fisher king's wasteland

in this maelstrom of paradise fantasy turned reality becomes illusion a now forever all of the nows and this now, forever becomes the reality, is the reality for it's more real than the figment of fantasy than those outside our cabal of communication our whirlpools of discourse swirling in droplets of rainbow pleasure drizzling over our prehistoric primeval sunset [ original post ]

little miss muffet sat on her arse eating her yoghurt. along came a spider and sat down beside her, and said: "hi! my name's rupert."

who are you monkeys who spend half of your lives complaining to yourselves and the other half complaining about having no time to live? when you're angered by the very unfairness that you yourselves cause because you're too scared to stop? what right have you with your loathsome narcissism to your fears of imagined injustice when you have real problems that you sophistically explain away? you push, and you stamp, and you whine on the bus, in the elevator, in the food line but you never stop for just one minute and think, maybe i can change maybe we all can change just as soon as you stop hating your own voice of reason

the walls are shaking    the ground is shaking rattling, rattling      or is it me? no matter, i'll go outside    and lighten up, and breathe deeply          and then, when the shaking stops i'll go back inside to deal with the mess

a villanelle don't work too hard, nor study too long there's a limit to stress and strain dream, play, eat, dance, and do no wrong breaking our backs won't make us strong there is no need for so much pain don't work too hard, nor study too long we are born marching to the gong stomping our feet in mud and rain dream, play, eat, dance, and do no wrong there's always time for one more song one more sweet beat, one more refrain don't work too hard, nor study too long there's no need to try to belong in this world only love should reign dream, play, eat, dance, and do no wrong we can all nicely get along when we seek more than Stuff to gain don't work too hard, nor study too long dream, play, eat, dance, and do no wrong

set up server kill bugs open jars catch up on readings for tomorrow it's a curse it's an affliction this love of the truth the worst addiction forcing changes in my diction and all other kinds of friction i overcompensate for my stupidity by being right all the time with others whose eyes i'm too tired to prise open, i'll try anyway, seeking surprise i wonder how many of us do surmise that most of what we understand are mere lies that we need because our brains are too small to contend with a world filled with a hopeful-less love-and-hate blend living in a country run by little girls and boys pretending to be grown-ups with their guns and other toys their batons and iron bars and nails are joys to behold, in their wisdom in crushing armed ploys two sides of a fence each shaking and braying to protect egg shells of ideologies that just can't keep playing can't survive in a world that doesn't end tomorrow with an i-told-you-so and

how does it feel to live amongst the trees? to know how all the branches grow? to know how all the branches should grow? how does it feel to know you see true? and to know what i see, what i should feel? how does it feel to see the tree for the forest? and to carve your name in its bark in every tree's bark? how does it feel to hang upon it your one-word poetry? for you to find for everyone to find?

what do i know of equality but the anger at seeing my brother grab on to insults flung spitefully, and, brushed aside, misunderstand why other mother won't take her meals with us at the table? what do i know of equality of dignity, or of respect in those afraid to lose? when i walk on the pavement and i'm too slow to be the first to step off and let the other pass and too slow to smile and too slow to love what do i know of equality marred by desperate, dastardly acts? even as i pretend to understand the cause and hear hot, angry whispers of my own but not my own and allow those words that in my ears ring harsh and hateful what do i know of equality so far removed from these troubles and tribulations? so far away, because i'm too blank to love, or be loved equality? did we talk about a race, a usurper? incensed veins with riotous humour? who taught hate and self-loathing and resentment? who finally realized their mistake too late?