Momentary Introspection

perhaps i need a pointed slap in the face
rambling on in these fits of dolor
shameful displays of vulgar isolationist privilege
my natural state is one of positivity and emotional support
found when i consider others
but once i turn the looking glass inward
my world turns on its head
its dormant horrors readily fall from my cryptic thoughts
despite my adamant belief
that i am of a circumstance no worse than others
in fact, i live by the belief
that other’s plights eclipse my own
i feel like such a wretched child
parading about in all my pain
which might serve to allay my suffering
but i do fear i’ve crossed the line
this is not a plea nor pander
it is a fleeting flight of ponder
likely, soon found tucked away
obscured by thoughts effusive

 

[image credit:  John Bauer]

Universal Truth

The universe has once again flourished in my consciousness.  Knowledge of my own existence and that of the world around me becomes my reality.  There are many things, infinite things for which i feel fear and unknowing.  Life persists and time is imminent.  I am helpless to anything other than surrender to its insistence.

In spite of the anguished plight of each individual’s existence, i feel the warm energy of assurance and comfort radiate throughout my entire being.  An understanding that all that has been, all that will be, and all that is, shall be okay.

The singularity of time and truth looms above.  Not as a harbinger of sorrow but as the sun, infusing all with its golden beams of love.  Doting on each and every one of us with buzzing motes of life’s exquisite mystery.  Anything within and beyond our comprehension may take place at any given moment.

Just as we are here so shall we be gone.  As those that are gone are here, surrounding us with their love and granting us stay.  Their existence continues in all realms.  The love that permeates throughout the varied instances of our day speaks of this divine truth.

This understanding brings hope.  The love we all share brings hope.  Hope is the understanding that although we have no possible way of knowing what things may come, we refuse to let the fear of the unknown tarnish our weary hearts.  For we know that things will be okay.

Knowing that regardless of the surreality of reality and all things contained therein will happen as they will.  And this is okay.

Every moment we have ever experienced.  Every treasured memory   Every misplaced memento that wanders throughout our subconscious as the fuel that feeds the fire of our dreams.  Every brief moment of perfect happiness that so fleetingly dashed across our life’s landscape.  Every first beholding of love that was previously unknown to our conscious minds.  All of these exist in this very moment.

When we gaze upon the open sky of umbrage we are overcome with a sense of wonder and awe.  As we glance upon the very particles that compose our own existence in physical and ethereal form.  The true essence of everything in every temporal tense of existence.

That truth is love.

 

 

 

[image credit: Chesley Bonestell]

Flat-Screens and Powdered Milk x8

These are the Sundays of dolor and dinge in which none dare to dream.  Where the ceiling hangs low, like a slow-falling sky from which i cannot escape.  Warped cardboard held up by sagging strands of weathered packaging tape dangle overhead full of dust and debris.  Much like the threads of tinsel that snag on the splintered doorway as its once proud conifer is dragged out to be laid to rest alongside an 85″ flatscreen that couldn’t be much older than a year.

Why is there such a proliferation of discarded oversized TVs in these downtrodden residential areas? Are my neighbors truly that transfixed by the endless stream of palpable horrors that seep into their surrendered subconscious?  Or did they finally see one too many commercials jauntily pressuring them to call: “♫Cellino & Barnes ♪ Injury Attorneys – eight hun-dred eight-eight-eight ♫ eight-eight-eight-eight♪”?  I mean, seriously, that many fucking eights?  Could that shit sound any more ridiculous? Probably.  Either way, if it drove someone to banish their TV to the curb, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Then again, it might have been a case similar to the time i left my miniature die-cast airplane on top of the living room TV [bear in mind that these were the old-school TVs and thus, were shaped like a box].  After which,  my mother came along attempting to place a full glass of lemonade directly on top of said plane, causing it to spill into an electric fizzle-pop of frayed television circuitry.  I was forever given shit for that.  What I want to know is who in the fuck goes around placing overflowing beverages on top of TVs, to begin with?  Nevermind the fact that she couldn’t be bothered to so much as look to ensure there was a stable surface, to begin with. Honestly, that about sums up my family’s sense of logic.

Back then, appliances weren’t yet condemned to the 6-month forced obsolescence that seems to pervade the market nowadays, so it was a bit of an outrage to have been the one “responsible” for having murdered the one source of entertainment in the entire household.  Not to mention the fact that we were poor as fuck.  I’m pretty sure we were on welfare or had received food stamps or some such form of governmental assistance.

I do recall being very young and going to some strange building with my mother in which she was given a large two-pound brick of cheese wrapped in white plastic with big, bold lettering that said something like: “U.S. CHEESE.”  It kind of tasted like regular cheese, only if someone had siphoned out most of the flavor and color.  And don’t even get me started on powdered milk.  Talk about an affront to gastronomic convention.  I can only imagine what they put those cows through to get them to produce powder…

I have to wonder though, how many people have their childhood memories destroyed by the realization that they or one of their siblings had been molested by some depraved uncle or family “friend.”  Judging from what I’ve seen, at least as many people that have watched TV at some point in their lives.

As it turns out, we’re all living in an unfolding episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.  Perhaps now I know why all those giant-screened TVs have been put out to pasture.  When your life actually becomes the tragic storyline that once kept your family entertained it loses its appeal I suppose.  And I don’t seem to hear any jaunty jingles directing me to call their law offices so they can help to prosecute our abusers.

 

Relevant Rant

will we ever see beyond the trees
into the forest of illusions
set before us by ourselves
or are we simply at a loss
to bear this burden?

certainly, such implication
complicates the inferences
alluding to this state of indignation
which perpetuates the presence
of my acute consternation

do the constellations hold the key
unlocking unknown doors
to worlds beyond the chaos of existence?

is this counsel, self-contained
a crux which cancels itself out
a crutch our conscience uses
to ensconce us?

every question seems to touch
the realm of truth secluded
which eludes even those perspicacious
erring on most prudent

dedicated students of the mind
have yet to find an explanation
which defines our cosmic purpose

exponentially, our ponderance compounds
without exception
thereby instilling an exigence
unduly excess

we have set the boundaries
far beyond our wildest expectations
to the point of courting disappointment

with our inclination to usurp
our self-appointed power surreptitiously
supposing precedents unseen
which seem to propagate our dreams
so many silently believe

bereaving us of freedoms
rife with possibility
which would inspire community
instead of spurning hope for peace

sapience and salience
presumed part of our “sentience”
are scarcely exercised
or altogether compromised
despite the catastrophic impact
of our calculated actions
we continue on this fervid course
of forced dissociation

refusing to disseminate
the knowledge which facilitates
a self-sufficiency
that would, in turn, sustain society
without burning the bridges
to the people in positions
of imposed disparity based on factors
beyond their person

the irony is so profane
exceeding that which is insane
in fact, it’s that which only fools
would dare to claim not criminal

the truth of this reality
that humankind just cannot see
is every human stands to gain
when selfish hands release the reins
that led us all into substain

instead, with what we’ve stood to learn
so easily could we discern
that only through consideration
of each other, and each station
intrinsic within our being
can we truly attain freedom

kindness is not just a word
nor is it a notion absurd

it IS what all of us deserve

without it
there is only hurt

Remote Doting

there are no words
left to summon
once the mind surrenders reason

hearts succumb
in paper prisons
pining to be freed from treason

in this realm
of false ideals
we gaily taunt such daunting perils

sipping poison from the petals
trapped in penned epistles puerile

peppering the pages
ghostly voices
neither here
nor there

staring off into the wintry
void of whims most cavalier

waiting on a stranger’s rescue
with a somber song in tow

onward, through the shrouded garden
guided by a light unknown

vision hindered by such tender words
arrived from worlds away

crafted with astute precision
love inferred by lone hearts splayed

risking all despite the chance
of falling into false endeavor

blighted by promised romance
a fool is naught but fraught forever

Rant On Usurped Offense

There is no merit in insulting others

We have no need for hurtful words
harmful thoughts
or vulgar behavior

Disrespect does not gain the respect
of those one deems respectable

For every person
whom our words and actions victimize
unwittingly or otherwise
causes our consciences to devolve
until we have devised our own demise

We would do best to just confess
and take responsibility for our own past
including every prior indiscretion

For until we do so
we will be incapable of learning
the lessons necessary
for us to further evolve

It matters not
the company in which we feel free
to reveal the horrors
that our hearts conceal
for there is no possible way
of ever knowing
the personal experience of those around us
which is no less real

Regardless of how well we may think
we truly know them

We cannot afford to risk
the pain our carelessness inflicts
upon the innocent
already victimized by flagrant negligence

Lest we are compliant
as petulantly defiant accomplices
appearing as though tyrants

Abusive words like “slut “faggot”, “fat”, and “ugly”
“stupid”, “bitch”, “retarded”, “dumpy”
“sloppy seconds”, “homo”, “freak”
“loser”, “sissy”, “pussy”, “weakling”

referencing things negative
by saying that they’re “gay”
and generalizing specific groups
from which to draw negative comparison
all of these insidiously vicious sayings
cause hurt
even if you’re ~just playing~
or ~just kidding~

Such offenses cannot be excused
as though unwitting

Be the person standing tall
who speaks up for both one and all
instead of slandering these victims
leaving them to take the fall

When you spew out words like “whore”
you open up Pandora’s box
for chances are
by all accounts that someone
amidst every crowd
has suffered from a horrid fate
of which they cannot yet relate

Thier trauma once again
is visited upon them
distancing them further still
as you insist
it’s your ~free will~
and that they should perhaps just ~chill~

Well, victims more than deserve freedom
but instead, they’re shirked and beaten

Human beings perpetually defeated
by a society so utterly unfathomably heedless

Their self-denounced abusers
asserting with such emphasis
their so-called ”rights”
which they imagine to exist
which tragically intend
to place their offenses
on those who have in fact
suffered by their offenses

As though somehow it were a choice
to have had lived through tragic fates
that innately instill
horrific post-traumatic feelings
fraught with fear
anxiety, unspoken pains we cannot see
suicidal thoughts now more distraught
and all of this for what?

So you can validate your selfishness
by disregarding poignant pleas
from broken-hearted victims
who now stand to suffer
ceaselessly as they traverse
this wretched, thoughtless universe
which treats the victims as the curse
and celebrates abusive verse?

So you can feel so free
to recklessly impose your putrid ignorance
like pestilence
you seem so curiously invested in?

As if you’re being bested
by the simplest of requests
as if it inflicts any stress
comparable to the victim’s duress
upon the advent of associative anguish
by abuse-inflicted reflex?

I truly hope that your own ego
is not such that you would forgo
even basic kindness and concern
for those who you might not know
for the sake of something so absurd
insisting these abusive words
should thus be heard
by victims already dejected and unnerved
presuming that your right to speak
should somehow more deserve protection
than the human beings
most of whom would never cause a scene
instead, they keep their pain inside
while you would flaunt your shameful pride

My friend
you need to get a clue
this issue isn’t about you

I beg thee
please get over yourself
and think for once of someone else

Don’t tread upon the mental health
of victims trapped in private hell

Dare not assume to know so well
the truths of which most never tell
precisely for the reasons
that you seem to be so much compelled
to stand here and defend
until the very death
with all your will
while victims still are made anew
but all you can think of is YOU

If only you would understand
these victims are your fellow man
let me restate that
ALL WOMEN
and since you seem unable
to consider things in terms I speak
perhaps were you able to see
these victims are as close to thee
indeed of your own family
and all your friends
who plainly see your indifference
to silent pleas
from all the pain they’ve suffered through
including that since caused by you
on more than one occasion too

But with your callous caustic mouth
and disregard, you’ve voiced aloud
the pain that they must always bear
has now become a source of shame
which further stifles any hope
for their plight ever to be spoken
which in turn allows for the abuse they’ve suffered
to persist perpetually
until they’ve broken

And for now
which you have as much as acted
as a type of willful co-conspirator

If you figure this to make them somehow less
then let us put it in your terms
so you can be the bigger person
which you then can ~prove~
by showing them that you refuse
to treat them like they’re worthless

Society has ever shown
that pain and suffering not known
to others is routinely thrown aside
its victims left alone

If we refuse to stand up tall
while watching others take the fall
we truly have forsaken all
and yet we dare to have such gall
to act as though we’ve any merit
whilst diminishing the spirit
of the hurt whilst acting
as though we ourselves are bold and fearless

HEAR THIS!

If you’re to know of courage
it won’t come from the disparaging
of those who’ve bravely faced such horror
life cannot replace
and yet you wear upon your face
a smirk so smug of such disgrace

Instead of wasting so much time
perfecting mindless schoolyard rhymes
that aim to somehow thus define
your status in the social climb

It’s best if you perhaps would try
to rise above the bottom line
and speak to others
words with kindness
in your heart
not by design
nor pantomiming words so cruel
that leave you looking like the fool
who disregards the circumstance
of extrinsic experience

Of these pleas do I grow weary
for they seem to breed contrary feelings
from the heartless egos
people cannot seem to let go

Understand that any time
you place regard for others behind
your own arbitrary wants
and then proceed to poke and taunt them
it will only ever serve to reveal
your own heart perverted
when such pain can be averted
you choose simply to desert them

The courtesy of politesse
is no longer of interest
for if you hear these words and balk
then I insist

thou must fuck off!

Let Your Soul Flow

 


Some dude I once knew told me it was imperative that I should convey the message that he loves every one of you and that he understands that each one of us is a human being each with our own infinite array of cosmically complex experiences that are not to be judged by any person, including oneself. Life is but an ever-changing series of briefly nuanced eras. Each one with its own uniquely distinct energy signature that we experience in vibrational frequencies existing only within that moment. Cherish these feelings, for the only time we may ever again be able to taste such moments is in the ethereal realm of our dreamscapes in the hypnagogic aftermath of a soporific sentience.

In spite of life’s discord and dissonance that might leave you feeling otherwise, the fact is you are loved and appreciated. We needn’t the crutch of frail words which might fail us. Our presence is one of effusive fluorescing that reaches the farthest filaments of reality.  it is impossible for any matter, be it living, non-living, corporeal, or non-corporeal to traverse this cryptic chaos without the interchange of energy on a scale most prolific.  Our actions, regardless of their magnitude, affect countless things.  Though one might have not yet been privy to such truths, the fact is that their essence is known, loved, and appreciated by potentially infinite instances of consciousness that span a contiguous flow.

The nature of existence is the ebb and flow of all things leading into balance. It is necessary for us to disengage at times so that we may grow and learn independently of others. The journey of understanding is one composed of many companions but the processing of its components can only take place within ourselves. Please take care not to mistreat yourself, nor others. We are here solely by infinitely random chance. These forms which we inhabit are frail and susceptible to all forces including those which we are unable to see or comprehend. Every second of our reality is unique unto itself, yet, is also synced to the eternal singularity of space and time.

Let us revel in the vibrations of loving energy that inhabit this realm of sempiternity. And let us not be swayed by the happenstance of this physical plane that seems so rife with unfathomable anguish and despair. Our cognizance is born of perceptual context. We cannot know beauty without knowing its suffering.  Vortical balancing is the eternal state of all things. We must allow for this truth lest we create an internal imbalance leading to the exacerbation of our own existential entropy.

Energy must be allowed to flow through all dimensions in its natural state of fluidity. When any form thereof is left to stagnate, it will manifest in toxic and harmful ways. Let it flow through you as is was meant to. Give and receive love freely but never attempt to harvest nor harbor it. Allow yourself the freedom of this cosmic coalescence. Love is the force that connects all things. This is why I can truly say that I love you and why you can know this to be true.


Let the universe flow through your soul as your soul flows through the universe.

<3 Max

rant of scant merit

I guess I’m an emotional masochist
because I always fuck everything up
far beyond the precipice
of merit propitious
 
Dare I say
it’s depressingly disconcerting
for it’s duly quite fervid
the ferocity with which I unfailingly inflict
this inbound bondage

I have deemed a living hell upon myself
whose reins I shall never relinquish

Nor shall I ever dispel
the curse that these verses disperse
on my pithless personage  

I search for the dirge
that might deign to divulge
my divergent urges
surging to ravage my visage
with savage compulsion
and vague supposition  

Vulgar and vile these vices I vaunt
when enveloped in venting 
with vanity’s wont

As I saunter hauntingly
to a daunting demise 

I witness this witless world
through wistful windows of time
since rescinded sans residual reticence
of rote compliance
that readily dotes on my amative recalcitrance  

To further articulate this artless affliction 
so to properly parse the veil of this valse 
lacking prevalent cause
prudent pause must be given
to parlay the amplitude of dispossession
so that I mayhap, per se
gain from said deprivation  

With all best intentions
mentioned ad infinitum
impressed upon god’s greatest audience of none  

Yet somehow I find
that the soul of my mind
ever shuns me thus spurring
to run underground
just so that I may hide
from this hideous horror
whorled in writhing

Undermining my chances to shine
with such vibrancy confined to contrivance
in idle contradiction to idyllic ideals

Where no sound is present
to presage profound plights
of piteous people persistently perishing
garishly sinking into sentient pits
of sapient despair

And here I lay
hapless in hyporeactive states
hopeless to extend a helping hand
bearing the selflessness of our sole salvation

To solve any quarrels of lore’s requiem
as ennui quandaries of quietus quell
squeamish skin squandered  

Acclimatization to scandal and scourges
encouraging naught but a purging averred

Spurious inference evinced disingenuously
a word so misused it defines what is wincing

Thrust upon miasmic oceans of plasma
in plumes plotting schisms of ruinous rue

Sophists usurping
poised with dissemblance
in spite of supinely presented sound pleas 

At which point I ponder
to pander implore
that you please apprise me
what purpose this is for

Aside from assuaging an aging aplomb
ere appearing as pompous
as this pen’s pathetically impaired plies
of reasoning so paltry

Alas, I digress
for my state of distress
is distorting the functions
compressing my chest  

Lest I cease and desist
I shall cease to exist
but at least I know this much
is blissfully true:
I am fucked
and I cannot resist
this fool’s fate
of such languorous
and lasting lamenting libration

Intent on selling my soul
to the devil in reveries 
of such voracious dyspepsy
and lack of discretion
so disseminating degrading the ground
that I share with my fellow
formations of foul indignation interred  

In tombs of tempestuous vestibules
flailing in failure
so profound it resounds and reverberates
in sonorous echoes
that beckon our reckoning
in this armageddon that hails from charred skies

Rippling throughout our decrepit contortions
condemned to a cold crippling morphine drip
faintly gripping death’s sinewless hand
where we lie

rant of dreams forsaken

In life, we are plagued with many things.
Some serve to compel us forward.
Some, seem only to exist to thwart our pusillanimous progress toward the arbitrary goal of being human.
What on earth is this innate desire to adhere to such ludicrous standards of corporeal existence?
What is this tethering to that which can only be thought of as tormented torturing?

To be able to reasonably anticipate the fate of each moment is a fate worse than death itself.
To know the rhythm of each step.  
The cadence of every footfall.
To know the precise frame of time in which that insidious sliver of seeping sunlight will slip in through the window’s crack to smack you into the oblivion of consciousness.

Beholden to the call of nature’s never-ending reminder that our minds are moored to primal needs to which we must abide.
To know that dreams we hope to reach are ever dangling within our reach on string-bound carrots tied to sticks that sit firmly within the grasp of capitalistic ceremony.
Only to be ripped from our hands as the sky rips off its fleece of sloe that flickered with the promises of worlds we’ve yet to know.
Worlds we once had known.

Our dreams become less reasonable as reason wriggles into our conscious condemnation of the hope we must forgo.
The cost exceeds the measures of the treasures life might show us.

And so, we go from lavish fiction in depictions of our making to the stark and unforgiving scripts seemed written solely to afflict us.
Imprisoned by a temporality that deems our freedom nothing more than fruitless. Scheming to destroy the only things that make this life worth living.

And believe that it’s a given, that regardless of how much we strive to live the lives that linger long in silent songs that writhe in our subconsciousness, we slowly die each time we’re forced to lift our eyelids open.  
To the moment of our hope’s demise, we try to trick ourselves into thinking thoughts in which our dreams aren’t sinking fast like ghostly ships aghast into the vast, dark abyss of bottomless abandon.

So that we might barely subsist.
This is not the life we want.

Dubious portrayals made to convey a fervid fantasy none can achieve lest they bereave their one and only soul’s reprieve by leaving all that could have been. To sleep beneath the silent seas of muted pleas whose surface screams tempestuously with festering feelings of remorse and discontented cries of silent implore.

Born into a life of languishing where anguish rules as king with such an iron fist, the siren’s kiss falls into effigy.
It’s far beyond what’s known as wrong but come the shadow of the dawn we must persist as listless pawns e’er clamoring just to go on.  

For if we were to choose a fate not left effete by our own feet and force ourselves to deviate from what’s accepted and expected we would find ourselves neglected by our peers appearing queer whose scolding sneers and jilted jeers sustain our ever-loving fears of failure as our freedom fades.  As quickly as we can adhere to anhedony-addled tears of consequence beyond compare.

We forsake freedom for the sake of filling holes of corporate waste for ends that we will never taste.
A lifetime spent with egg on our face.

There is no hope for time replaced.
Still, knowing this, we must awaken without time to contemplate our dreams in hypnagogic states that hold the key needed to free our soul from these arbitrary weights.

Inflicted on our conscious being bearing on our consciences absconding with the only thing that would ensconce our existence.
But our purpose has been purloined for acquisition of gold coin in copious amounts of which we’ll never see by all accounts.

As pointless is this penned appeal I must present this truth concealed for I must voice these things I feel lest I succumb to my ideals of suicidal impetus of such unbridled force that thrusts upon me like this bed of bricks from where I now sit writing this.

rant of existential fallout

i’m having a false memory about a dream i once had in which we all existed inside of a forgotten pocket of time that had folded in upon itself and transmuted into a vibrational frequency of such dynamic harmonic resonance that encompassed the entirety of all things both quantum and cosmic on a spectrum of infinite looping which so enraptured our corporeal coils in an ensconcing of such esoteric acquiescence that we instantaneously interspersed into the essence of our absence in transcendence to placid dimensions of eminence and omnipresent consciousness that spanned the heavens far beyond the liquid crystal windows through which we present ourselves as denizens in varied states of indiscretion vetting the significance of cognizance amid existence venting to avail our failings falling from our fleshy prisons vying to compose a comprehensive version of our vision through the vices implemented to prevent the avaricious evils that have sequestrated every living soul inside of silent isles of self-exile meanwhile their wastrel lusting spurns our precious chance to dance with freedom compromising all that we had ever grasped into an astral dust then scattered shattering the poignancy that once we stood to gain but rather than forgo the ego they would sooner let go of the reigns whence they had commandeered in vain through poisoning the coursing veins of mother nature with disdain and disregard imparted by their phantom hearts of darkness drowning in disreputable logic marred by hyperbolic deviants colluding with the devil deftly orchestrating devolution of every amalgamation made up of the molecules that rule our only known subsistence in this distant form that undulates between the egress of our fated path from womb to tomb to aftermath whose ingress we are left to guess in ponderance of great distress so dauntingly ubiquitous the impetus of our bequest