Thinking about mortality and the love of creating.
Often conflicted and quite difficult to please, a complicated pursuit to remain busy and create overtakes. It’s aimless, but fueled by the imagination of a mind never silent. Thoughts without sleep. A perpetual anxiety holds on the brink of psychological collapse. Everlasting depression lingers in the background with awareness of mortality and the shortness of time. All the things wanted but only few will unfold before the red curtain drops, the lights shut off and the stage plunges to darkness. Countless tail-chases to the priceless and of meaning. Naming it purpose. Hoping it doesn’t come across as…
Electronics broadcasting from our pockets, handing us opinions and beliefs. Critical thinking and self reflection is a thing of the past. Media slavery is the new wave. The new order.
Pocket mirrors. Clever image. Surfing while catching waves. Searching for shelter. For cover. Dodging rays. Pixel boxes with dark displays. Projected normality. Morality is stray.
Minds stranded far away. Used to pay for electric food. To feed on the endless stream. Turned flood, we’re dragged and taken. Awaken washed up together on a beach with cardboard oceans and salt for sand.
Confused and fragmented we obey chirping Bluejay. Let them lead us. Seed us to repeat like parrots misunderstanding freedom. Thinking the caged bird sings ‘cause joy. Meanwhile…
Stop making up excuses and deceiving yourself with lame reasons why you don’t find time to do the things you want to do (But somehow still find time for Netflix binging, video games or parties) and get to fulfilling your dreams before your on the other end of your life and its too late.
Life as a snake. Chip away skin not yet shed. Early bird gets the worm. Earlier slither gets the feather. Make it squirm. Life gets better. Fighting is how to learn. Bad weather static under rain clouds. Can’t fly when the wind shouts. Wait for lightning to ground them down. Whining. Plotting. Sounds in the dark. Alarm. Harming. The trick is the charm. Like Ted for lunch. Then dead. The necromancer draining corpses like old cancer. Farming skill points. No cheat codes. Break the game. No cheap modes. Rank to hard. Try harder. Craft the scars. Ain’t skipping scenes. Gonna figure out what it all means. No walks through parks or skips through fields. Just sprints with swords and shields. Down the middle where the…
Hidden in the dark a whisper calls on a spark to drag the dreamers far Off shore to the void, course of everlasting noise, poised in lasting joy Angered echoes try to detract, destroy, that’s exactly the point To push through reveals what one is meant to do, who’s made their choice They’ll try to stop the truth, distractions to avoid The powers will only shower the hours with creative towers if one endures the callous Howls like wolves, keep chasing the meal, effort turning the fiction to real Lessons lessen to the voices stuck stressing, investing in second guessing
With logic tossed out the window and reasoning a thing of the past, the outrage culture takes center stage in our media run society. This is a short ranty poem on the subject.
Guilty conscious ringing off alarms in the darkness. It’s haunting Daunting the shifty nonsense. Swinging pendulums lost in the crossroads Demon deals hidden by the cornfields. The chase of success is too real Flaunting the wrong things ‘till the swan sings It’s been too long since cashing that check from reality. It’s caustic A cost that won’t stick. Caused by old tricks. Stone moss that grows thick Structural failure, neglect, the behavior Rejected by the savior, reasoning. Calculating to slave work Seasoning the flavor of…