My mother, my father,
my upbringing, my education,
my fascination, my obsession,
my wonder and my uncomely nose.
My genetic disposition,
my eigenstate,
my heroes,
and those I despised,
the food I ate,
the abuse and suffering I went through,
everything I percieved and every way I interpreted it...
it has sort of fucked me up.
Really.
I am in a constant state of agog,
and though some say this is holy,
it is static stupidity,
a concession to the dirt we claw through as we try reaching the surface.
Suffocating,
how long can a day dreamer incubate?
Sometimes, I suspect, it takes longer than one life time.
This universe becomes quickly obviously impossible to explain,
but other than being born, eating, shitting, loving hating,
and discovering, before being programmed....
there is something else we must do.
Before we die.
Maybe many of us get the opportunity to see things clearly for one infinite,
picosecond....
We're supposed to strive for enlightenment.
Even though we may never reach it.
Nobody seems to have much interest in that though...
Did you think you were here for birth, school, work, and death...
and nothing more?
If you thought so, maybe it's true.
Once you break through the wall of the status quo,
you might be surprised at the things you think and say.
Don't be a lemming if you can prevent it.
But if that's your way...hey...you're a Lemming...
walk off the ledge...fall through the gap...and hope god gave you an umbrella.
If there is a god in any sense,
he obviously wanted you to die anyway.
Every indication points to the conclusion that you're going too.
Like all the others...
Maybe god hoped you had the sense to realize that you were a part of something greater,
that you would know, everything you experienced and imagined will be lost.
Maybe god planted you and you were a seed.
Maybe you failed to blossom, and maybe you grew into something strange.
You didn't need to know about or love god,
god's not really real anyway....
just a control mechanism for the ignorant masses.
An anchor for the uncertain.
We are not means to an end,
but gateways to infinity.
Everything we take,
we take from ourselves,
we take from humanity.
Everything we give we gain.
Not passing on things...but contributing.
Sketch something on a piece of paper today.
Write a poem.
Place a rock upon another in an interesting way.
Don't spend every moment sucking off to your id and being so commonly insane.
Do what makes you feel good.
Values are an illusion.
We all know.
Just follow...and find your own way.
Sociophilosophy
Comments
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when I read 'the food I ate,' my first thought was 'eww.' But that's because I thought you said foot not food.
how long can a day dreamer incubate?
-I like that thought.
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Very beautiful and deep. Make something of yourself. Leave your mark on the world. That's what I got from your poem, and it's a thought that I've been circling around for so long now. If I were to die tomorrow, I want to feel like I've contributed something, even if it's just a little poem on this website that people read, because at least they read it.
Thank you for sharing this poem. -
Well, Poet.
I disagree completely with most you say. MOST being God. For me God is a reality. Very much so. And you too. Real man somewhere Downthere ...
Now: I love being insane. It is just this magical moment of being free, see? Not high on drugs; not low on depression; nope. Just being high on poetry.
So.
Thank you for the sway. It gave me a way to understand.
Kiss on the forehead.
Myra
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I keep post its in my purse.
Often I jot notes for writing on them.. for poetry/prose/or just little hiccups from my brain
and often I leave them somewhere without my name
without a title, without contact information
just in case some hansel or gretel is looking for a breadcumb that hasn't been bleached.
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I often write poems live, and just change them and correct them until I get burned out, decide they're not worth more effort, or am pretty happy with the final results. I'm a pretty good poet, but I don't expect anyone else to think so. It's very rare I don't have immediate internet access, so this is my toilette paper, my scrap of brown bag...my reciept...
I haven't written anything down by hand for years now.
If you read this piece initially, you'll see it's changed drastically.
It's only a poem though, and although I hope it's enlightening...few if any of the thousand of pieces I've written will ever be great. -
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That makes perfect sense.
I like my writing; I would lie if I said I didn't. Why would I bother to write if I didn't like it when I read it?
I know that doesn't mean others will; I'm okay with that.
I did notice you added a lot, edited some. I like this with what you've added..
I didn't used to 'write'
This summer I picked up the habit again; started carrying notebooks and pens so when inspiration hit, I wouldn't lose the words. I hate that. There may be somethign good in there and not writing it down feels like throwing it way.
Maybe it's not earth shattering; and maybe I am the only one who sees the importance, but I learn something each time I write my thoughts down. I see things I otherwise miss.
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oppertunity (opportunity)..I'm guessing that is a typo
"I am in a constant state of agog," - insanely quotable.
And you are not wrong, a lot of people have no clue that they should even desire enlightenment. Some who do have the desire confuse enlightment with acquiring shit -- and some are never taught that there is anything beyond eating, shitting, sleeping, dreaming, dying ...
some aren't even given the gift to dream
some are left in the mud with no idea that life can be more than mud.
Hm, I'm rambling.
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Edited, with revisions. Thanks for the heads up. I appreciate people pointing out spelling mistakes as much as I like observations. This was a first draft, and flowing...I missed it even after the first read before posting. I changed the ending too. Peace out.
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