Mencius, what is that they're doing?

Zhǐ! Another immortal walked from the sea;
Leaf & cordage finely chopped,
Throughly masticated & combined,
Left to the air to then reside
And collected after dried.
How most strange & curious!

You say the nobility call this parchment,
But for humor as irony
And because of the sound made
During the process of hammering,
The craftsmen call it paper?
And, like with tattoos,
They use pastes & fluids like dyes & resins
To stain drawings, shapes, and characters?

The lesser the weight of tablets,
Well-traveled with, easily read & clearly,
Markable with ease; readily inviting change
After change, reflecting our fragileness & resilience, offering record of our thoughts & accomplishments, a chance for the more prolific scribe and the library diverser & denser?

How wonderous a creation,
How gifted the craftsmen,
How genius the inventors.


Wow. That was so long ago
Before I was born.
But then compared to much else,
This fledgling has yet to have flown
From the small enclaves it nests as home.

86 an 88 -
What's the solution?
-2

If you think I am the rat in a cage
And not those who sit inside all day
In courthouses and temples
You are the lost one and I
Am saved

I stand, even if it is alone
And will refuse to break
Even in death

In death, you will see
What life did not deem
You fortunate enough, living

Temple of Artemis;
Steal the cheese,
But remember
It isn't free!
For Artemis is always hunting!
Hunger.
But who puts out the dairy?
Wisdom.

For the kid who doesn't
Feel the need to thieve.
For the outsider of the pack;
For who wanders back
Carrying foodstuffs
They foraged,
They collected.

This is a leader.

"For why did you not steal, coward?!"
"I am not cowardly."
"Not fit then, lackey!?"
"I can lift, I can run."
"Then what was it?"
"The others couldn't."
"Your kind then, eh?!
You're kind then, eh!?"
"I'm good
As long as 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥."

It is for the stranger of the temple
Who is no stranger to the temple!

One who cares for the altars, one & all.

Despite the hardships we endure,
And of the misfortune visited upon us,
There is much opportunity for joy
If we are brave enough to discover it
And venture to uncover it.
Friendship like romanticism
Giving us momentum,
And belief like passion
Giving us objective.
But will you make the journey
Or settle where you have started?
Will you call home wherever you landed?

you have actually destroyed me as a person
i was thinking the other day
it really doesn't matter, to you
since you never saw me as one anyway
just your "favorite"

there was something i wanted write
some thing i wanted to make right
but in the end, i lost sight
and moved on

there were many things i wished to do
many a thing that would've borne fruit
but nearer the finish, my light grew dimmish
so i moved on

you told me there was never
an answer to the question "forever"
but death knows different
because we move on

and there is no trying now
no sense in staving off the dying, anyhow
a distance merchant comes to pick up his purchase
of a bid you can't out

a tree sits,
outside my window.

autumn greets, hello

green, turns to orange,
and things previously flourished,
now go
down below

i guess that's it
cause we both know
how cowardly you are
you can be maimed and marred
and still stay stone faced
without so much as a reaction
though you'll need that
considering you can't help from going back
to that pissant who beats
because he's still of some use to you

So far as I see things today,
You cannot have a policy
Centered on ambiguity
And expect people
To take you at your word!
Even take you as being serious!

Seriously, you guys! Seriously!
There's a monster on the way!
To borrow from an absurdist, comedic series.

Yet, the point was lost anyways!

Roses fall, silent;
In moonlight, like pouring rain.
On the leaves, dew hangs

crawling into a crevice
to call home
a cave in the side of a hill
carved out long ago
eons before i was conceived

bedding underneath the rocky ceiling
that fire gives way with a tango
of flames bouncing here and fro
dancing all over

what is peace
a prelude to conflict
the calm before the storm
one crisis
to the next
the human memory is limited
how blessed we are that it is
with how awful life can be

should i give up
on thoughts of us
as us
and not separate

call it bust
and quit
cause i'm ****
and a liar

stressin, cause i'm guessin
every moment
what you do
on fire

desire
is you
and pleasure falls through
no kiss compares

spring breath, for these winter lungs
your warm lips
the feeling of your hair
as i run my fingers

and share
every thought
even if you don't
or care

i come correct
and direct
straight from the heart
can pour out my chest

what's in my head
is a terminal of tracks
trains rushing past
with no destination

procrastination
and set my interal clock
back, one time last
rescind the old, new revisions

forget what came prior
close your eyes
when you tire
so close them, forever

no coming down now
trying to reach you
through the silence
has me wondering how
they did it in the past
back in the day
"simpler" times
of things denied
ages long of repression
regression, into what we were
like is the fashion of the day

The ones you worship, in truth
Not in the words written by men.
They do not care for falsehoods of the physical
Meant to veil the true nature of your soul.
The mendacities of the mind.
These are as city streets, a
Beautiful bonsai, meant to be
Nurtured with fostered growth,
And cleansed of all *****, evil.
To trim away at dead branches
Rotted wood, that would otherwise
Hurt what has its roots
Through every fiber of your being.
The reverberations are felt
Throughout eternity; the
Things you feel, think, & do.
You know of enlightenment,
Great messiahs and prophets
Spoke of it until men killed them.
The words for you to free yourself,
They are there.
Further back than these books today
That only steal from what was written.

Longing for the land of my lineage
I am dying here, in Beggar Country
Here, where fools act the wise
Pseudo Intellectualism steadily on the rise
Where the disease celebritism has took hold
Forced out the tried and true for the shiny yet old
Where the idiom
The more things that change, the more remains the same
Is unquestionably fact
I long for Ireland
I long to go back

Give me land that's green
And rolling countryside
Give me tide to rival hell's fury
And people that mean well, amid gales so dreary
I miss fog
Like that kicked up by the mire

Give me land that's hungry
Give me people that's tired

If evidence is incrimination,
Then fleeting art is an exoneration.
Like pictures drawn in the sand,
Like lightning turning sand to glass;
As though a constellation were made from a man,
As though a mule became a golden ***.

And so should the strongest
Make love to the link worn delicate?
In that communion,
As one to another companion,
We seal the cracks & breaks
That have started to leak.
We bind what made us weak.
We champion truth
And honor accuracy;
Don your hood,
But don't go robbing.
Love passionately, but love gently.
Do so with forthright honesty,
Do not play at it or fake it
Lest you forsake it.
From what seems as less than
We shall reveal the hidden,
As a marvelous miracle unwinding.
It's all perspective,
For though I think them no greater
They are more than certainly my equals.
I would live for them as I would die for them,
One & all.

God I'm a cynic
at times
I want the world to burn,
I want to die
look up in the sky
and think of the limitless possibilities
everyone out there
hurting
so many possibilities
and joy seems
so distant

Naked death
Unclothed, unrobed
Scythe still sheathed
Christ unrisen
God
In his infinite wisdom
Stayed his hand
And the Cosmos remained silent

i find myself to be a contentious person
because my big mouth
never shuts
but there's a lot of good coming out
that just gets interlaced with some bad
well-meaning, albeit, not exactly thought out
thoughts
that get espoused before they're finished
i'm a rushed man
amid no rapids

The odd thing
About the constant moving
Of a life grown up on the road

Is the people you meet
Know you will leave
And so you get their best

However brief

Many armed & many mighty,
A congregation of heads
Taking countless different faces.
As like the nine-tailed fox
Or the regenerative hydra,
Like a whisper from a daimon or seraph.
What an elusive cast overseeing this dominion,
In & out there, everywhere.
Those related to physics,
As like inertia & momentum.
To width & to volume.
Time & energy.
The biological & inert systems.
In the scatterings & distributions
And in the combinations & coalescences,
The raindrop to the puddle.
Islands among the sea,
All with some pulse or vibration
And a resonate frequency.
The chain-reactions at lengths which,
By our perspective,
Span seemingly in excession of infinity.
We are flickering candles
Cursed to decipher dripping wax,
Tracking the days of oil left.
We are pollen to by used by the colony
To construct & fortify the hive,
To feed the young.
Who are we to pick the flower
Thinking it will make us blossom?
To eat of the peach, to pick the apple,
But discard the seed
And rob another's potential?
To burn the bush & brush,
Drain the wetlands,
And sow devastation.
Eviction of the natives off their land
After the destruction of their homes.
What is man not, if not an animal?
What is a man, if not an animal?
What then is an animal if there is not some thought which bares resemblance to such a concept?
And if so; since we are made up of that which is organic in nature,
Metallic, and mineral-
It is not outside the realm of possibility
That other such forms of matter
Could indeed be capable.
Without the pretext of plausibility;
Like Eudoxus, in the disparity between
Correctly framing concentric spheres
And mistakenly claiming geocentricism.
It's a big world we know of
And a much larger universe.
Do plants scream
At the pain of a leaf torn?
Do trees look after their neighbors?
Likewise then, there is such constraint,
As like a straight jacket,
In that total adherence
To thought subjugated to concept
Looking for definition & context
Without daring inference or experimentation.
We'll get some things accurate
Even if there are missteps or failures,
But it's imperative we recognize them.
Thumbing around the galaxies
Searching for an answer
To the question of purpose,
But you're right where you stand.
I'm not sure how this started,
Exactly how this began,
And my memory of the journey
Is like that of the end.
If I were a captain,
If I were a white whale.
Cut the nets,
Ditch the harpoons,
Raise anchor,
Break sail.
If I were master,
If I moved to Bremen.
I'd scratch with claws,
Bare teeth & bite,
Kick with hoove,
Give chase & crow.

Were it that I could remember.

trust is earned
respect is earned
adoration and love
and just as easily
burned
when it's something you scorn
forlorn
the track i drive
treads worn
weather the storm
but not for much longer

and i fear when seasons
and anything in particular
changes
its rooted far from rational explanation
reason removed, because i know
change is good
and those things that come with it
i know, i know
twelve thousand fold
for how long have i been told
fearing of change
is folly
when life is change
odd and strange
as paintings by dali

he cries once
it's all she needs
he's cried countless times
over her
but he's a freak

Blackheart by the bed,
Blackheart next to me.
Lying here with you

Forest floor, underbrush abound;
The light sprinklings of winter found.
Snow kissed scenery, that
Whether cold be dreary
Still seems the more dreamy, than
Tracing each step.
These frigid months of death-
Before life springs back
Bringing fresh greenery

i have the courage to ****
and i've instilled the will
through a drip
and still
concentrated
focused
gnawing,
till i've had my fill
and the house of cards
crumbles

i really feel numb
a kind i can't shake
the kind that makes you dumb
because your wish is to feel
even if it puts your life at stake
every risk you take
despite the missteps
and many mistakes

Not a kiss to tell of,
Just hot lust;
Aching to feel her
Lips, around-the-clock

one man's hell is another's heaven?
a reference
to something I said when we were younger
and dumber
it's true, i think the world of you
but what good does it do

for you?

I ask you, what is math?
What are equations?
Factored life.
I charge it is living,
Senseless pained observations which we must make
So as to live another day, so as not to perish early
And die before a just time;
The degrees of life are right.
Man must stand *****, stiffen your spine,
But remain relaxed.
Straighten out your ethics, your morals;
Never forget from where you came.
Your ancestors, this planet.
That you are just in another herd.
No really different than any other animal,
Only in our intelligence.
Which is itself, a gift.
So give thanks to mother nature.
She could use it

It's ******* disturbing.

I wake up tired,
My body aching.
I just stop sleeping.

News, coffee.
Planet encyclopedia,
Thesaurus cigarettes
And dictionary breakfasts.
Slices of rhetoric
With some kind of spread of intellect -
For lunch?
Dissertative sandwiches.

Grains of perspectives
In something over-marinated.
I just stop eating.

It matters not.

put yourself in my boots
is that something you can do
and look through
my view
at how things rest
and you'd ask too
is there any use?

I don't stop
Crying, when others
Enter the room.
I just cry quietly
Or laspe into
A silent weeping.

Everything I say, I never believe.
Then, why speak?
It is paradoxical,
That is the purpose

That when you encounter this
You show the cheek, and
Continue to speak your truths.
To not let another, shy you away
From heartfelt honesty.
The beliefs held at the soul's root

To be true to no one else,
But reality
The harsh things that stand
As obstacles for our race
The species run, now from us
Nature rendered with disgrace

I have no fear of anyone who opposes me,
Shall I live? Forever, I am
****** to die, regardless
Of the life I lead. So,
To nihilism and cynicism; should I cling?
Or fight for my ideals and beliefs?
What is it, to fight? To be violent, to the pacifist;
To resist violence, with pacifism.

I fear no man that would oppress me,
Shall you live? Never, would I
Bend the knee before being
Brought to kneel. Rightly,
You can **** me
But what I die for lives on;
Drown in the wake
Of those that love,
Those that bleed

What peace allows;
Time to think, of
What freedom means

It's a funhouse of smoke and mirrors,
Where the unnatural angles & fumes
Have clearly affected their proprietors.
It's an old-timey, ****** circus;
The performing artists are mismanaged
By ringleaders who may be animals.
It's a rigged boardwalk game;
The hoop's too small or pegs too thick,
Baskets too tight or ***** too corpulent.
You can hit it square on,
Swing the hammer with a force sufficient,
But the bell hasn't been ringing.
Grab a hotdog,
Order a slice,
Get your popcorn & crackerjacks,
Your cotton candy & cream iced.
That sugar is a rush,
Like laffy taffy freebased off of a fish which is Swedish.
Get in your distractions,
Cause I don't forsee you winning.

everyone comes and goes
it's no surprise then
i'm really only confortable
on my own
so leave
i didn't need you anyway
wait and see how far i go
emotionally
a pencil thin man
they're in there
highly concentrated
volatile to the touch

Whittle with my teeth
Shovelheads and pitchforks,
I give toothpicks what for.
Thin ****** in suits
Will get what's coming to them;
When these hardened hands
And sore jaw,
Finally give in

i'm *******
******* off
and don't talk for a week
**** man
i should just walk
this **** is weak
anxious attachment
detach
cause you can't say
anything you mean
and acts
don't back
what you do