Memoirs
Marred Mind Thoughts
I avidly wrote poems from the essence of life
to the demise and despair of death.
From arbitrary rules of the universe
to the sensibilities of nature.
My poems speak for an eternity confined to the drawers of time
the course of endless ocean lost in thought
the cries are low hushed
during the night
it all fades to a whimper
in the morning
there are no shadows to hide self doubt.
The truth is only embrace
harsh but at times sweet a reminder of reality.
Hypocracy is the ability to call anyone a hypocrite
yet not see the irony in the statement.
Morning will come
it will go with a early afternoon breeze
that caresses the mind to wander on the rest of the day.
My poems wrote a poem
as it resonates inside
like a meteorologist prediction
it has a course that can
shift
change
one that can have a drastic outcome
not even originally considered.
This is a collage of words
that inspired my poems to be pieced together.
Now they muse dimly
approaching a canvas that litters thought
in disorder
they look for order
for comfort and safety
but do not understand that chaos must exist alongside
for life to hold meaning there must be flaws
imperfections.
Diamonds are not born smooth
they are in the rough
they must be polished to be made;
made by human minds
looking for the artificiality
of culminated desireMyself and I
I look at life objectively neither the villain nor am I the hero for my hubris
My tragic flaw is indifference.
I act on the rationality of what people are inclined to act
I feel desperation to follow a norm to cast myself into the pits of Lazarus
Rise again part of machine just a simple cog following the rotation functioning without reason
My want to care arises from my mother's compassion
She cares, feels ,cries and has despair of years that life has withered away at her
Even if I can’t empathize with this pain
The illusion of emotion is but a breeze to emulate
I have life as a stage it is an act the first one is but done
I carry the burden of objectivity
I avoid conflict
I carry no real weight on a opinion because the trivial pointlessness of the reality
That I want no right to focus in the squabbles of humankind.
Neither do I want to egocentrically admire what I am
For truly I want to exist as a seer of the development of life
A hermit in space looking for infinity
I only fear death
The stream of consciousness will cease
No breath
No heart beat
No life to admire
No last contemplation
No new memories .Scientific Shenanigans
We go like oxidation and reduction
We balance like an alkaline and an acid making a neutral 7
I had this delusion this theory that was hypothesized by loosely gathered and bias data
This ideal flourished from a romanticized version of the enlightenment
It was the shenanigans of a fool hearty lab coat with crooked goggles that still
smelled of
chemicals
This was the undoing as the dying star collapsed into itself forming the void that lives in my heart
neither light nor blood can escape this pull
The black hole has ripped life from my being
The black hole is metaphorical it is a lack of hope that is being drained from my body
My mind expands like a supernova releasing energy
Thoughts racing around in a constant flowing stream swirling not always having the same
current
A nucleus harboring the harbinger of response the free will to express eccentric behavior
The catalyst that holds all reactions accountable bringing them to fruition.
Two-Face
If there was a way to be a ocean away I would be in the next plane as long as
that distance
would not dissipate then the happiness of the world would be bestowed on my being.
The torture ensues with every little grin I catch it’s like looking in a mirror how he seems to mimic me like their is no difference between us.
I refuse to acknowledge his presence parts that may bear any resemblance to link ourselves is lost on me.
We look in the future and see two different outcomes. “Success is a one way street with one victor” Yet I refuse to follow his ideology I rather believe that their is a future that can be shared people can help each other build upwards appreciating the value of society.
We may not all be rich but we will not be suffering
They will be rich there will be middle class but I don’t want to see homeless ,starving ,and poor
This is where our minds clash fighting on the fields awaiting judgement of the Valkyries.
An endless onslaught feverish and desperate not allowing one side to take hold.
A field diseased by war never on the side of the victorious the casualties so monstrous that winning will only be phantomed by the tolls paid by the innocent.
His embodiment is a monstrosity that brings only despair and calamity.
Disgust fills my body thinking about what he has done his presence is forever present within me.
Knowing he wants my place in the world with the distortion of his dystopia makes me want to thrive.
The satisfaction of keeping him at bay makes every moment of life that much more resplendent.
But in a way it is misery because he will always linger brazen with the full force of determination for revolution.
Even that ocean would not be enough.
He is me and I am him.
Road to Mexico
I was young it was dark outside I had taken a nap from being rocked to sleep inside of the vehicle. The lights from the stars were dimly ticking the sky. My mind was on the brink of dreams and reality eyelids heavy seeing flashes of the road. I drifted into sleep awoke at the first light to poke at my eye. My mother was on the cellphone she was wearing sunglasses I found this very odd it was not that bright outside for her eyes to be bothered I thought to myself. The call ended she had her face focused on the road she was very stoic with her expression and gave me quick responses. I kept staring back at her with concern no knowing if there was anything wrong then I saw a tear roll down her face making me even more curious and concerned. I kept pressing for answers after some time I she said to wait. She composed herself wiped her tears from her cheeks. All she could say was “Your grandfather is dead”
then we both stared at the empty road ahead it was just my birth day but it was his end day. I could not fall back to sleep no matter how weary my body started to feel their was conviction in my mind that I had to see him one last time.
Prom
It was a enjoyable night the lights flashed the food was good. I danced it was very interesting thing. It was hot most of the time but there was cold water to drink. As the time passed I felt tired but was not tired with the night there was after prom at main event. It was a nice affair I gave a shoot at karaoke sang Kansas Carry On Wayward Son one of my favorite songs not really sure how I sounded but oh well it was something fun to do. The night carried on I gave a shot at playing lazer tag my machine whatever it was not functioning properly which was not as fun but I didn't mind. I was at prom I had a date it was more than expected the night might fade it have already forgotten some of it. This memoir should help kick start my memory if I ever need to go back.