Verisimilitude - Weekly Poem

Everything I see is just reflected light
Everything I feel is just atoms repelling my atoms
Simple magnetism denotes my place in my world
It’s all a trick of the senses, nothing is as it seems
My world is an illusion I can’t escape

We are all made of stars
Everything when you get down to it
Is the same as everything else
I have rocks as bones
Blood rivers for veins
Craters of failures
Scars of my past mistakes
A series of extinction events
Everyday is a fossil, something to be remembered
My past, memory a series of voids in rock
Someday I’ll be found, carbon dated to the year
I was in my basement with an empty bottle of wine

***

I feel like I can say this all better. Or just find one way to say it without having to repeat myself by saying the same thing but only in a different way. Or maybe I just needed a direction or an end in sight. I know what I’m saying but I’m just rambling because I don’t know where I’m headed with this. It’s like I’m just saying that the sky is blue, and then explaining why the sky is blue. Damn. Writing is hard.

New Poems will be going up on Weekends because I work during the week.

Also I think I'm going to take another stab at this poem tonight. Maybe.

Links: 10-18-10

1. Plastic Monitors Itself - intelligent plastic?

2. The Obesity Problem Solved - apprently its just our brains that are junk food addicts. Brains want suger fat and salt so it forces our body to consume those things. Then it needs more and more and more. Or something like that.

3. Where Stars are Born - like looking into the past or what the early universe looks like

4. Silencing Genes - interesting life stuff

5. Flexible LEDS that can go Under the skin - future fashion? or body art?

Weekly Poem 12: Just A Riff

I need an anchor like this poem needs one
A howling who or malevolent moloch
Or maybe a dedication to someone
A gentle soul a met along the asylum path


***

it's incomplete I know, but was just a thought, a fragment. Something anything to meet the deadline I dunno.

Weekly Poem #?: Lazy Sundays

I woke up and I had an idea
I set the water to boil
And emptied the tea pot of unfinished tea and soiled bags.
Brimming like the water boiling
Of thoughts and inspirations
Maybe it was indigestion or leftover dreams from the night
Or just a mind coming to terms with the noon day sun blinding it
But I sat down dreaming of Corso
Haunted by waspy roman catholic guilt
Even though I’m Slavic Orthodox Athiest Canadian
Trying to hard to make it seem more like a poem
And after my third cup of tea, black now bitter
Wired up,
I forgot what I was trying to say
Or what the point was
Here is this as a consolation

Links: Real Nature

1 Next Nature intro essay by Bruce Sterling its about the way we view nature compared to the actual state of nature. Also seems to be a permanent hub on the subject. Will have to look back on it.

Spiritual Lobotomy

Imagine now, a spiritual lobotomy
There is only body, I know
We are physical machines!
But still there in the bottle
A tiny little pill like a seed
Was supposed to save me
Blossom bloom in my insides
Take away ALL the bad
Leaving me somehow whole/or/Leaving me whole, somehow
Better than it was before

Imagine now, a hole somewhere
You can’t see it only feel it/or/It can’t be seen only felt
Like fumbling around the dark (don’t like this line but will leave it in for now)
Trying to find something that’s gone
How do you explain losing your soul
Or the walking dead, to be nothing.
To go from feeling everything, anything
To nothing, nothing, nothing.

My greatest fear is tiny pill
That could rewrite my blueprints
To make the building stand on its own
But takes away its character
The ivy that are pulling down the façade
But give life to cold dying grey stone.

***

the spots that contain /or/ that means I wrote all alternate liine. So its between those two lines what ends up in the final product. I really like this. Just need to up the passion I think in it. Also need to just edit it through, I think I can add more imagery and poetic stuff. Who knows? Do you? That would imply I have readers.

Life: A Response

Life is physical it is brutal it is short. It is fucking ugly. We’re organs, rotting food, shit, contained by bone, controlled by nerves, wrapped in muscle, protected by our skin. We’re rotting meat essentially. We fucking smell. We’re disgusting really no matter how you try to pretty it up. Living is dying and falling apart at the seams. You see its not about it being half full or half empty. Nothing is black and white like that. That’s life. It’s on one hand a beautiful thing, but how do console that with all the misery in it. How do you bridge the gap between the kid that’s bullied and beat up on the playground everyday and the beautiful life you may live? It may be about perspective but how the fuck do you tell that to the kid that’s getting the shit kicked out of him? Is that just about the way he looks at it? Okay maybe he’s just looking at it wrong right. That’s the thing I can’t reconcile with the simple life is beautiful thing. Maybe its just people are completely fucked. Maybe if we just cut out the human condition from the whole life thing I can agree that it’s beautiful and sweet and harmonious or whatever happy tag line you want to give it. You take out the human element and you get rid of hate, war, greed, and all the assholes.