A Modern Rumination

When I discarded my religion,
I found a world that I’d been missing
Already in motion
Without my conscious participation.
Simultaneously, I couldn’t help noticing
The blandness of modern humans
Chasing superficial pleasures
As though nothing else exists.
The abandonment of false purpose
Both liberates and destroys,
A hollow heart hurts to carry
But has capacity to be filled.
Values like certainty and purity
Are irreplaceable once they’re gone,
Vitality and wisdom
Filling in to hold their shape.
There’s a whole horizon to fall into,
An endless void of discordance
To construct, reflect, and internalize,
A perpetual stream of absurd meanings.
There’s no clear answer,
No guarantee of another life,
No genuine good or evil,
But there are endless things to analyze.

The Paragon Of Human

Truth, love, and beauty;

Passion, lust, and touch;

Sensitivity to sensation

And paranoid towards trust.

Entertaining daydreams

Like therapy with dolls

With such awoken eyes

Searching for the cause.

The ends and the extremes

Blend and balance well

With the overactive mind

Imprisoned in its shell.

From lofty declaration

To the bitterest debate,

Through endless troubled minds

And self-deceitful hate

Are woven little strings;

Patterns evermore complex

Down crevices of ecstasy

And mountains of distress.

The paragon of Being

Human always more or less

In chaos everlasting

Till blissful stateless death.

Burning or cradling,

Tender or rough,

Knowledge and wisdom,

Too little or too much.

One without another

Like everything is not,

As love is to lust

What gotten is to got.

And yet,

I wish you well

Please feel better

Keep me warm

Kiss me deep

Fall asleep

Let it go

Stress no more.

 

 

Streaming Life Anywhere

Judging value

In indiscriminate measure

Through the process

Of identifying constants

Amid variable personas.

Chaotic babble

Interwoven with emotions

Clouding personallities

In insepid debate

Signifying little.

Introspective hell

Latching onto safe platforms

Expressing the darkest depths

Of existential dread

In idle whispers.

Entertainment

Like an inconvenient memory

Signaling dire warnings

As questionable information

Presents itself in lace.

Daydreaming watchers

Wondering within access

On the possible implications

Of life on Mars

Or anywhere.

Complexity breeds

As simplifying destroys.

Any and all answers

Wither on

Or grow away.

Do We Still See?

I’m afraid for us,

That your passions have made you passionless

And your blistering avidity for life makes you blinded

The goals and ambitions so tangible in your heart

But the obsession diminishes your perception

Things you used to love fall behind.

I can remember,

The ideas and predilections that once defined you

And the potential conceptions half conceived

When settling into a niche seemed unbearably futile

But we imagined for ourselves endless possibilities

If life were but a stage as we believed.

Do you believe?

That life’s confinements shackle you to this specialty?

That to overcome your demons you must succeed?

Perhaps the struggle to overcome defeats the purpose

Or maybe you’re just not as cynical as me.

When curtains close, we’ll sow as has been reaped.

 

 

 

 

A Brief Summation Of Feelings

I feel tired, worn out, and exhausted.

Ageing faster than my mind is maturing.

Unceasing stimuli of sporadic thought,

Insomnia, sleepless daydreams occurring.

I feel drugged, comatose and stupid.

Staring endlessly, seeing nothing outside.

Contemplations rearranging my perceptions,

Creating illusions and epiphanies I must abide.

I feel thoughtful, diligent and wise.

Evaluating and measuring all intuition.

Life examined, dissected and simplified,

Knowing the rhyme and reason of decision.

I feel angry, agitated, and upset.

To be known, disregarded or misunderstood.

Inconvenient, unrealized, undesired,

Willing, but unable to slow if I could.

I feel like friends and family ignore me,

Avoid me for the sake of comfort and peace.

I feel like they cannot acknowledge,

I know them better , and my intuition won’t sleep.

I feel Isolated,

I feel like talking to you and hanging out because I’m Isolated,

I feel like talking to you and hanging out for three hours then going home so I can be Isolated.

I feel like I want to be with you,

I feel like I miss you and that we should never be together.

I feel like it’s a missed chance,

I feel like I’m glad we missed it, we’re better off,

But I still miss you.

I feel like there’s nothing to say,

Like you’ll see what I mean when I’m ready.

Like I’ve been waiting a long time, growing and changing,

And you’ll soon see what I’ve created.

I feel like heartache,

Like if I wasn’t so cold I’d be bleeding,

If I hadn’t been numbed at such a young age,

Like I would be helpless and bleating.

I feel untouchable,

Like it’s almost too late for me to ever feel vulnerable,…

 

I feel love for you,

And I’m not cruel enough to dismiss it.

If I suffer for you,

I can’t complain for forgiveness.

If you suffer for me, I promise not to forget it.

Twenty-Four, – 01/27

Twenty-four years,

Violence, sadness, life and love.

Enough memory to replay another twenty-four.

Time wasted, time lasted, time spent sublime.

Twenty-four years, and what was it for?

Ten years ago I died my hair black,

I remade myself to become my ambition.

Twelve years ago I made it back home,

from foster care where the youths go as prisons.

Fifteen years since I lived in the west,

In the American desert where religion seduced us.

Eighteen years since we moved to that place,

Since the first time I ever laid eyes on the mountains.

Twenty years now since my mother and I,

Lived together alone inside an apartment.

Twenty-four years to the day in which she,

Brought me to life so this list could be started.

The average lifespan of a man from before,

Before they had learned to last any longer.

As young as I feel, I quite frankly feel old.

There’s times I feel drained, though I’ve never been stronger.

I think I’ll be fine and my life will improve.

As long as I’m asking myself what it’s for.

I’m old and I’m young and I’m anxious to see,

What happens should I live the next twenty-four.

Baby Brain

Reflections, and imaginary conversations

Close fitting clothes and coffee in a warm place

Daydreams unending, continuing over days

Alone in my head, talking to you.

Confessing my feelings, my thoughts and desires

Living out my fantasies and my fears

Opening up to you and to myself

Without even needing you to be here.

So vivid sometimes I can’t sleep,

So potent sometimes I can’t think,

When it’s you and me and no one else

And it’s really only just me.

It’s a need and an addiction

A substitute for intimacy

A safe-space for my emotions

Where only I could really hurt me.

My sensitivities are brought to surface

My fragile ego realizes it’s pains

My weaknesses and repressions, illuminate

And I see through my baby-brain.

It’s me and you at you-know-where

We’re playing freely without care

We’re pretending, so we can feel

Like Disney-land is really real.