The future is here and you are not what you thought you’d be. Because “man never is, always is-to-be,” we are a rushing stream, the depths of our valley is our legacy.
You espouse the virtues
of going to the Room With the View.
You always know
You always knew.
Where the streets are made of melted jewelry
stolen from sinners like me
after we’re dead
Lost in the abstract
fill in the blanks with black
and call it faith, but
it’s just giving up in a way.
god is a desert sand
and he is in me.
Leaving only cinders
and trembling hands.
he is in me.
god is an Idea that grows
until I’m not sure if I am
the thinker or the thought.
god is unafraid to look upon
and to pursue the dark places
step by stumble.
And he is in me
pushing me inside out.
the restless passion —
is in me.
Let’s pretend we live in a world where everything matters,
and everyone is somewhere along they way to their “greatness,”
somewhere between the beginning and the end of their quest for meaning
and the quest results are real.
There is an ending worth working for.
The things they say do matter,
but the things they do matter most of all.
Achievements are collected,
deeds, habits, thoughts and such,
and they’re on their way!
All of a sudden its a race.
Each person is busily working on their particular to-do-list,
ignoring each other to the best of their ability.
The only interactions are now bitter,
people become hindrances, rather than friends
targets and objectives rather than family.
The Holy Assigner of Missions is watching; the only opinon to mind:
the Great Grader of Assignments’.
‘What others think of me will not matter when I complete the
goal that is set before me!’ they think.
‘I am his most illustrious completer
of tasks, surely I am in a better place than they.
I will be honored, revered for my tenacity in Tedium
and for my mastery of Menial!’
And still, one who dies
stays in his grave.
With some imaginary debt
left sorely unpaid.
To no one’s disappointment.
Bored with every second hoping something changes
and dreaming so big that it doesn’t fit in.
The ringing in your ears is always your fault
that shouting that you hear can all be drowned out.
So people cut it out, cut it off and destroy it
hoping all along what they kill is you, but
stomping on your heart like nothing really matters
and pulling out your hair you decide you’ve had it:
People tell you to save ’til you think you’ve earned it
keep your torments in ’til you feel you deserve them
don’t waste a second being someone who is worthless
if do your damn job then someone will reward it.
What ever happend to those pictures you painted
and hung up on the fridge just because you made them?
Well, there’s nothing like a mountain standing in your way
to make you feel small enough to appreciate
every single second that you aren’t in the plains
and all those wooden bridges that you left in flames.
Here’s another sad story, another broken heart
another tragic ending right from the start:
You never learned a thing while you were in school
you always acted out lashing out at the rules.
But there in is a lesson that you’ve yet to learn:
There will always be something important on a page you’ve yet to turn.
And some soggy sunday will be your last
Did you die in your sleep? Or just stop existing.
You can hope it doesn’t happen you can hope you’re good
enough to fix the problems you have hidden in your blood,
but no one is immortal, no one will survive
the ending is eternal, but so are all the lies.
Crawling and spinning your web,
weaving and repeating
in an endless spiral.
Catch us, your prey,
and consume us.
day by day by day.
Eventually your eternal
web will be littered
with all of our vague remains.
Your claws click,
tock tick, tock tick.
Your eyes are black
Catching and eating
I might break your heart,
Or you might break mine,
Or maybe we’ll lose that spark,
To the immensity of time.
I love you now,
That’s all I have to offer,
Time is electric we can use it to glow,
In this moment, together.