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 them to where we are now. 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.

Worlds of Wonder

ceaselessly
caught between
two worlds of wonder

one of which
i revel
in a beauty
yet untold

watching it unfold
in muted ponder

another
so disheveled
that i shudder
to behold

ruthlessly
comprised
of pealing thunder

underneath
the undulation
lies a plundered soul

pandering
the plight
of its condition

haunted
by the light
ever lingering
on yonder

longing
for an answer
to it all

Era of Remorse

wishes are the whims of wastrels
waiting for the world to turn
upon the drop of faceless dimes
amid a burning empire spurned

timid tales shall move no mountains
mend thy heart by will of mind
ardent kindness fells the wicked
ailing veils of thin disguise

seize the reins of thine oppressor
tyranny reigns not by virtue
if we are to acquiesce to tenets of naught
so becomes truth

heed the words of honored adage
in this era of remorse
lest their greed abscond thy haven
wresting faith through fearful discourse

Furtive Moons

there are only so many metaphors
that serve to justify this pain
so many words
chewed up
and spit back out
onto surfaces
whose purpose
carries all burdens

these feelings are like water
journeying alone
in a fearless freefall
crashing into the earth below
to join the fates
that all have known

still, each fragment
leaves its mark
for others to embark upon
in the hour
of our exodus to exile

the skies belong to one
as one to all
as life itself
bleeds into the eyes
at the horizon

we take our tragic pittance
wrought from anguish
each within the alchemy intrinsic
to their own

to spin the loom
and weave majestic tapestries
of triumph
to share the secrets
intimately held
by furtive moons

Take Heed

the well of inspiration draws from sources which are infinite
to bridge connection to each one demands forethought discriminate
we must maintain fastidious pursuit of new experience
to formulate the truth of our expressive voice in variants
each origin is cyclical in its availability
therefore we must commit to an atypical agility
lest we submit to dormancy, a fate surely abhorrent
we must all embrace the stormy seas and revel in the torrent
even everyday minutiae has a merit worth attending
it is only in this spirit does our muse become unending
this exemplifies the reason why we must remain objective
exercising our innate ability to be reflective
analyzing every aspect of the open world around us
sees us not to jeopardize our very existential impetus
for many things persist within this life which can demoralize
in manners most ubiquitous seen fit to leave us compromised
thus rendering creative function far less than fortuitous
engendering superlative compunction most gratuitous
it is upon such moments when doth art submit to artifice
and hearts succumb to numbness amid constructs born of avarice
therefore we must ensure to heed a purity of influence
and shore up our defenses courting verity with confidence
to hearken only calls which bear the mark of authenticity
embarking on our journey poised with prudent perspicacity
for muse is but a fickle and capricious force by nature
to abuse it only serves to redefine its nomenclature
hence, we must stay mindful and forgo the fruit found on the lowest branch
lest we are left to wallow in the throes of sophist circumstance
and such is not a fate abating idealization
of our suicidal woes, condemning our souls to damnation

Accursed Ring

i have worn
this banded armor
shorn away
by silent toll

even now
in days diminished
erstwhile sentiments yet hold

idle hands
have stayed my purpose
vice allays
the spirit’s wake

tears erode
this pallid surface
worthless feelings
ne’er abate

dulling
from the desert sun
has robbed me
of my own perception

burning shadows
stabbed my eyes
and stole her
from the moon’s reflection

Drifting Into Ruin

our distance
belies summation

amid the sacred frivol
we chose
to quantify
ourselves

defiant
like the sentience
of existence

inundated
with the drivel
waning tides forgot
to tell

timeless dimensions
lay between
the worlds
within these walls

teemed with apprehension
we haplessly watch
verity unfurl

drifting
into ruin

Retro-Spectrum

time
was the circumstance

that drove paper nails
through weightless
coffins

to think
we once knew

as desperately
we dangled
from tresses
of concession

composed of gold

which stretched
for many miles
beyond

the trenches
of our youth

i look now
upon days gone

eschewing

but nowhere
are you to be found

lost
perhaps

in the vaulted yonder

where obsidian
gaurds
the earthen tomb

Transmuted

There are more thoughts within this faint entropic

masquerade than will ever see the humility of

expression. Were that they could be fit for some

metaphor that might convey a sense of infinite

eternity. Alas, the landscape which bears the collective

essence of my earthly experience cycles in an orbit as

scant as the tip of this pen. I am but a mere fleck of

fading ink revolving around a feckless dash of

happenstance. One that once saw fit to encompass

every fiber of my fleeting flesh. Fortifying a form so

feeble with belief that life was far more than just the

sum of its paltry components. The feeling which fate is

remissful to frivol. That which defines a purposeful

flight through this finite illusion, alluding to skies that

touch freedom where fear goes to rest. To say I had

fallen would be folly, for such would imply that I was

not as flat to the ground when first I found footing.

Flooded with rains wrung from wrenched rumination.

Relinquishing all of my being into hinterland arms of her

wintry repose.

Great Big World*

beyond
my front door

lies a great
big world

more vast
than is humanly
comprehensible

a veritable cornucopia
of prospect propitious
and liberty endless

brimming
with untold
opportunity
and infinite possibility

for me

to swiftly
and precisely

meet
my ultimate
demise