Poignant Blurs

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"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle. The world you desired can be won. It exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours." - Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Friday, March 18, 2005

Poignant Blurs


Confine me not
in your selfish concentricities.
I grow outward, not inward as you would wish.

I will exceed you.
All you thought you conquered
will be but my baby garden, from which I feed.

My strength I gather from all you knew
you had but could not follow through.
I follow through and so I Master you.

Is my lack of insecurity beginning to frighten you?
It might well should.
I'm gaining strength and strength will supersede
your efforts of deceit.

I forgive though I do not condone.
You held me here believing I would never see
but follow blindly you who
know so little, but speak so well.
Time will tell.


So many artists, zealots, prophets
driven mad, overdosed, tormented
by the overwhelming capacity of their minds
trying to embrace life.
Or is the overwhelming desire escape, which led them to create in the first place?
What drives you?
To supersede reality?
You think that's free?
Is it between life, or one that's more than, which destroys you?
What vision this, so gifted/cursed
to those who not only see, but too admit
it's more than you and me.
The price paid for clarity, or is it insanity,
or one and the same as they say?
To love is to trade art for slavery?
And in so doing create a new and yet unrecognized beauty?
In doing so divide your own worth
and so too double but in another realm?
Is this a true dilemma,
or just another existential excursion in inadequacy?


I am humbled.
Deep is the mystery of freedom
of uniquity
of personal significance.
Shallow still are the mind waters
Biding time to reach the diving depth
or altitude [which?]
Where I may grasp the purest truth

So frequently I curse the choice
which washed me up again upon
the human shore of frailty and ignorance.
Alas, this is where the deep sea divers are
and I am once again an infant.

My only recourse is my story
told on bar napkins, notebooks, diaries;
where I might leave an ounce or an inkling
of contributory evidence
to the magnificent marching parade of progress
that continues as if I had never come at all.


Prescribe me a path
that I may neglect all personal responsibility.
Give me advice
so I can blame you for the results.
Absolve me of intellectual confinement
so I can revel in ignorant bliss.

Let me over think this
that I might actually find the answer!
Let me be perfectionist
that I might attain greatness!
Lend me none of your weakness
for I have quite enough of my own.

Though I value every syllable of life
let me write my own unique poetry
and try not to take offense
when yours I don't subscribe to.

I do not need to feel important
only heard.
Listen to the person I AM
even if you do not share the vision.
Fake it, just to hear me say it,
maybe something good could come.

I live this life of mine to make it
something personal to share.
For those who one day choose to own it
of the millions of people out there.
Aren't we all the stepping stones to greatness?
Only the great will know.


I am paralyzed
inconspicuous because
my failure and weakness is so much like your own.
Yet I hold higher standards.
Where is my soul mate now
that I have over analyzed and thought him into tedious day life nonsense?
Am I more practically useful now,
with no love, and no dreams?
What of my tortured heart?
Why does it still beat?
Steady so unending
to live, love and die
or live and give no love.
I will not be evils tool
and I will not give it all up for you.
Is there a middle life for those who try so deeply to become it;
all that there is to be?
I am your blasphemy, your sin,
your absolution, your reflection.
But isn't it mine to own?


So I made my bed,
Now you want me to die in it?
I've done my part
I'm still here despite it.
I've led myself in circles past the 23 I'm supposed to be.
That makes 300 cycles more or less
from what you claim to have led.
Your petty years are yours,
and mine are mine to own.
I'm just beginning to claim
the things you think you have found long before me.
I make my bed in nails
and you in roses,
so who's to brag?
Both are sharp and piercing, though yours smells better
(or so you said)
Are you even looking where you lie?
Does it matter to you?
The truth, the dream, the crime?
Is it only a disservice because I, so petty and selfish, demand More?
So snotty moody personified I, I ask for more.
And this is all you have?
I diva! How dare I deserve from life that which I invest?
a thousand of your complacent cries
echo in my chest.
We were all free once.
I object to your condescendence.
Fuck your careful words and prudence.
I am here, and I will prove it.
I'll live and die it. I will do it.


I read and study and try
to think with my head, feel with my heart, live in my body.
You let it go so carelessly.
All I carefully construct
you think I'm foolish
Just relax you say, calm down.
I am too much for you, too much intensity, take things so seriously.
It is after all just life. Only life.
I let it occupy me.
Well what the hell is the point of doing anything since it's only life
only, only, only life and nothing more?
That's nothing at all, so what's the score.
I'm so disgusted, fed up, hate my own reflection in you, my place among you,
but that leaves only me to ache alone
for something I have never known.
How can life prevail this way?
How will I withstand my stay
here, even I don't know how to change it.
I am just as much a party to it
party to much in it
can't seem to find the drive to really go after it.
I am so ashamed and distant from it.

I look to you and cry.
You will never see me, still I try.
I want only to share the me I've found
so much more is there, but I have no ground
you reject even the basest of offers.
I'm talking human connection here, no need for altars.
Why can't we relish our own uniquity
expand on our diversities, grow in our communities
socialize prophetically?
Not subsidize and subdivide and
judge critique demand.
We can't do this all alone
so why try to be so superior?
You brother are not me. I can beat you too.
Let me stand on top and scream alone I am the king
and let no one follow me since I have beat them all
And the king of nothing I will be
and then, Then I have no one to fear
and then, Then I will be OK.
We are insanity, We live insanity.
Or maybe I'm just catching on?
This the great social scandal?
The supreme disillusion.
"Hello socialization, you are a horse of a pill"
Everyone is doing it, just hold your nose and swallow.
Try not to think
It's excess noise and we have tambourines for that.
Clap and nod and smile and bob.
Hey didn't I see you here yesterday?

Your pitiful excuse of an entity
identifying human characteristics but claiming larger than life control.
Answer me, since I actually bother to ask, and do not simply agree to your diatribe
paraphrased millenniums before manipulated by man.
Speak to me directly and then I will respect.

Who follows this shit knowingly?
Sounds like a con to me.
But I am searching for something here, and want to understand.

Love me as the summer moon shines
through black blue sky and forest wind
through painted glass and pounding water
and dazzle me
my diamond boy
Our rhythm a tiny symphony
of love's shimmering vision.

out of will and not for love
to see and observe
man, music, and life.


Think, sweet goddess
Absurd friend
frantic instrument
model of weak need.
Have grace my angel
Soar above it.


Write as boldness would
part blue water,
after red floods
while green only messes about.


Life is a void, but there you are.
Repulsive aesthetic
on surreal canvas
trying to imagine no pain.


They beat him
they did not know
they must break her
to see who's really mad.


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