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211

Creative Endeavors / Might be consensual...A poem.

« on: June 18, 2003, 10:40:38 am »

Thanks Mal and Andrea: )

212

Creative Endeavors / Random thoughts.

« on: June 17, 2003, 09:57:11 pm »

Lets talk. He lifted his cup of coffee. The horses head rolled off, what a great reality. To realize falseness is created only when light is shed on ignorance. Knowledge is the possession of a blind woman. Men too may possess it, but perhaps I shouldnt speak for other sexes. I speak for humanity though, and I hope these words do not smear that. The grass turned brown, and school children celebrated their picnic. Boys stared at girls breasts and they wondered about their own sexuality. The old woman stared, never sensual, but always intimately sexual. These are all memories, of a single moment, a single moment that was several moments, an infinite series of moments when you take into account perception. I am sure this has been said a thousand times, I have never taken the time to research it, and besides what they say, it does not provide quite the release for me that typing my own story does. The story of small things that last forever, big humans suffocated by nothing while thirsting for everything. Hominids, questioning their own species even before the archaeologist could redefine just who our parents were.
Glass houses. Rocks of water. See, my glass house isnt so vulnerable. My contradictions, well they are too comfortable to be anything other than convenient, we mustnt question them. That crying little girl that deserves so much more pain than she already has, well she is a sympathetic character, I am not ashamed to cry along with her. We cry for death, and we shun the life that searches so openly for a way to live. Stone minds are stoned, revealing some softness that really does not exist at all. And parents celebrate mothers Day while their children are being killed by the very traditions their parents uphold. Let me state something that just may have been stated already, depending on your perception of course, dont question it. Throw your rocks, watch them bounce off. Ultimately though, throwing only takes your arms from you. Numb as they are with the pain of repetition.
Was he innocent? Why must we pass judgement when children are guilted? Why should I feel guilty when the mistakes we make are the result of our own attempts? Attempts that defied a regimented life. Attempts that spit at a godless world. A world which turns round for simplicities sake. Random thoughts. This is consciousness, isnt it?

(Not finished)

Please Respond: )

213

Creative Endeavors / Might be consensual...A poem.

« on: June 17, 2003, 09:24:43 pm »

Wrote it a few weeks ago..some of you might have seen it already.. but oh well: ) Thanks for taking the time and all.

Who are celebrities
When holidays
Are traditions
Built on the crime of yesterday?
Looking for metaphor
In souls which are devoid
Of the life
They once may have had.
Near death experiences
Have been discredited.
So atheists are viewed
As close to death.
These little fucks
Are one with death
They think they beat it.
Little kids look back on life with tears
Searching for justification
Why couldnt someone have beaten them?
Depressed without consequences.
Fags' who die for the sin
Which is a pure want
Until the Catholic Church said want is a sin.
So Senators can be racist
If the victim
Is a man whose existence
Can't be explained in heredity.
Zebras in zoos
Their stripes mocking the tour guide.
Little kids got their notebooks
And this all makes sense
If we become the raper
Then the rape
Might be consensual.

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