Feeling the pulse

I look at the wind blowing leaves across the ground
Caught in the quiet seconds of beauty
Noting the fluid interplay between strength and seemingly passive forces
Gravity
Thermals pushing up against the air
The fluid aerodynamics of the push and pull
The sound of flutter and howl of deep wind
These alone moments
Where despair and epiphany take root

Heartbeat sounds heavy
In these long moments
Facing across the chasm of distance
And the hope of soon

A shadow play for the wicked

Time fires an arbalest
Year by year the pain grows the lesser
Though instead of sharp
We find the dull ache of loss
And the fading taste of the world
This destruction which once stole away years
Now lasts a long morning but still
It never fades completely
Even as every memory but the pain leaves
As if what was belonged to another me
Who has since passed away
Faded in the firelight

Monetization of the human soul

I totally wish I was asleep right now
Huddle in a blanket
A little too warm but oblivious because I am about to be oblivious
I completely get why I’m not
I have to get up
I have to get ready for work
So that they keep paying me
So that I can pay bills
So that the lights stay on
So I can live in a house
Not the street
So that I can eat today and tomorrow
So that my health doesn’t deteriorate faster

And that’s completely why I want to be asleep
Because that
Is bullshit
I have to go to work
So that I don’t die
So that my living conditions don’t devolve
Because there is no basic human state of living
Which our society would support
No level at which safety is guaranteed
There is either working poor
Or super rich
If you stopped working today
How long would it be before you were homeless?
Before you couldn’t eat?
Before this level of belief that you are doing well deteriorates?
Not long
For most of us, not even a paycheck
For many of us
Less than that
The people who have somehow made enough money that they have other streams of income
Many of which are dependent on you going to that job every day
They last longer
But eventually we all fall
And who is left?
The ones who accumulated so much personal wealth that they are themselves nation-states. They personally employ so many people, that their lives are safe…for longer.
But the system is collapsing
In slow motion perhaps
But it’s falling
Because we created tools which influence human weakness on a vast scale
And gave those tools to whoever had any amount of money.
I finally see how the world of Anathem(Neal Stephenson’s book) comes about
How worlds fall and are reborn
But we don’t have a system in place to reboot us
We’ll fall into barbarism
And we’ll pay for the privilege
And the ones with the money will last longer
But when the structure crumbles
The towers fall eventually
But still
I have to go to work
Because I’m not paid to see and speak truth

That moment before the tuning fork stops

We do a lot of things to make sure we aren’t left in silence
Silence which fills us
Or leaves us stranded in echos
We watch TV or Twitch
We listen to music, but shy away from the sounds which will evoke emotions
We play games
We work
Anything and everything to fall asleep exhausted
Another day passed by
Not thinking
Sometimes the frenzy is a good thing
Keeping us from repeating bad choices
But still
That silence cannot be run from forever
And we find ourselves trapped by memories
Or lies our brains tell us
Or what society wants from us
Or
Or
Or
But
The silence is not the enemy
It’s just the space where we get the time to just be
And all that else comes crashing down and drowns us
Because we dam it away
Hold it outside of ourselves
Until handling it becomes drowning in a sea of discordancy
So we run
We run and hide
It’s why writers and poets drink
Because we are the sanity impaired who seek out the quiet
It’s the only place we get a chance to see
And eventually we walk in less water
And eventually we sit at low ebb
And we lament not drowning, because we installed a safety valve
But we remember
We see
We know that quiet
The best of us are guides
The rest refugees
But still,
Take a moment with your silence
It only wants you to see
If only some things could not be unseen

Floating in the too wide ocean

End of day
Tired and aching
Arm radiates pain
Slow down
Molten glass
Past progress
Ideas from the times before
Playlist? Or poetry
Whichever costs the lesser
Each word pulled out
Leaving exhaustion to funnel echos
Too loud
Too quiet
Sleep weighs heavy
Uncomfortable but fading in the dubious comfort of the office
Bed calls out
But people there
Too loud, too much
And wanting aches just fading
Into frantic dream
Lost in these moments
Without

If you know, you know

They sound so sincere
So confused by what’s happening
Trying to make sense of something which runs contrary to the lies they’ve believed their entire lives
They watch footage
They read transcripts
But as soon as someone tells them a happy lie
One that clicks with their fiction based reality
They say, “Oh really?”
And they sigh
Letting out the tension from the cognitive dissonance between reality and the false narrative that they hide in
“I didn’t know that,” they say
“That makes sense,” relief palpable in their voice.
Fucking white people

Almost rhyming makes me sleepy

Fever from exhaustion and aches from reluctance
Stress responses to unbearable situations
Call me broken
Of the mind perhaps, the body certainly
But not the heart
And ain’t that some weird shit
To have things flipped table like that
But still that familiar song of close but not close enough plays on the radio
Turning that dial, looking for a stronger frequency
Rolling those dice hoping for a triple hard eight
To run the board and let it ride
Until dreams become reality
But reality is wicked
It does care what you want, only what bargain will you make
Because that’s how it is here
We sell our time, physical or mental
And what’s the price tag on a new life
Hard to buy when you are still making installments on the one you have
Just broke enough to know that you aren’t broke
Alive, paying bills, told to cut back on that overpriced coffee that tastes like freedom and for a few sips you get to forget that the rent is due and food is running low.
Buying everything cheap
Instead of well, because saving costs to much, can’t go to work if you aren’t wearing shoes
Pull yourself up by your bootstraps
That’s some non-newtonian physics
Smiling faces like they’ve done you a favor
Tired of this broken wheel
This simulation
Fucking programmers
Always introducing new bugs with each new sketch update
Fuck it
I gotta live here
What happens when it goes away
Futures uncertain but still
I can always depend on being wide awake when it’s time to sleep

A moment to ponder

Sometimes the cab of the truck outside of the house is the only quiet
The only calm
The only myself I get to be
I wonder how it came that I am split
A heart and thoughts in dichotomis parallel
One part with friends in the city I love
One part with love in the far reaches
And home
This place I sleep
Has become disquiet
Contentious
Almost hostile
It’s interiors no more shelter than a battlefield
Still
Outside
I can grasp the contentment I once felt
Hear the wind whip and whistle
The heat gathering in bones
Eyes too sad to weep