this predominately racist white trash dump in the middle of the fuckin sticks where they'd sure as hell get lynched if the pointed out "Hey! You like fried chicken, too!" "that thar nigger jest sayd he likes my damned chicken. That's MY chicken Nigger!" Yeah that's some scary shit. But you know what's scarier? Fuckin' Halloween. Now that shit's satanic in Batesville. Unless you wish unto yourself the everlasting condemnation of every baptist in Batesville, don't go trick or treating. And you sure as hell better not be a vegetarian. Now vegan, like me, I'm a vegan, that's different. Nobody in Batesville knows what the fuck a vegan is, so as long as you don't tell them, they'll remain too stupified to actually harass you. Now I have made the mistake of explaining that a vegan is indeed a person who does not purchase any animal products, however, that obviously wasn't specific enough because they still failed to register what it meant. "You don't ayt mayt? What aboyt meelk? You can't leeve without miyulk!"
And now that I live in Little Rock, I can shop at Whole Foods which has like the most variety of foods a vegan can get. Whole Foods, though, really has
High school. It's where you get educated..on how to functiiioooon in societtyyyyyy. For example, how to get drugs., And work ethic. how to get away with doing the least amount of work possible, how to play hooky, how to make gooood chooooices ya know. And nowadays schools are run by people who really, really care about these kids. Why else would they be teaching
So I was in health class the other day- and I'm like the only junior in that class-everybody else is a sophomere so I kina feel like fuckin Billy Madison- well we had a speaker come in talkin to us about drugs and railroad safety type shit. Now I can understand them deterring us from some meth and heroin-that's some scary shit- but I couldn't help but wonder why
I'm a christian and that's kind of a downer. Every time I'm enjoying myself it's like "Shit. Sorry Jesus." Cuz you know if you're religious and happy, somethins fucked up. You aint doin it right.
Another thing about christianity, it is by far the easiest thing to be hypocritical about. Cuz as soon as you get pissed off, you're going against the basis of your religion. And when you're a christian who sees this hypocracy in other christians and THAT pisses you off, then you're REALLY hypocritical. And I tell you a Christian is the fuckin hardest thing to be in the morning. I don't know about you, but I am not a morning person and the second my alarm goes off I'm pissed the fuck off!
It just feels so unfair that God doesn't have to get his ass up in the morning and worry about what the fuck he's gonna eat and how he's gonna pay for it and yet he expects us all to be a bunch a fuckin perfect goody two shoes and not get pissed when we don't have money for food! God doesn't know shit about being a human being- he's so fuckin spoiled to never needing money that he expects us, his VICTIMS, to never need it either! And yes we are his VICTIMS. Or else he wouldn't have made all this suffering bullshit.
And God finds everryy possible way to torment his victims, trust me. For instance, he always makes it so that the weather is just fucking wrong. Like, why can't he make it warm when I get out of the shower and then just kina let it graduuuallly cool off? No, no, he has to make so that as soon as I hop out the shower, I've gotta fuckin freeze to death and it's aaalways either too hot or too cold, and it's just his way of making hell on earth, just to warn us every second that hey, this heat? This heat motherfucker, is nothing. You feel that temperature? Yeah, fucker, that shit's waaay worse in Hell so you bettah fuckin be nice! What an asshole.
Jesus. America.
Facebook. It's heroine for kids. I mean, it's so fucking addictive that kids'll take their cell phones to school and update their status every class period. "IN EnGliSh!! OmGzzzz!! LoLzz!!! i HaaatE this class!!!!!" Shocker.
Texting. It's only fun when you reaaallly like the person you're talking to. Cuz you know, every text message conversation you have is the same goddamned one. "Hey. Hey. Whatsup? Nm u? Nm. Lolz." 30 minutes later. "Hey. Hey. Whatsup? Nm. you? Nm. Lolz." Wow, now that's high quality entertainment. And then you start texting somebody you like, and that's when the fun really starts. When your phone is suddenly bombarded with naked pictures of people who never look like that in real life. But then they ask YOU to "send a sexy pic" And wow that's some pressure. Ya start lookin in the mirror and realize "fuck, this dude would never bang me if he saw me naked in real life. Look at that fat ass! I haven't shaved my legs in three weeks!" so you just take your phone and kina zoom in on your "best features" and bam! Hot porno that doesn't reveal your cellulite. And they'll never have to see your cellulite! Til you actually meet up for sex which is never going to happen because if they really wanted to fuck you they would have called and not texted. Texts are only sent with one goal in mind: immediate porn. And since they're thinkin the same self-conscious shit you are, they realize just how truly shamefully awkward it is to meet up with your text-based lover in real life. Unless the naked picture texts are sent after a relationship has begun and in that case the female must realize that their lover doesn't actually give a fuck about "their relationship" because if he did he'd be with ya in real fuckin life woman, not avoiding everything about you except what he can jerk off to!
Texts are so convenient. Soo much more convenient than having to scroll all through your address book in your cell phone and pressing that damned button that's just so impossible to press- oh my god my finger just cramps on that one button- and then having to wait hours for them to pick up their fuckin phone and oh ever since that caller id shit came into business nobody ever answers my fuckin calls so I'd just have to be callin em all fuckin day cuz you know they aint gonna call back! But a text...now that's how you can get a response. If they dont have to hear your annoying voice and try to pay attention to just what youre sayin and how the fuck you say it and havin to reply right fuckin then, then they will take .5 seconds to glance at your text and not even put forth the effort to imagine the way you would actually say it, they might, if bored as hell enough, send a fuckin one word text back that MIGHT, MIGHT be all the information you need. And seein as how they dislike you enough to only text and never call you, you shouldn't be dependin on them for much more information than that!
Now I like to cook, but I'm not a very good cook, which makes me very greatful for the ease with which a lot of vegan food can be cooked. Well, it's SUPPOSED to be easy. All you have to do is throw those fake chicken nuggets in the oven, right? Just throw those veggie burgers in the skillet? Well, I have OCD. And when I look at those directions, I tend to get..a little too fuckin scrutinous. ...Uh how many veggie burgers can you put in the skillet at once? And how fucking much oil are you supposed to use anyhow?! Fuckin Christ, can't they just be a liiittle more specific? I mean, I don't want my burgers soaking with grease! And I sure as fuck don't want them to burn! SO two tablespoons? Three? What? I can't do this shit! Oh, I start to panic. ESPECIALLY if the directions don't tell me when to turn those fuckers over. Oh, I could NOT handle one side being cooked more thoroughly than the other! And when I put fries in the oven..Now that is a seventy-two minute ordeal in which I must seperate each fry at least half an inch from each other- else some will be soggier than others- and this always seems to end up in making only about ten fries per batch since I REFUSE to make more than one row of fries. THAT would be a disaster! So it ends up taking about two hours to get enough fries cooked for a meal. By that time, I'm stoned as fuck, since you know what are you supposed to do when you're waiting on food that's in the oven? So about half the time I just forget I ever put anything in the oven and when I do remember is only when I start fumbling through the fridge again when my munchies really start to hit me and then I'll fumble across those fries again- which will actually turn out to be an empty bag which I just stuck back in the fridge specifically for this purpose- and "ooh damn, oh yeah! Oh shit theyre burned!" But about eighty-three percent of the time this forgetting technique actually works pretty well, seeing as how I like me some crunchy ass fries. The other seventeen percent of the time...Well, that's why I got the fire dept. on speed dial, right?
Saturday, March 5, 2011
A day of dreary grim I woke in anxious fret
and greeted light of tint that darkness did collect
and to the depths of dank dark I swept
to realms of demons who for nothing wept
but fluttered in by gems beset
to greet the day of sinister fret.
Their suffocating eyes did rise attending to my whims,
feeding my attention to cajole my flaccid limbs
and birthed in me the dark decree to forever hear my whims
and satisfy them, satisfy them with attention to my limbs.
I rose unto the earthly world, transfixed and so expectant,
my mind so stained by eyes so famed by their fluid drug,
and I saw the earthly world of goodness too devoid
for who was to now at me gaze?
and greeted light of tint that darkness did collect
and to the depths of dank dark I swept
to realms of demons who for nothing wept
but fluttered in by gems beset
to greet the day of sinister fret.
Their suffocating eyes did rise attending to my whims,
feeding my attention to cajole my flaccid limbs
and birthed in me the dark decree to forever hear my whims
and satisfy them, satisfy them with attention to my limbs.
I rose unto the earthly world, transfixed and so expectant,
my mind so stained by eyes so famed by their fluid drug,
and I saw the earthly world of goodness too devoid
for who was to now at me gaze?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Does the moon not bow
Does the moon not bow,
does the sun not rise,
to ever wipe the lonely brow
above any the solemn eyes?
Has never the ocean churned,
nor has a star ever burned,
to kiss the cheek
of the hollowed fiend
that is of vacant lovers dreamed?
does the sun not rise,
to ever wipe the lonely brow
above any the solemn eyes?
Has never the ocean churned,
nor has a star ever burned,
to kiss the cheek
of the hollowed fiend
that is of vacant lovers dreamed?
one and all
One and one and one divide
each with lone his mortal eyes
beholding only forlorn skies
that for mere company do sigh.
One and one and one they wail
each pursuing but a human pair
yet unwitting of each other's thirst
one and one and one disperse.
each with lone his mortal eyes
beholding only forlorn skies
that for mere company do sigh.
One and one and one they wail
each pursuing but a human pair
yet unwitting of each other's thirst
one and one and one disperse.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Greedy People
How do they flee with the sincerity
of a blinded fiend so sadistically
coveting but egregious gluttony
to pervade their stomachs with perjury?
They spring to sieze their avaricious fill,
as launch filthy consolation does it,
whilst mockery of modesty does will
but more desire to cull evermore bits.
Trinkets cajole their malicious eyes so,
beseeching their reaching to only grow,
as does a ghost bombast the luscious lust
for gems twinkling each in secret disgust.
Sycophants to themselves they constitute,
tyrants of shelves and shelves of guilded glee,
which by their views each self only would suit;
for none other could their joys upon lean.
of a blinded fiend so sadistically
coveting but egregious gluttony
to pervade their stomachs with perjury?
They spring to sieze their avaricious fill,
as launch filthy consolation does it,
whilst mockery of modesty does will
but more desire to cull evermore bits.
Trinkets cajole their malicious eyes so,
beseeching their reaching to only grow,
as does a ghost bombast the luscious lust
for gems twinkling each in secret disgust.
Sycophants to themselves they constitute,
tyrants of shelves and shelves of guilded glee,
which by their views each self only would suit;
for none other could their joys upon lean.
act stupid
Frivolity proved fleeting trickery
to dismiss judgment unfairly austere,
for what was bitter earnest bick'ring
with but a view of it construed unclear.
The superfluous whimsicality
ruptured true gravity as intended,
tore asunder pundits' vitality,
but rendered their reputation mended.
to dismiss judgment unfairly austere,
for what was bitter earnest bick'ring
with but a view of it construed unclear.
The superfluous whimsicality
ruptured true gravity as intended,
tore asunder pundits' vitality,
but rendered their reputation mended.
the kingdom fallen
There did once burn
a wonderous want
that never spurned,
nor churned to haunt.
The desire made
a loved palace,
rose not guilded,
sturdy steadfast.
o'er the kingdom
celestial might
ceased no reason,
and paused no light.
Pining pillars
upheld the joy,
formed the shelter,
sinister destroyed.
The gleaming gold
of its two thrones,
ne'er somber held,
nor cold condoned.
Yet some decree,
of higher might,
did so cruelly
defile the light.
The heaven sung
a final hymn,
burly it hung
as it last chimed.
Though did it last,
the melody?
Or was it cast
to wicked sea?
a wonderous want
that never spurned,
nor churned to haunt.
The desire made
a loved palace,
rose not guilded,
sturdy steadfast.
o'er the kingdom
celestial might
ceased no reason,
and paused no light.
Pining pillars
upheld the joy,
formed the shelter,
sinister destroyed.
The gleaming gold
of its two thrones,
ne'er somber held,
nor cold condoned.
Yet some decree,
of higher might,
did so cruelly
defile the light.
The heaven sung
a final hymn,
burly it hung
as it last chimed.
Though did it last,
the melody?
Or was it cast
to wicked sea?
atrophy calamity
Never palpable the atrophy sank
silently striking the atmosphere dank,
As derived of a splendid angel's faulter
did the disaffection prospect blunder.
Tempestuous calamity made cloistered
and restless once reigning happy hoisted,
now barren as aimless, amorphous sky
whose temerity wayward throws cold cries.
And though now by no elated reason
the abyss that yields to no true season
still sighs for its devoid, hollow garden
that once had every atom regarded.
silently striking the atmosphere dank,
As derived of a splendid angel's faulter
did the disaffection prospect blunder.
Tempestuous calamity made cloistered
and restless once reigning happy hoisted,
now barren as aimless, amorphous sky
whose temerity wayward throws cold cries.
And though now by no elated reason
the abyss that yields to no true season
still sighs for its devoid, hollow garden
that once had every atom regarded.
Misfortune Atones Fantasy
Over churning hapless waters turgid
does furiously tread my servile heart,
lamentable its arduous bargain
does fetter not misfortune to depart.
For what is by the disposition culled
yet the mitigation of tranquil light,
its meager fastidiousness too dulled
to incur its quixotic dreams' full flight.
Had the fantasy less erratic beamed
perchance the earth would have it so esteemed,
Yet does the effusive vagary gush
o'er its own hearth too swiftly does it rush.
does furiously tread my servile heart,
lamentable its arduous bargain
does fetter not misfortune to depart.
For what is by the disposition culled
yet the mitigation of tranquil light,
its meager fastidiousness too dulled
to incur its quixotic dreams' full flight.
Had the fantasy less erratic beamed
perchance the earth would have it so esteemed,
Yet does the effusive vagary gush
o'er its own hearth too swiftly does it rush.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Paucity
Grievously impotent now is the soul,
as despairingly ambitious its task
implored upon him to reap such a toll,
that altogether would him outlast.
His endeavers waned so decrepitly,
that never did consummation approach;
fell upon him callous defiancy,
to further upon paucity encroach.
as despairingly ambitious its task
implored upon him to reap such a toll,
that altogether would him outlast.
His endeavers waned so decrepitly,
that never did consummation approach;
fell upon him callous defiancy,
to further upon paucity encroach.
curse
The curse did relentlessly disparage
the once consistently prevalent mirage
which had greatly luminously governed
every mirthful life of happy mothered.
Now see the air's been tainted capricious,
its nature chaos painted pernicious;
all sacred blessings evaporated
when by crass doom was fate saturated.
The curse befell too mercurially
for concern to flow immediately,
though had the trepidation sooner shot,
would not have mightier our fancies' fought?
the once consistently prevalent mirage
which had greatly luminously governed
every mirthful life of happy mothered.
Now see the air's been tainted capricious,
its nature chaos painted pernicious;
all sacred blessings evaporated
when by crass doom was fate saturated.
The curse befell too mercurially
for concern to flow immediately,
though had the trepidation sooner shot,
would not have mightier our fancies' fought?
woman
The woman is of airy nature,
what has she to offer?
Her stance is one of little stature,
is not her mind much softer?
Her cheek is much too apt to linger,
while what remains of her integrity?
Her lusty docile does but want trigger,
but what is projected of her mind's vitality?
Yet she vitiates the vanity
of such trivial complacency
when does her deluge of words
encompass more than her vision affords.
what has she to offer?
Her stance is one of little stature,
is not her mind much softer?
Her cheek is much too apt to linger,
while what remains of her integrity?
Her lusty docile does but want trigger,
but what is projected of her mind's vitality?
Yet she vitiates the vanity
of such trivial complacency
when does her deluge of words
encompass more than her vision affords.
consecration versus fear
my vision clamors to capture
the light of harmony, ever clear,
stirring in the midst of calamity,
which threatens to plunder the splendor near.
But what does singe the vivid streaks
of mighty, celestial consecration,
but fear of the trammeling the splendor's heat
as always looming is potential of defeat.
the light of harmony, ever clear,
stirring in the midst of calamity,
which threatens to plunder the splendor near.
But what does singe the vivid streaks
of mighty, celestial consecration,
but fear of the trammeling the splendor's heat
as always looming is potential of defeat.
fooey
Perception bred of rigid consciousness,
conivictions bore of consoling sterness,
conceptions of required sturdiness,
condition the burly to readiness.
conivictions bore of consoling sterness,
conceptions of required sturdiness,
condition the burly to readiness.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Night..
The howling, thundering, brutal, bold night,
trecherously falling to sleigh sunbeams,
molests, with each arctic breeze, sound and sight,
morphing them into crude,sinister fiends.
The morose, melancholy, morbid moon,
slithering through hazy, gusty, dark fog,
does swim and drown and resurface again,
in a ballet that weaves through the cold smog.
trecherously falling to sleigh sunbeams,
molests, with each arctic breeze, sound and sight,
morphing them into crude,sinister fiends.
The morose, melancholy, morbid moon,
slithering through hazy, gusty, dark fog,
does swim and drown and resurface again,
in a ballet that weaves through the cold smog.
Lusted famed
Lustfully, the eyes do swivel closer,
for compellingly some marvel has beemed,
cajoling so to, its triumph, bolster,
securing the eyes so its flaws are cleaned.
For when does the famed bear blemishes,
but never when does it live for lone lust,
and fame never shall permit skirmishes
lest its utter essence but melt or burst.
for compellingly some marvel has beemed,
cajoling so to, its triumph, bolster,
securing the eyes so its flaws are cleaned.
For when does the famed bear blemishes,
but never when does it live for lone lust,
and fame never shall permit skirmishes
lest its utter essence but melt or burst.
song of the lonesome
My baffled heart, singing its sordid wail,
has folded now, clinging lone to itself,
for when its curiousity does gleam,
so shall its vulnerability teem.
Anxious,desperate, my isolated soul
bellows in agony to be beheld
by any a heart who might its pain quell,
any soul to shatter the barrier shell.
has folded now, clinging lone to itself,
for when its curiousity does gleam,
so shall its vulnerability teem.
Anxious,desperate, my isolated soul
bellows in agony to be beheld
by any a heart who might its pain quell,
any soul to shatter the barrier shell.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Starlight-edited into sonnet + some more
Could, for my sun, not a thing compensate,
for what ever is else is lone irate;
There's not a ray of jubilance righteous
aside from mine but a hindrance, heinous.
A sky void of the vital star of mine
is a sky plagued by bleak, desolate time,
for what is there if not my esteemed saint,
but absence lest looms there a tumor, a taint.
A dawn to dusk barren of my luster
can nothing be but a somber shutter.
For what is lord and does all splendor make
but mine and if not, by time shall it break.
To cradle what has not from my heart flown
Equates to embracing some brittle bone
As ghostly as the bitter potential
That threatens to pillage my dearly essential.
My breaths, my seconds I only exhaust
For the sunlight for which my rev'rence bursts,
To which every pulsing morsel of my life
I beg be given without any cruel strife.
My gleaming gem glows so gloriously,
my eyes yearn its vision imperiously,
as my sight does crave ever strenuously
my light's each detail shining sumptuously.
So revered does my darling starlight thrive,
what does plunder its hours outside my hive,
but sheer fear eating my nervous flesh live,
impris'ning my heart to for lone me strive.
Should the weather ever tether my love,
should perish the divinity I clutch,
should flee from my grapple my dazzling dove,
the termination of elation would be such.
for what ever is else is lone irate;
There's not a ray of jubilance righteous
aside from mine but a hindrance, heinous.
A sky void of the vital star of mine
is a sky plagued by bleak, desolate time,
for what is there if not my esteemed saint,
but absence lest looms there a tumor, a taint.
A dawn to dusk barren of my luster
can nothing be but a somber shutter.
For what is lord and does all splendor make
but mine and if not, by time shall it break.
To cradle what has not from my heart flown
Equates to embracing some brittle bone
As ghostly as the bitter potential
That threatens to pillage my dearly essential.
My breaths, my seconds I only exhaust
For the sunlight for which my rev'rence bursts,
To which every pulsing morsel of my life
I beg be given without any cruel strife.
My gleaming gem glows so gloriously,
my eyes yearn its vision imperiously,
as my sight does crave ever strenuously
my light's each detail shining sumptuously.
So revered does my darling starlight thrive,
what does plunder its hours outside my hive,
but sheer fear eating my nervous flesh live,
impris'ning my heart to for lone me strive.
Should the weather ever tether my love,
should perish the divinity I clutch,
should flee from my grapple my dazzling dove,
the termination of elation would be such.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
You
Wedge into that evil mask,
obfuscate your monstrosity;
hide your ugliness and ask
how ever could you decieve?
Parade around in false vanity,
for though by ignorance are you reigned,
surely have you the sanity
to know your true potential proclaimed?
And measely chance that there is much,
considering your treasonous poison;
Your lechery infects too much,
your cruel tricks stem without reason.
obfuscate your monstrosity;
hide your ugliness and ask
how ever could you decieve?
Parade around in false vanity,
for though by ignorance are you reigned,
surely have you the sanity
to know your true potential proclaimed?
And measely chance that there is much,
considering your treasonous poison;
Your lechery infects too much,
your cruel tricks stem without reason.
Cherishment < / 3
Cherishment I generously granted for my gem;
twas charity that sent my heart unto its every whim.
And dashing, dancing, galloping, my attentive adoration,
did swerve not once in all its jumps to reach the consternation.
But curtains rose to show the glows of growing obligation;
for twas not my treasure that did call as it was but my coming fall.
Oh, the fiendish beauty giggled for my foolish naivety,
for I had not seen my cherishing in any its braverity.
twas charity that sent my heart unto its every whim.
And dashing, dancing, galloping, my attentive adoration,
did swerve not once in all its jumps to reach the consternation.
But curtains rose to show the glows of growing obligation;
for twas not my treasure that did call as it was but my coming fall.
Oh, the fiendish beauty giggled for my foolish naivety,
for I had not seen my cherishing in any its braverity.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Seconds, seconds, seconds...
The seconds each breed for themselves great anticipation for so long, with such intense anxiety, merely to be vanquished, evaporating instantaneously. Each clamor of the clock's hands, each miniscule tremor that does sieze one of them, is the very epitome of dismay, for where so quickly did that second in which that quiver manifested itself depart? The moment discintigrated without hesitation and without warning, and the moment is always, always gone. For when does a second last more than a second? No second radiates more fulfillment than any other; all seconds are perfectly equal in their hollow architecture, their imminence, their inevitable, rapid leave. And, oh, tell me that second was not birthed in vain nor did it seep into the abyss of nothingness that is its perishing in vain- surely it was not of any lesser significance than any other second, now was it? Oh, tell me the death was not waved off, neglected, brushed into the oblivion one does imagine, and thus establish, making alive this place of nonexistance, so that nothing is something.
How long must one second gravely bare its burden of waiting? How long must a second wait to be stemmed by another's death- for how long must a second endure the guilt of knowing so many other seconds must die for it to exist- for it to be born? How long must a second worry for its own death? For only a second? Or for every second that must die before it as well? This line of seconds is neverending; death is neverending. Rebirth is neverending. The cycle is of pain and joy so long as the seconds' existance is celebrated, so long as the seconds' deceasing is not halted.
How long must one second gravely bare its burden of waiting? How long must a second wait to be stemmed by another's death- for how long must a second endure the guilt of knowing so many other seconds must die for it to exist- for it to be born? How long must a second worry for its own death? For only a second? Or for every second that must die before it as well? This line of seconds is neverending; death is neverending. Rebirth is neverending. The cycle is of pain and joy so long as the seconds' existance is celebrated, so long as the seconds' deceasing is not halted.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
I am a rag
I am but a wethered rag
seething in my rage
for when there is another rag
still my employment is engaged.
Scrub my face into the grime
that did not come from me,
Scrape my wrinkles all the time
to make not myself clean.
Crumple me and soak me now
in your murky water til I drown.
Until again I am revived
and again I'll grimly frown.
seething in my rage
for when there is another rag
still my employment is engaged.
Scrub my face into the grime
that did not come from me,
Scrape my wrinkles all the time
to make not myself clean.
Crumple me and soak me now
in your murky water til I drown.
Until again I am revived
and again I'll grimly frown.
{...
Detachment gradually seeps beneath the eyelids whose gaze is twisted into percieving all that was once so lauded now in a light uncanny in its ability to ascertain the bitterness bore of the dismal and bleak absence of legitimate significance. The eyes flutter only to permit the mind to administer to itself its vital dosage of what must indeed be reality, and reality is without hope, without exaltation, without the radiance it once so beamed with and granted life meaning with. What catalyzed this despairing, morbid conversion? What wrested life's beauty and, in turn, the prizes of gratitude and astonishment for that now extinct but once thriving, intricate artistry?
The touch of another..had been the most astounding ecstasy. Its utter magic had cajoled the expectancy for its constant repetition and for it to incite only more enormous enthusiasm each moment it would again happen. Though withered has not only the expectancy become, but the joy as well. The anticipation fell as did the occurences, and the elation perished next for the fret that getting one's hopes up yet again would prove as virulent a mistake as it had before, for it must now certainly be recognized that everything is eventually terminated or does slowly discintigrate, and when the end appears, when the start and the middle have decayed and it is plain the speed at which all is dying cannot by any means be reversed nor paused, one must face the loss of their elation's source, and such a despairing task can have its difficulty diminished only by one having recieved less joy from the source.
The touch of another..had been the most astounding ecstasy. Its utter magic had cajoled the expectancy for its constant repetition and for it to incite only more enormous enthusiasm each moment it would again happen. Though withered has not only the expectancy become, but the joy as well. The anticipation fell as did the occurences, and the elation perished next for the fret that getting one's hopes up yet again would prove as virulent a mistake as it had before, for it must now certainly be recognized that everything is eventually terminated or does slowly discintigrate, and when the end appears, when the start and the middle have decayed and it is plain the speed at which all is dying cannot by any means be reversed nor paused, one must face the loss of their elation's source, and such a despairing task can have its difficulty diminished only by one having recieved less joy from the source.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Yeah, stupid, whatever, too wordy
I. As the silhouettes of the meek, gently sloping hills were birthed when the sun had stemmed from the depths of what could have only been pandora’s box, their outlines merged across the pure sky whose whimsical blue had been weathered and eventually dismantled by the emergence of sunbeams that had claimed for the air a new color, a mesmerizing, sizzling yellow that had foreshadowed next the arrival of the king that was the sun, and it had floated up in a divine levitation to address its kingdom that was Earth. All the while, the stunted pinnacles of each hill were blurred and molded this way and that as the light beams were indecisive artists.
Beneath the ascending sun, this horizon seemed to quiver and pulsate in expectant anticipation of some sudden release of eccentric exhilaration that would strike the atmosphere with no less subtlety than a strong puncture being administered quickly into a delicate shard of glass, inducing intense fractures that would cleave the glass into a myriad of fragments. But no such abruption of energy was to seize or manipulate any fraction of the cloudless sky. Though lacking such a rapidly bestown dosage of surging enthrallment, the abyss of pastel blue blotched by vibrant yellow that consumed, with the hunger of a fervent wildfire, every particle not somehow bonded with the earth, invaded one’s senses and rejuvenated them in some ritual of rebirthing that does inevitably capture one upon the obtaining of the satisfaction that accompanies the embracing of a final decision, the decision to dismiss the temptation of sleep and, with great courage and determination and optimism, to immerse one’s self utterly into the rhythm of reality and the melody of familiarity, its unrelenting but often consoling consistency as durable and soothing as the certainty that another wave will always collapse upon and be dissolved into oblivion by the ocean’s shore, forever and without any hesitation from which the ignition of doubtfulness could originate.
Beneath the ascending sun, this horizon seemed to quiver and pulsate in expectant anticipation of some sudden release of eccentric exhilaration that would strike the atmosphere with no less subtlety than a strong puncture being administered quickly into a delicate shard of glass, inducing intense fractures that would cleave the glass into a myriad of fragments. But no such abruption of energy was to seize or manipulate any fraction of the cloudless sky. Though lacking such a rapidly bestown dosage of surging enthrallment, the abyss of pastel blue blotched by vibrant yellow that consumed, with the hunger of a fervent wildfire, every particle not somehow bonded with the earth, invaded one’s senses and rejuvenated them in some ritual of rebirthing that does inevitably capture one upon the obtaining of the satisfaction that accompanies the embracing of a final decision, the decision to dismiss the temptation of sleep and, with great courage and determination and optimism, to immerse one’s self utterly into the rhythm of reality and the melody of familiarity, its unrelenting but often consoling consistency as durable and soothing as the certainty that another wave will always collapse upon and be dissolved into oblivion by the ocean’s shore, forever and without any hesitation from which the ignition of doubtfulness could originate.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Liarrrr
Oh, how fucking humorous. The rapid rate, treacherously flaming in a virulent pace that intends to approach no less than the grimy, ghastly face ablaze of Satan's poisionous lechery, the deceitful malace that twists and contorts and ultimately renders all that reigns in divine glory a distortion, a smirking mirage of disillusion, all for the sake of worshipping one's ego, for one who yearns to weave the religion that lauds and wails the precious songs of sacred exaltation for one's self and one's self alone; for one whose might quivers beneath no king and bends for no authority but that one's own; for one who yields to no law but that which was founded on that one's terms, terms which endeavor to construct no shelter nor gratitude for any other but that one; for one who carves pillars of caniving enthusiasm on which their own sacred wishes, but no others' may rest; for one who clutches to their heart no gems but those which compose their own pleasure and beseech no granting of pleasure unto any other, is the one who molds the path by which the glory of righteousness and mercy are sped down til terminated in the eyes of any audience unwitting of the origination of the righteousness as it is morphed by some demonic mirror into a scathing portrait of maniacal irony, the apex of its core's very opposition, blinding in its decieving viel of malicious darkness, whose depths appear, to the anxious onlooker, ever shallow as is the lust of the architect responsible for the betrayl.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
deceit
The viel of Satan looms
over gritty, ugly fumes,
the vapors of the malicious,
neath the canopy ever vicious.
The painting, in sacred intensity,
does dispell eccentric sensitivity,
as the allure cannot a horror bear;
what but charm does the vision wear?
Jovially does the beholder
of the falsity fall so,
unwitting of the kindling
of for him eternal woe,
as while the seeping starlight
does bend the lines of reason,
beneath the singing sight
is a triumphant treason.
over gritty, ugly fumes,
the vapors of the malicious,
neath the canopy ever vicious.
The painting, in sacred intensity,
does dispell eccentric sensitivity,
as the allure cannot a horror bear;
what but charm does the vision wear?
Jovially does the beholder
of the falsity fall so,
unwitting of the kindling
of for him eternal woe,
as while the seeping starlight
does bend the lines of reason,
beneath the singing sight
is a triumphant treason.
Friday, January 14, 2011
to crystallize the second
Does one always endeaver
to crystallize the second?
To clutch the clock's rapid hands
and fixate upon the moment?
And marvel at its gleaming craft,
the pattern of its puzzle,
why cannot one dismiss time's grasp
and against the stillness nuzzle?
If one could savor eternity
in one second of one day,
if one could wrest the fertility
of life with time tossed so away,
could not the bewitching glory
of the sullen silence of pure existance
clean of the ticking folly
of seconds consistent in persistance
uncloak the anguish of life,
dismiss its degredation,
restore the vivaciousness of youth,
revive the affirmation
of consecration?
to crystallize the second?
To clutch the clock's rapid hands
and fixate upon the moment?
And marvel at its gleaming craft,
the pattern of its puzzle,
why cannot one dismiss time's grasp
and against the stillness nuzzle?
If one could savor eternity
in one second of one day,
if one could wrest the fertility
of life with time tossed so away,
could not the bewitching glory
of the sullen silence of pure existance
clean of the ticking folly
of seconds consistent in persistance
uncloak the anguish of life,
dismiss its degredation,
restore the vivaciousness of youth,
revive the affirmation
of consecration?
Innocent love
Eerie is the tune of love,
too unpredictable a haven,
and striking and quick as the cherished dove,
but ugly and fiesty as the raven.
Its melody is murmured, muffled,
resonating in the ears of youth,
and these ears of disillusion shuffle
the truth of inevitable rebuke.
The pure and expecting mentality
nurtures a notion too naive,
beholds a love eternally
too innocent by all means.
Exquisite may be the hearth constructed
in minds with no fantasy constricted,
though what does cleave the treasured dream,
but lone growing age so it would seem.
too unpredictable a haven,
and striking and quick as the cherished dove,
but ugly and fiesty as the raven.
Its melody is murmured, muffled,
resonating in the ears of youth,
and these ears of disillusion shuffle
the truth of inevitable rebuke.
The pure and expecting mentality
nurtures a notion too naive,
beholds a love eternally
too innocent by all means.
Exquisite may be the hearth constructed
in minds with no fantasy constricted,
though what does cleave the treasured dream,
but lone growing age so it would seem.
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