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| august 2015 |
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| Luck | 3:23pm tuesday, 25th august |
Everything happened because it was logical for those things to happen. Nothing ever happened that was not logical to happen because that was the way that things worked. Aught were taken for granted because of that, enough so that they said that this universe was inevitable, and all you needed really was particles and luck. No one ever wondered if logic itself was inevitable. Far from compelled to happen was it the whole history of things, which at times one could believe as if it all were written way back when, in the tiniest fluctuations of the original particle party, the Big Bang. But as the scientist posit that there might be places where the laws of physics are different, they think not of a place where nothing works at all, yet things still "happen". What might be thought of as the primordial chaos, in more than one mythology. They think not of whence the origin of logic itself, within which cause and effect may have meaning, wherein their equations function. They posit an infinity of universes where everything that can happen, does. They think not of an infinite of universes where nothing works at all in any of them. What are the odds, now, those of the particles and luck variety, when I envision an infinite number of universes where there is nothing but chaos, and this one, where everything works? Tell me why your model is more valid, because methinks you missed something. There is no such thing as luck.
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| oblivion | 8:52pm friday, 14th august |
the patron saint of oblivion
twirled zero cigarettes on each fingertip
with shadows scampering around the edge of existence
there is a list of things i have not yet done
wallowing in the limpid pool of lesser importance
they sit there and stare at me, and wait
growing more eyes as they brood
time is not an illusion, for change is real
distance i have dreamed makes me small like hope
and sometimes i am the dream of myself
like the smoke of prayer ascending to heaven
i breathe fire in its imaginary state
awaiting the Judgment in constant apology
sometimes disgusted by how much i actually believe
to light a candle and careful of its metaphor
how could it all make such blinding sense?
as ancient crimes still cry out from the earth
what have i trapped behind these eyes?
here i am, watching the crows make a murder
here i am, diving into my head armed with sarcasm
here i am, waking up as the dream slips away
hell never thought someone could figure it out
how to punch a hole into eternity
and i follow, out of all dreaming
where every action is a beginning
the engines of heaven where light is forged
i have given my soul to its proper owner
and i burned in love till only love remained
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| the breeze | 1:51am thursday, 6th august |
i find what moves me is the night coursing through my blood
the elixir, night, from vials where dreams are distilled
i find i feel naked without my chains, wandering on purpose
and the dreaming drags at my heels, me without my wings
the wind blows about voices which all miss my exact verbiage
so much sadness, pools about to burst in the house of wisdom
i have seen love come from out of nowhere, hope unheeding
even as the rocket's red glare blinded me of anything else
sometimes to crawl out of one's skin, momentarily nonexistent
until the moment when you meet yourself in the vast void
how cruel is the mirror to display whatever truth, how kind
there is power in the desire to be alone, mostly untapped
time as if unreal when no one shares the spaces in between
i have desired to taste the fire out of which desire seeks
and dreaming: it is to touch the world through the ether
have i understood not that innocence is infinite till lost?
the end of the world to be spectacular, unless it's yourself
i know where i will be when the sky splits open: flying
for fear is merely not to understand where reality ends
even the darkest of horrors can be approached with kindness
and where have i been to know the secrets of the changing?
i to forget myself when asked to lead down the path i blazed
only to be whole when without the self, except the humor
love i have experienced as a gentle breeze... that knew me
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