Circles rotating into the sky–the eyes of the future
No one really knows anything anymore
I went to see the aftermath, the after math, the af ter ma th, the a f t e r m a t h
The witness was cold, it was hard, the sky was gray and foreboding
In the eyes I saw it
In the eyes it was clear
The aftermath was all
Black eyes and patches
stripes and rotational degrees of progression
everything halted into a standstill
At that moment I could see
See all
All you could see
Falsifications of it all
I wish I could recapture that train of thought I had a little while ago
where was it going
if only I had written it down
if only I had the presence of mind to write it all down
I wish I could encapsulate the moments that I forget
where my mind was open
the valve opened all the way
and I knew every single thing I needed to know
but those moments pass like sleek white clouds over the blue sky
they soar on and over to the next moment
inside the kettle pot they steam up and escape forever
evaporating in the wind
and all I can catch is a slight wisp of it
as it floats into the distance
and I am lost forever for it
and there is no way to recapture it
and there is nothing to do but grasp onto the little straws of it
and there is nothing left to do but…
crash burn paper mash turn monster laugh howl the circus tent falls down into the crowed
cowering in the basking rays of moon and sun the same reflection anyways
purpose moments abstract thoughts memories forgotten fun times reflections glass
purity nonsense pity laugh nondescript fleeing ions in a moment
cross stitched and wrapped around
I wish I could remember everything I need to remember
the days and nights I sat and thought
the inner discussions that led to revelations
the purposes and the points that were thrown out
I wish I could…
oh yes
I really do
but I know the future is a bleak broken shell of the past and we are
going
going
going
going
down a spiral of madness in which we can never travel back up
and I know this because
I can sense it
see it
feel it
I know this because you told me it all
you told me all of this
in a lucid dream
fading back into
the place I tried so hard
to escape
but the comfort
was just too great
slowly crawling out
I know no other way
but to let myself
slide right
back
in
what is the
ending to all of this
I think
as I slide
and I know the answer
but I just
do not
want to
hear it
So a tired little time later, a few minutes or hours perhaps. I can’t remember anymore! The sound of a million sun burnt ducks shrieking into my ears. Hell I just want to take a nap, ya know?
Enough, I was thinking about the time I typed this message, I remember it well. I was but a wee lad sitting upon a log in a forest somewhere between here and there. What a glorious time it was sitting and watching the ducks and ostriches flock and flow all over the land and air. Then the fire hit, a flash of amber and ash and purpose was struck down upon me. I must write this missive, I must! It was my duty- no, my destiny! So here it is in all of its glory, unedited and unfiltered. Whatever all that means.
Time is a commonplace enemy to man, much as the darkness is to the light. When you ponder too much and you wish and dream and think and hope and pray. Then you take a little nap, sleep on it a bit. Tomorrow will bring bigger, better ideas. Ideas that will make you famous, or at the very least content, right? Well the next day come and goes and then so does about two hundred years. Where are we now? We are at the beginning of the whole thing, only now it’s too late, time has moved on. You just think that if you could only go back, maybe, just maybe you could change everything. You could do all the things you missed out on, catch all the things that passed you by. Hold them tightly and savor their every moment. There are no do-overs, there is no going back. What has passed has passed.
That’s just it isn’t it? Every single moment lost is a heavy burden, every hour spent day dreaming about nothing. About planning on doing something you know you never will make time for. Instead it’s the same old time wasters and boring day to day nonsense. If only I didn’t need that job then I would have the time to invent a flying car! Blast it all!
You cannot redo this life, you have until you are born to until you die to make something of yourself. Wishing and hoping will get you nowhere. Time will see to that, time will destroy you. It will make you fragile and cripple, break you down, rip you apart, and spit in your face. Time tear away all of your hopes and dreams and leave you a shell of your former self. Time is not on your side, it never was and it never will be. It will undermine every opportunity; break every will, without remorse or spite. Time will kill you, it is inevitable.
Well that is that, the ending of everything. The total nonsense of our lives. Compression chambered into a few thoughts and words. The frigid truth dragged out to be beaten by the hopeless masses, confusion and ignorance fuels this mob. They march the streets at night and avoid the lampposts on the corners. Sulking in dark alleys, in-between bushes and under staircases. That is your fate, oh dearest me, to be vengeful and full of remorse due to a lack of controlling your own fate.
Twilight broken fades into the simplest of moments of clarity speckled with a few lapses of light. All constructions are abandoned and all pay has been suspended. Time ate everything and we are simply festering in its rotting belly. Verily there must be some reprieve but alas I am afraid not. Says the window washer to his squeegee as he cleans your windshield on the corner of 6th and Parkview Avenue. Crusted flecks of broken courage mirrored into a simple display of weakness. Run away to the sinking light at the end of the tunnel; try to catch it, sunset rider. There is still hope! There is still a chance to save it all! If you can just make it in time! Hurry, the light is creeping away into darkness! You can make it, run! There is still a sliver of light left, if only you could just reach it, touch it, you are so close! Aaaaallllllllmmmooooooossssssssttttttt there.
sitting thinking wondering
too much
not enough
where is the pay off anyways?
what part of me wants to go and what part wants to stay?
I need to know
so
I can
cut the
latter
out
is it not a funny thing
that things that go on
in ones own head
are not even understood
by oneself?
or how about this
drink spit gurgle
lap lap
sit and stare
at the nothing
that is over
right over
just over
there
can you see it?
I can
not
blank
I have little needles in my eyes
when they prick I twinge
I have a very false sense of security
I wrap myself inside a little paper doll and toss that out for the world to see
The eyes are the benefit
they can see the truth of it all
of nothing
everything
thing–and the falsifications of the entire earth justified in the meat
bang bang bang bang bang
All the little critters
flutter flutter
down into the sound of
my feet on the ground
patter patter
eating something or another from the sight
The sight
The sight and the mirror exploding into a million fragments of itself
and me
you and I
the entire world–the sky
All crumbling
down down down
into the sea
the infinite sea
of all the things that everyone wants to be
inside of us all
The freedom and the bondage
the nails and the hammer
bang bang bang
the sound goes into the skull and drives it all in hard
hard as can be
hard like the…
ashes from the suns cremation
filtered low on the brow
singing songs and dancing
ever so soft and low
tripping on a whole eternity
of glass blown bowls
and not a moment to soon
dimpled down earth sink
following
withered stalks of hours
sitting on the brink
flesh fire statue
yearning to the moment
crematorium blues
starting to end
silver ray oblique
clearly a sign
moons shadow
looms
ever so slightly
a step
closer to the distinction
further from the casket
blinking eyes
water
lost in the snow
frozen time icicle
revolving sectors
rehashed memories
rehearsed through
the ones forgot
limited imagination
perception xenophobe
great lengths behind
as the falling ash sets
cremate hard
on the following out
just in time for
the circled without
predetermined mass of misfit
washing the heat
away from the corpse
and as the time passes by
we all wonder why
just when we start to get it
why does it fall through
what is the purpose of thought
when it is all wiped away
in the shadow of a casket
streak silence encompass the withering oasis
what does it all mean in the end
a forgotten tomb
it all reflects the stain glass memoirs
it all passes right through
a weeded garden
two fisted anguish rotten earthed
purpose elongated rotten earthed
future dystopia rotten earthed
crab shanked warmed rotten earthed
purity lost on a turned dial knobbed
formulated discovery ascertained
part over and parted lost
a sequence unforgivable
a tiptoed triangulated forward marched
putrid is the alliance
stumped reveries
righteous
ambiguous
foot stomped march utopia dreams
forward into the revered seams
onward lost in the river of now
wretched listeners opaque the sound
what of the indescribable things that pass
right into the silence of tomorrow
what of the suffering endured
by the mites and soliloquies
of a passing moment that lasts
it lasts
lasts forever
head spin moments of glass rattled in the mirrored skulls
a crisp reckoning of lost proportions falling into a dystopian future filled with castaway
crawling onward to a future so unknown but bright as the sun
which doesn’t shine on them anymore
coarse remembermeants cascading into the minds backwards compatibilities
through and through a scorching
a time lapse
a figure eight of infinites
again
which sign leads out
no one notices they all point in the same direction
they pass unwanted
and follow a hollow skull
Welcome to bad writing! This is my webpage blog thing that I will use to post insane inane things like poems, blog posts, and maybe incoherent stories. Do not expect any of these to be any good at all, infact, your expectations should be really low.
So what is bad writing? Well it is mostly for my own amusement but if others find it interesting then great. I really don’t put much thought into what I write; things just come out like a hammer striking a laser beam directed from a planetary system light years beyond sight and the homemade missile of confused leprechauns blasts the side of a silhouetted house mired in hostility. No sir, no thoughts on this little planet of mine, just a lot of nonsense and stupidity brought to you by brunch and the letter three or maybe fourteen I am not really sure anymore. Oh God, smoke in the eye, tear duct streaming liquid and blur surrounds the optics. But whatever, no time for that now, no time for sulking it is time to truck on with this nonsense. My grammar is bad but so what? I can’t spell either but I have spell checker for that so I win! What are you going to do now? Tell me I am a terrible writer, that I make no sense? Look at the address bar, yeah, now what?
Okay, I am sorry I didn’t intend to get so defensive and mean there. It is just the point of this whole thing is well; I don’t even know anymore it’s like a clock that stopped right before the bird was to make its ear splitting escape. Trapped in a little house forever in the dark confused at its own existence wanting only to flee to a safe haven off the coast of Maine it plots, toils, wishes, and dreams. The only thing is that if it ever does break free and lives its little life where it wants to it will never know true happiness because the torment of the past will haunt it forever. Just like the time I went to the store and they ran out of toilet paper, man that sucked.
Yes I know this site is a little slow right now but I really don’t know why that is. I am guessing that it is because spiders are clogging up the cables and tubes that run to your computer, they are making webs and catching packets. Feeding off the information they breed and the little eggs sometimes go directly into your computer, have you ever noticed the spiders running around on your desktop? I am sure you have and thought you were just seeing things, like maybe it was just a shadow going across your screen or dirt. Nope, spiders are inside of your computer eating your data. You have been warned.
I don’t even know what any of that means to tell you the truth, but what I do know Is that once the life raft is set into the ocean and the boats whirlpool sinking motion line up that refuge will be very difficult and the paddles must not be dropped in the water with a splash or all hope is lost. Lost in the darkness of space is where the moon glows dimly behind clouds of ash and dust after a horrific display of mother nature, do not under estimate the power of Planet Earth, or Whiskey for that matter.
Well this didn’t turn out the way I wanted to, in fact it was some pretty bad writing* if I do say so myself. Oh well things rarely go as planned for me, and that is not a bad thing either. I hope you enjoyed this little ramble, or not, I really don’t care. bye!
*Get it? (It’s a pun! (ha ha ha))