A Thorned Arsenal
While misery has a weapon to use
I’m not going to launch mine today
And if roses came with a second chance
I would just grow them for another time
What about singing in the rain
It makes me cold when there’s no warm by my side
It makes me cold when there’s no feeling inside
Tuesday, December 09, 2003
Monday, December 08, 2003
Sleeping Seat Belt
The dark side sees,
The dreams turn to a liquid that slowly leaks out of my ear.
Burning so much that plastic actions can’t retain them.
Only alone in a burnt hallway, locked doors,
Floor made of keys with no holes to put them.
Farther away quick sand lies, maybe they’ll see me,
Maybe I’ll be recognized as different, although all the rust remains the same.
I’m climbing a hill made of mirrors,
It forces my face to fight me,
I’m struggling with my self, struggling to:
Put on piercings through the frontal lobe,
The left half keeps me on my toes as to what purpose is,
The right, of course, distracts me from reappearing in my own dreams,
Birthing triplets make me hope that I may stop the cycle.
Help me find my rain so that I can return it to the sea,
Wherever it may be, It is the slightest sight that slides me away,
Like mud down a mountain, a mountain I will never reach.
The rain continues to drown me; it has been piercing all this time.
A bed of needles to pass the time through dreams that leak as they always have done,
Now, here, fear is a way of life and eternity has stolen my alarm clock.
The dark side sees,
The dreams turn to a liquid that slowly leaks out of my ear.
Burning so much that plastic actions can’t retain them.
Only alone in a burnt hallway, locked doors,
Floor made of keys with no holes to put them.
Farther away quick sand lies, maybe they’ll see me,
Maybe I’ll be recognized as different, although all the rust remains the same.
I’m climbing a hill made of mirrors,
It forces my face to fight me,
I’m struggling with my self, struggling to:
Put on piercings through the frontal lobe,
The left half keeps me on my toes as to what purpose is,
The right, of course, distracts me from reappearing in my own dreams,
Birthing triplets make me hope that I may stop the cycle.
Help me find my rain so that I can return it to the sea,
Wherever it may be, It is the slightest sight that slides me away,
Like mud down a mountain, a mountain I will never reach.
The rain continues to drown me; it has been piercing all this time.
A bed of needles to pass the time through dreams that leak as they always have done,
Now, here, fear is a way of life and eternity has stolen my alarm clock.
Friday, December 05, 2003
An Essay on the Use of a Poetic Entropy
The simplest poem can contain one word and still hold every bit of meaning equal to a dissertation of those thoughts that invented it. Such poems can impact to a greater extent because they are not confined to a lesser standard of definition, they are more open, and adaptable to any single individual they may glance upon it. I shall give them the name of entropies, as the scientific term is a collective disorder energy. Such poems can emanate any possibility, and with a single word can come millions of thoughts and questions, and more of a movement than any description of standard poetic appeal could. Such “entropies” might be questionable with its traditional romantic appeal, but these are barriers that must be broken in order to gain a higher plane of thought. Punctual input can also change the perception of such a word; For instance, “Truth” can bear any number of meanings but when a word appears with a minute punctuation, like “Truth!”, this can cause a different path to break away in thought such as that the “truth” is found or a sort of in your face mocking, in which can alter your original structure of “truth”. Furthermore, the question mark and others are endless punctuations which can similarly give an alternate perspective; “Truth?”. The daily form of an entropy poem is graffiti. Common occurrences such as “Love” help spread thought in a place where no thought was previously given. Also, I might add a entropy doesn’t have to be a single word, but a compact statement that contains more than the words themselves. I once saw: “$ this is your god”, strewn across a walkway brick. This is the simplest form of publication, words which are placed in one geographic place, yet travel with the people who read them. Anything that which goes about provoking thoughts opposed to the government issued ones, can be seen as entropy, as they seek to give disorder or a bit of thinking “outside the box”.
The simplest poem can contain one word and still hold every bit of meaning equal to a dissertation of those thoughts that invented it. Such poems can impact to a greater extent because they are not confined to a lesser standard of definition, they are more open, and adaptable to any single individual they may glance upon it. I shall give them the name of entropies, as the scientific term is a collective disorder energy. Such poems can emanate any possibility, and with a single word can come millions of thoughts and questions, and more of a movement than any description of standard poetic appeal could. Such “entropies” might be questionable with its traditional romantic appeal, but these are barriers that must be broken in order to gain a higher plane of thought. Punctual input can also change the perception of such a word; For instance, “Truth” can bear any number of meanings but when a word appears with a minute punctuation, like “Truth!”, this can cause a different path to break away in thought such as that the “truth” is found or a sort of in your face mocking, in which can alter your original structure of “truth”. Furthermore, the question mark and others are endless punctuations which can similarly give an alternate perspective; “Truth?”. The daily form of an entropy poem is graffiti. Common occurrences such as “Love” help spread thought in a place where no thought was previously given. Also, I might add a entropy doesn’t have to be a single word, but a compact statement that contains more than the words themselves. I once saw: “$ this is your god”, strewn across a walkway brick. This is the simplest form of publication, words which are placed in one geographic place, yet travel with the people who read them. Anything that which goes about provoking thoughts opposed to the government issued ones, can be seen as entropy, as they seek to give disorder or a bit of thinking “outside the box”.
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Blackout
Blackout,
A little wisdom in my tea.
Unexplainable thoughts climb the highest sequoia tree
I say, it’s higher than being about conceptually.
No more E’s please.
Back on the track of catching these elusive joints,
The meeting of meaning and mania.
Of course, they fly right out of my head.
It's expected, but what I dare to do
What most do not, gain back what has escaped.
I’m being depleted, though most see it as an outlet.
Can’t help eating to fill the hole,
That was once finely outlined with basic tools.
It's all to obtaining the pyramid, to get to the peak
Once the base has been set, so is the highest point one can reach.
As in all things that have a beginning, there must be an end and another beginning.
At least to my empty cup of tea, but how can it be tea if it’s emptied?
Blackout.
Blackout,
A little wisdom in my tea.
Unexplainable thoughts climb the highest sequoia tree
I say, it’s higher than being about conceptually.
No more E’s please.
Back on the track of catching these elusive joints,
The meeting of meaning and mania.
Of course, they fly right out of my head.
It's expected, but what I dare to do
What most do not, gain back what has escaped.
I’m being depleted, though most see it as an outlet.
Can’t help eating to fill the hole,
That was once finely outlined with basic tools.
It's all to obtaining the pyramid, to get to the peak
Once the base has been set, so is the highest point one can reach.
As in all things that have a beginning, there must be an end and another beginning.
At least to my empty cup of tea, but how can it be tea if it’s emptied?
Blackout.
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