Aquaduct ©

A river in the sky runs pure over a terrestrial path in stark contrast to it’s environment.
Sullenly it sits unkempt and unnoticed, offering little more than shade to passers by.
A beacon of technilogical advancement it stands tall over a sun drenched landscape, worthless to those who’s thirst is not quenched by grandeur.

April 2, 2009 8:31 AM

Magnolia

As a little guy I often found solace in the very top of a magnolia tree that grew to about 60 ft in our front yard. It was steadfast and constant when no one or nothing else seemed to be. Something about the embrace of fragrant branches that softly swayed me in the breeze just made it better. This place high in the branches offered an escape like no other. There were colonies of little ants to observe up there, cicada shells to collect and endless opprotunities for my G.I. Joe’s to ambush each other from repelling lines or parachutes. As an adolecent I found myself becomong very much like my magnolia. Getting taller by the Summer and limbs growing thick and strong. It must have counted a few thousand chin-ups on it’s lower branches. Now looking back I really miss that tree. But most of all I am thankful for those years we shared. Because now when my little one climbs up using my strong limbs and I sway her like the breeze I am reminded of how lucky I am to have the chance to break that cycle of absence. How lucky I am to be her magnolia.

The Path ©

What do you do when you have reached a point on your chosen path that you finally look up and realize that despite your great sense of accomplishment over the distance you’ve traversed, you still can’t help feeling consumed by the dreadful realization that until now you haven’t looked up long enough to realize that perhaps you’ve been following the wrong path?

A dreadful thought indeed. What to do? Avert your eyes and mindlessly trudge on in hopes that somewhere along the way your chosen path might converge with a point on the path that your heart seeks? Or begrudgingly continue onward in spiteful parallelity with the path you now yearn for? Do you about-face and take that “Heart Road” regardless of the consequences? The nonviscous nature of this particular slope is quite daunting indeed. Trudge on then. Too far to turn back now, too much at stake. But is it sensability and a martyr’s spirit that drives that willingness to sacrafice? Or is it the very same fear that kept you from following your heart when you plotted your course to begin with?

Ah yes, Fear. Mortal enemy and constant companion. How serendipitous and ironic to discover that the very thing keeping you on the path you now travel is the very same thing that kept you off the path you wished to be on in the first place. An indentured servitude to a master who leaves you free to devise and construct the boundaries for yourself. Oblivious, you’ve dutifully gone about the task at hand. Making sure to calculate all the risks, insulate all the leaks. Fortification of a stronghold of the utmost integrity, impenetrable and steadfast. All to guard your delicate psyche against the hurtful advances of the unknown.

It would seem that irony is a most delectable dish indeed, when the very frailty you so vigorously protect is caused by nothing other than the lack of stimulation you would otherwise get from the interaction with the unknown. A self inflicted atrophe of the psyche brought about by your very own armorment against it’s remedy. Countless risks you’ve craftily avoided, like so many poison arrows you rendered them flightless and impotent before they ever left the quiver. So many conflicts you’ve neutralized, avoiding both the potential for getting hurt and the priceless knowledge gained either way had you only peered out from behind that battery.

Fear, it would seem, is the ultimate oxymoron. A lethal antivenom, a cancerous cure. The driving force behind one’s own stimulation anhorexia.

Depth of Perceptions

As the cold creeps in I am emboldened by sight of my breath in the air.
As the light breaks through I am deafened by the sound of my retinas retreating.
As the signals cross over I am charged by the jolt of megahertz expanding.
Again I feel as if there is some substance in this vacuum, some destination beyond the void.
Breathing, seeing, hearing, feeling. Expansion ad infinitum. Welcome to the machine.

Lizard King

So they let me speak…its funny how stuff seems to work out in time…
So they let me be….its funny how one realizes their worth in time…
You know….maybe i am worth something….something….
In fact…I am worth it all….
I am you know…..worth it all….
I can’t deny the hurt…..two hands cross………two feet bled…..why
Cardboard against cinders………the hum of reality sets in….
i believe there is reality……ride the snake……ride the snake…
i am the lizard king….oh…..that’s already taken……but i believe ……..i can see evey thing……i am the lizard king…………somewhere among this broadcast there is truth…I will find you….we will exist..

Ode’ to Don Juan

Juxtaposed to the fields of rationale sits a plain awash in bliss.
Adjacent to this a mind might find sustenance on which to exist.
Parallel in time yet broader in scope this place is hard to obtain.
Mirroring dreams like schitzophrenic thoughts surely I must be insane.
Flanking your reason lies the simple truth, behind its foggy yellow veil.
Countering your nature until you can see , serving knowlege from a bottomless pail.

Zero

And then there was one.The one to beat,the one to be the one to see.
From drowning in obscurity to treading the waters of futility. Only one.
It looks like binary to me. The twos trying to be ones surrounded by zeros.
I’ll stick with zero. Innocuous and symetrical. Infinite yet nonexistent.
The cohesive structure that binds them all together, the ones.
Fighting so hard to fend off the twos and not become the zeros.
So circular this process it pays tribute to the purpose of the struggle.
So ironic that the very goal within the goal is fighting to become something that wouldn’t exist if it were not for what you already are.

Self Preservation

Serperate your soul from me to elevate your existence.
Replicate your sorrow for me to alleviate its persistence.
Inundate your senses with me to sterilize your thoughts.
Correlate those dreams of me and realize the costs.
Concentrate on leaving me as you gaze into the mirror.
Abbreviate your time with me, the haze will get much clearer.

Observer

And he just sat there you know? Flicking the lid on that lighter to the beat of some tune no one had ever heard but him. You could almost hear the thoughts burning a hole right through his closed eyelids. It was almost as if he were some other place altogether, just the shell of a man. He just sat there, impervious to the chaos happening around us. Strangely, I felt as if perhaps out here amongst the chaos was actually a much safer place than wherever he was.

Here

Fertile fields sit fallow in my mind.
Current topics waste away in their place.
A vacuum of cosmic proportions inhabits this space.
Conundrum defines it in kind.
Beliefs and hypocrisies are confronted.
The balance is shifted for naught.
The virtue not worth what you’ve fought.
Steady the hand you have stunted.
Thanks given to all you have seen.
Cursed by the path you chose.
Indignant you turn up your nose.
Your worth be realized by where you’ve been.