Tag Archives: ether

Sink or Swim?

mag 233

“Pray to God, but row away from the rocks.”
Hunter S. Thompson based on Russian Proverb

The tyranny of silence is overwhelming,

Calculated deceit for mass consumption,

Consuming souls thus creating tin men,

Travelling on iron horses, whether plane, train, automobile or boat;

Advertisers queuing up to steal the innocence of youth,

Adolescence robbed as our best and brightest,

Become dim witted without consent by a constant barrage,

Children exposed to more than 40,000 commercials a year,

Not to mention product placement and subliminal messaging,

A YEAR,

Thus, manufacturing dutiful consumers for the rest of their days.

Talking heads delivering not news,

Rather obfustication,

Newstertainment,

Filling time between commercials,

Sell, sell, and sell,

This silence, deafening,

Ringing in my ears and searing my eyes,

As I watch the disambiguation of souls the world over,

Persecution, subjugation and dehumanizing effects,

Nike, McDonald’s, Chevy and Cadbury,

Concocting and reshaping the old as new,

Manufactured scarcity and obsolescence,

Lies,

There is enough on this great Spaceship Earth,

However, not so long as growth and profit are the aim.

This silence reaches into my soul as I am,

Wrenches it, attacks and dismays it,

As I can not dismiss, as Whitman suggests,

What is vile to my soul.

Contacted daily,

Voices in my head,

Converting distant thoughts into fingers that Tango,

Flicker and flit,

Alive,

Across the keyboard,

Hoping that I may alight in another, others,

The will to journey on in the face of brutal adversity,

And an overt crookedness dressed in Sunday whites,

Great White Sharks in Sheep’s clothing,

Devouring us all,

Thus,

Discovering the strength in my own atmospheres to repudiate such guile,

Positively enchanted by the desire to live,

The will to thrive,

The power to create my own meaning,

By communing through poetry and prose,

With all who care to search for their own enlightenment,

For it must be yours,

Drawn to the fire that intensely burns deep within retinas,

Words,

As the objects of my daily affirmation,

Just as powerful and real as Cogito Ergo Sum,

Scribo Ergo Sum,

At least for me,

At least for now,

While on this earthly plain of land and sea.

I wander through your conscious and subconscious,

With delicious intent,

Feeling the inherent call of the Ether,

Ripened anxiety exposing the steadfast requirements,

To move toward the light,

Guided by a glistening shadow on the sea,

To accept life as both challenge and present,

Obstacle and opportunity,

Revealed quotidian as the choices we make,

Expose when all is said and done,

The very cornerstones that define us,

Not labels,

Defines,

Are the tomes we devour as lifeblood and return to the universe.

In these poems and prose we present,

For me from the Ether, The Muses and The Sirens,

For you, I cannot say,

For each of us record who and what we are in apt words,

For posterity,

Not our own, but instead Non Omnis Moriar,

We alone,

Are the authoritative creators of dictionaries and thesaurus’,

Personal,

Profound wanderers,

Not lost,

Just curious and seeking,

Unique,

Declaring triumphantly,

That we as emerging voices,

United in poetry and prose,

Good, bad though never indifferent,

Will never stand idly by,

As the wicked wage battle for the hearts and minds,

Of those we seek to enchant with these knowledgeable lyrics.

Words of life,

Words of sweet surrender,

Of painful exuberance,

Of intentional questions that demand answers we may never find,

We are at the vanguard of a paradigm shift that commands,

We write,

Careful to educate those souls,

Those suffer the indignity of disambiguation,

So they may reclaim, rightfully,

Their lives to live fullest and free,

As thinkers,

You determine your own design,

I as Warrior Poet,

Chosen light,

Rowing away from the rocks in the absence of God,

Standing at the ready,

To wage war with the wicked,

Will you stand with me?

Sink?

Or Swim?

SDM

Written from Photo Prompt for www.magpietales.blogspot.com

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The Importance of Muse (6)

In the infinite chaos of perpetually recycled stardust,

The remnants of the big bang reveal to me secrets,

Long misunderstood,

There is an order created by the Ether,

Readily apparent to those who have vision,

Versus those who merely see,

Those who listen,

Versus those who merely hear,

For out in that dark void there exists a vibrancy,

Resonating inside the souls of poets since time immemorial,

A resplendent beauty that unlocks a passion necessary,

To adulate the treasured honour of Muse’s presence,

Your presence,

I adore you,

I love you,

Figurative and literal,

In ways you will never, could never understand,

Despite these hopeless attempts to be

Conduit for the invisible,

Muse,

Not just the royal you, so often presented,

But the perfectly imperfect package,

That stands before me at the ready,

Laying bare your soul,

That I too may do the same,

As these words require

And my literary masters demand.

As said before,

Here, time and again,

The importance of Muse can not be inconspicuous,

For she is an overstatement of all that I deign necessary,

To prevent my emotional suicide,

Loosing my gift in a series of meager attempts,

To force what is not there,

In her absence,
Your absence,
I am nothing but a fool with words,

Though when she comes,

Touching me deep with in,

Those words spill out from me,

Seductive and instructive,

More readily than I can breathe,

Effortless as her inspiration unlocks the key,

That liberates my creative flow,

Endless,

Ebb and rip,

The gravity of her presence,

The tides lead me away from my inner storm,

Toward an awaiting Nirvana,

Whereby the touch of her lips,

Is the ambrosia from which I drink,

Understanding completely the full nature of love,

One only understood by those caught in the rapture,

And endless delight,

Of that perfect phrase,

Capturing a spirit that only you can see,

Only I,

Can see,

Muse!

It so often seems,

That between those moments,

Where splendor presents itself in veiled opportunities,

That the broken shards of me,

Cut deep,

Sending me further into an abyss,

A loving idiot savant,

Where my Black Dog howls,

As I plead with the Ether,

And my Ladies of the night,

Serendipity, Destiny and Fate,

To once more grace me,

Instruct and guide me,

To that necessary ingredient,

Muse,

Which fuels these tomes,

Endless,

An expected necessity,

Cherishing what I see,

What I know,

What I am,

Words,

Wordsmith of Muse.

 

Your importance,

Is akin to a mother’s milk,

To a new born child,

A pirouette to a ballerina,

A canvas to Picasso,

And a great green light for Gatsby,

And yet tragically,

My providence,

As guided by that frenzied Ether I so adore and praise,

Finds me Daisy,

Rather than as a star cross’d lover,

And yet I persist,

I rise,

I look to the heavens,

Praising even the momentary glimpse,

Of true beauty,

Inside your soul,

Muse,

That either none have, could or can see,

But I,

Guided by nature’s call to enthused benevolence,

To touch another as they touch me,

As you touch me,

So yes, Muse,

Your importance is greater than you may ever know.
Constantly,

I find myself in a state of flux,

A perilous and hazardous precinct,

Where my greatest wish,

Becomes my greatest downfall,

Always has been,

Since as early as the Ether first blessed me,

With these heart-rending efforts,

Dancing to the elegance of these ethereal gifts,

Presented by the Ether,

In a form that could only be you,

Muse,

For even those few moments,

Where I get to bask in the sentiments,

Those I crave more than anything else,

Even if for a panicked instant,

As I contemplate the predictable disappearance,

As happens each and every time,

Just as quickly as you arrived,

The infinitely obvious precision of my life,

Abandoned,

Left with these words as evidence,

Of a true gem,

Gems,

The very real importance of Muse,

If I am to survive,

Non Omnis Moriar.

 

Muse,

You are at once my everything,

And nothing,

For I can only seize,

What the Ether permits,

And it is a fickle master,

Guiding these fingers,

As they flicker with the genius, you inspire,

To some the foundation of a delusion of grandeur,

Those that could never understand,

For at least a while,

Never quite long enough,

Making the best of it,

As I bask in the prismatic resplendence of your soul,

The radiance of your smile,

The intense secrets behind those dancing eyes,

And the subtle way that even the simple act of walking,

Can alight in me an abstract prospect,

Captured in an instant, herein,

For you,

For posterity,

For you are Muse,

And without you,

I am lost in Dante’s circles of Hell,

As Virgil laughs,

And The Lost Generation once more consoles me.

 

With an intense vanity,

I fumble like a school child,

Scribbling outside the lines,

Hoping that you might see,

That Pandora’s curiosity,

Resulted in the very box that needs to be open,

If I am to thrive,

If I am to know genuine bliss,

For that is truly what you force me to aspire,

Climbing higher and higher,

Inside a drug induced fury,

Of pheromones clashing,

Serotonin dashing,

Dopamine slashing and adrenaline rushing,

And yet,

Like Hemingway’s haunting presence in my life,

That one true sentence,

That might finally get you,

Royal or otherwise,

Muse,

To see,

To feel,

To believe,

To hold fast,

Might understand,

What even I myself can not,

Me,

If I am to thrive,

It is only Muse,

Because of you,

All I imagine,

All you are.

The importance of Muse,

Of you,

Royal and otherwise,

Creates all I am,

All I will ever be,

The dutiful secretary,

Of the Ether’s grace,

Giving me moments of significance,

That are entirely dependent,

On you,

Muse!

SDM

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The Road I’ve Been Down

Muse,

Of fire,

Ascending,

The brightest heaven of invention,

As promised by Shakespeare,

My birthright,

Long ago sworn by the Ether,

For only stolen moments here and there,

Poof,

Gone…

 

Where are you,

Where are you Muse,

Where do you hide,

Reside not only in my mind…

 

Why do you not show your face?

 

You have forsaken me just as love,

You have abandoned me,

Abandoned us,

The intense provocations of our young love,

Tempered by the hard and cold realities,

Our child paying the price,

One all too high,

Crashing me into a widening despair,

The grand canyon reverberating,

With my black dog’s howl,

How can you,

Muse,

Leave me more hopeless and helpless,

Lost in your confusion?

 

Failure, once more,

Knowing the wrong,

Yet feeling the right,

Muse can it be so,

That you suffer from an abject detestation of love’s grandest design,

For me?

Do you know what love is?

 

I was born of love,

Molded and forged by its waters that run deep,

Both its presence and absence,

The craving and the realization,

The departure and desertion,

For…

It is a tragic reality,

That Muse, the world knows that I am love,

Willing and able to commit myself without hesitation,

Even now,

Surrender to that lofty romantic ideal,

Especially now,

But for reasons unclear,

Perhaps cultural, familial or even more sinister,

You could not see, would not see,

Though assured you must be Muse,

One day, you will understand,

Though poof,

I am not there

(although I long to be ever more).

 

Muse,

Of fire,

I beg of you,

Return to these fingers,

This mind aching,

Reeling,

Yearning,

Unleash the Ether’s intent,

Once more use me as spark to reveal not just me,

But the world I see,

Through a child’s eyes,

As I see it,

For the rest,

You know of whom I speak,

For me,

But for you,

There is nothing I could not do,

I could not be,

For you Muse,

I would give my all,

The chances we didn’t take are always those we regret… forever!

 

Chances,

Second or otherwise,

This altruism,

Always finds us in the end,

When the hours are long,

But life is short.

And I wonder,

Will you ever feel the pain of these ripe cancellations,

First of our child,

Fatherhood a profound guardian,

Giving meaning to this existence,

Then of our star cross’d love?

A pox on the mental houses,

Of I and I and I.

 

Muse,

Of fire,

When will you again grace me with elegant prose,

When will you reveal yourself to me once more,

That I may be conduit for your greatness?

 

Allow me to shine for you,

With you,

By you

For all the world to see,

But only you to behold,

As I adore you,

Exalt you,

More intensely with each uncontrolled neuron,

Though my mind is awash in flags of red,

My heart is electrified with a rainbow of sensations,

Finding not the emptiness in a pot of gold,

Rather realizing fortune favours the valiant,

Who realize the best things in life are not things

And must always be treasured,

Cherished to the end,

Regardless of circumstance.

 

Muse,

Of fire,

I wish of you,

For you,

To return once more,

Return,

Until my fingers bleed,

Until my soul is crushed,

Only to be precious again,

Can I Muse,

Be precious,

Again?

 

Muse,

Of fire,

Come to me,

Please of you I beg,

Pleading with my Mistresses,

Fate, Serendipity and Destiny,

Overwhelming my insecurities,

Breaking down the walls,

Like Joshua at Jericho,

And no less weighty,

Shattered objections,

Finding peace,

In you,

With you,

For you,

Come to me,

As I know you want to,

Frightened as you are,

So too am I,

Although,

Together we can and should journey toward the light,

Chosen,

Muse,

Of fire…

D

N

E

C

S

A

 

And liberate my heart, body, mind and soul

 

 

D

N

E

C

S

A

 

To set us free…

 

D

N

E

C

S

A

 

Freeing yourself from the chains that bind you,

For despite my passion,

My deepening desire,

My soul,

On fire,

I can not liberate your mind,

Only you,

Only you can Muse,

Thus I beg of you…

D

N

E

C

S

A

SDM

 

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Fate’s Slight of Hand?


Slight of hand?

I think not,

For love has made me daring,

Persistent and true.

 

While arming to the teeth the rambunctious modality of fate,

Tears,

Fallen from the heavens of your own aspiration,

Of experience as teacher,

For surely this love you need know,

And you do, don’t you?

A reward for a life lived on terms indivisible, from which you are,

My Hmong Key,

At some point, despite your cat calls to the opposite,

Tears will continue to fall,

Rain drops the size of flattery,

Smiles the size of a child’s laughter,

Brown eyes brighter than the big bang,

And woman,

You,

Hmong Key,

Tears free from inhibition,

Free from the same rules that you deride,

Finding the strength with in,

Knowing what you do not want to be without,

Washing away the iniquity of man (men) and time,

If only for a moment,

Crying out for Hmong Key to follow your own path,

And you do, don’t you, my Key?

You are!

You will!

A path you started walking with your first breath,

When you began to crawl, to walk and to run,

Forging a path that is not for the faint of heart,

Weak of mind or menaced by the soul,

In your rabid individualism you keep others at bay,

While at the same time pulling them in,

Ever closer,

With a swipe of your hand across the sky,

For in this world, at this time,

You are creator and created,

A new horizon realized by you,

For you,

At the zenith of your projection,

Can you feel it?

Will you?

Witness to your own grandeur,

I watch from the sidelines,

Having been placed there by you,

For the now,

Leaving me in a stubborn state,

For I only know how to love completely,

Fully and without equivocation,

Nothing I would not do,

Where I am always

Longing to touch in you,

That which you have touched in me,

Awakened this Warrior Poet,

To new realities

And a brighter future,

Ours,

Treasured Muse,

Of more import to my life than all the works of art,

Contained in all the museum palaces of the world,

Your grace the very air I breathe,

I crave you,

I desire you,

I need you,

I live for you,

Loving you with

Every beat of my heart,

And only sustenance is when our lips meet anew,

Each time,

As you grant me new life,

New hope,

New love,

Watching as I have,

As I will,

As I do,

The earth reaching up to touch you,

The heavens reaching down to restore

Your virtuous grace

Such that it may know your immensity as I do,

But I ask Hmong Key,

Why,

Why do you continue to run?

Though the question,

Rhetorical,

For I believe I understand.

 

As Muse,

As mine,

You cannot deny the will of the gods,

Nor run from your fate…

 

A happy home!

 

Our palace?
Built on the pure foundation,

Of a love so rare,

It defies all logic or reason,

Delivered,

As blessed and beloved gift,

From the Ether,

The universe has a plan for us,

Divine.

Until the end of time…

What do you say,

Perchance a dream,

Together,

Realized?

 

SDM

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Mon Cles Divine

With one look of your eyes,
(Those I had long since believed did not exist)
One peering glance,
(One I never thought I’d see)
You break through the chain male armor,
(Male as in Me)
Of a soul that longed for you,
(Mine)
Prayed for you,
(He/She/It/They or the Ether listened)
Dreamed of you,
(Nightly since a little boy)
With every adult fiber of my being,
(Knowing true Muse must eventually appear)
Considering virtue,
(Despite invitations from the Sirens)
Fostered by an unshakable faith,
(Two souls eventually collide)
An unprecedented belief,
(Save for those with an artistic slant)
In the power which understood,
(More than I ever could)
Acknowledged and revealed,
(With one blessed look)
The infinite wisdom,
(Of blessed truths)
Of love requited unconditional,
(For Muse is always without condition)
On a foundation,
(Rock solid)
Of daily discovery and affirmation,
(Kisses, more kisses)
Love,
(Anew and Reinvigorated)
Angelic grace,
(As your face clearly paints)
Through virtue understated,
(But not mistaken)
By you,
(In spite of my faults; Black Dogs and voices)
In the revealing reflections,
(Of mirrored souls)
Of your eyes,
(The window)
The universe unfolding,
(In multiple dimensions)
One atom at a time,
(The “God” Particle?)
Accelerated,
(With every breath)
By promise,
(At once believed)
And the realization of potential,
(Infinite loops and unified love theory)
On wings only visible,
(Less Icarus and more Cherubim)
By those that truly see,
(And I now can, see)
Through something that can’t be explained,
(Nor should it)
You have come,
(Mon Cles)
And with the grace of the tooth fairy,
(Imagined friends, less imagined)
My pillow,
(Shared)
Every morning,
(A gift from the stars)
Has born the just reward,
(Of a lifetime of want and need)
For the daring,
(I)
The curious,
(And I)
The scared,
(And I)
Who can believe, I and I and I,
(Finally)
In the sacred power,
(Of my Mistresses Serendipity and Fate)
Of a divine trust,
(Between lover and loved)
Love,
(Transcendent)
Wisdom in the revelation of this song,
(Only for you)
That glorious song,
(Syncopated breaths and beats)
All lovers hear,
(Listening to the bodies desire)
At the smack of the soul,
(Meet, Greet and Complete each other)
Manifested by the lips,
(Gleefully, more kisses)
Thank you Sages,
(For revealing to me)
Best friend, confidant, and every day more,
(Knowing what I have always known)
Unleashed,
(With a delirious chuckle and desirous smile)
Virtues eternal curiosity,
(Where these words dance)
Contemplated,
(Every moment of every day)
Love
(You).

SDM

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Primordial Breakthrough

Breakthrough…

Break

Through…

The first breakthrough,
At first,
Seemed more like a break,
Shattered,
Busted,
Broken,
From reality,
From the world,
From my love,
From these words,
The Ether delivering me devils and demons,
My sleep, skeletons and ghosts,
Of an imagined past and a deadly reality,
The nervous tension of my wounded pride,
Awoke the sleeping giant,
This giant,
Warrior Poet,
Though not yet a man,
I had to learn again how to wiggle, crawl, walk;

This was only the beginning of a wayfaring journey,
No destination detected our sought,
A journey, endless,
For as I started wiggling,
I felt the urge to crawl,
One I started crawling,
I was overcome by the desire to walk,
But after that,
Then what…

With invisible scars that none can operate on,
Save me,
Save me!

The second breakthrough,
Painful,
Heart wrenching,
Soul piercing,
Shock and awe,
My system,
Downed,
Crashed,
Crisis,
I was no longer able to walk, wiggle or crawl,
For I could not move,
I could not leave the couch,
Helpless yet helping myself,
Captured in the black hole of my mind,
There was no escape,
Dogs barking,
Black,
Depression, hallucinations, delusions,
Fearful creeping lightless thoughts;

My words my only salvation,
And even they seemed determined to fail me,
To destroy me,
Yet after that,
Then what…

The third breakthrough,
Acceptance,
Gaining insight into my fractured psyche,
With the aid of therapy and pills,
Learning how to wiggle,
Oh, how uncomfortable it was,
Then longing to crawl,
It felt a little better but still uncertain,
Then panging to walk,
But only for a moment,
For now I am in the pursuit of running,
Left foot,
Right foot,
Left hemisphere,
Right hemisphere,
All at once the sum and the whole of my parts,
Fragmented though they may be,
But then what…

The fourth breakthrough,
My flaws are no better nor worse than your own,
My mental condition may or may not be better than yours,
Life is life,
And if I ever gave into the darker sides of me,
Those that ask me to do things that need not be done,
Should never be done…

So day after day,

As I journey to gain a few steps closer,
To the me that I have always been,
I realize,
My personal primordial fog lifted,
It is the simplest atoms in me that are askew,
It is the living chemistry of this troubled mind,
That though dark and dangerous,
Keeps me marching toward…

Another breakthrough,

That I may one day know,
I have survived and thrived,
Pressed on where others may have fallen,
Given into the dark urges,
The silent demons that you can’t hear,
But deafen those of us afflicted,
Given up on the pharmaceutical nightmare,
The zombie nature of my life,
Giving way, once more,
To self medication and an abiding dedication,
To LIVE,

I have;

Gotten up when kicked,
And down when beckoned by my Black Dog,
That each day offers the opportunity of challenge,
That each challenge is the building block of opportunity,
And if ever,
Whenever,
However this breakthrough comes,
I wonder if it will finally be that unattainable,
As it would seem it has,
Now,
Though I search,
For that which escapes me; the,

Perfect sentence,
Freedom,
From this tormented oscillation,
Vacillation,
Down and up,
Up and down,
Victim and victimizer,
Student and teacher,
Sage and village idiot,
I feel it coming,
I feel it,
All my life,
And there is nothing I can do;

I have been waiting,
All my life,
All my life,
To discover that I must press on,
All I can do is;

Persevere…
In wait!

SDM

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Conniving Imbalance


Every action has an equal and opposite reaction,
This despite indefatigable efforts,
Has proven itself true,
At least for the realm of science,
Yet it would seem,
The same is true of our actions,
Despite the laws of science and nature,
The unintended consequences,
Or collateral damage,
Leading us down a path of social Darwinism,
Where the rules are as transient and varied,
As there are people on this earth,
Competing vision,
Notions,
Ideas,
Diametrically opposed opposites,
Polar if you will, BiPolar,
Such that I consider what action caused my current affect.

I whole heartily believe it was an accident,
When I was thirteen,
My stubborn head,
Bouncing off the pavement of my exclusive boys school,
Parochial if I may,
Though there is no arnica that can fix my proverbial brain bruise,
To you,
The casual observer,
I may even seem normal,
(TRUST me, no one that knows me would call me normal)
The reasons evident for this are simple,
What ails me does not manifest for eyes to see,
Ears to hear,
Mouths to taste,
Noses to smell,
And your hand cannot touch what ails me,
What is invisible to you?

Invisible to all,
Is hell for me,
For what ails me is manageable,
Not curable,
At least not for now,
If fortunate,
And I have done so well,
These words may offer you insights into what I am going through,
Spitting toxic vitriol,
Free from inhibitions,
Allowing myself the luxury of pure and innocent truth,
That is dark and deviant within me,
These words are my truth,
They are the signposts for what it means to be me,
What it feels like to be me,
Why I have removed myself from city life,
And run for the country,
Countries,
Laos,
Where the air is fresh, the scenery is lush,
And for at least an hour each day I feel at peace.

Choosing my battles,
I bat away all suggestions,
By my psyche, ego or my id,
That I and I and I cannot reclaim my life,
Fighting though I must and do,
Daily,
Transient voices,
Powerful hallucinations,
All of which I battle,
On my own,
Having played the pharmaceutical card,
Only to discover it made it hard,
Harder, for me to cope,
For I do not care for you to feel this pain,
I do not care for you to see what it does to me,
The ravages of mind, body and soul,
Seemingly my possessed intelligence,
Conniving with some force out there,
I call it the Ether, the Universe or Karma,
Having no faith in what others consider God,
Choosing instead to have faith in science,
Science that is neither precise nor understood,
Plodding around in my chemical imbalances,
Have faith in the answers I am given,
Though they are always prefaced with a,
“We don’t quite know how it works, but it does.”

Initially I hid behind a mask, a costume, a uniform and in the shadows,
No more,
I have decided that to stay the course,
Means to be brutal and frank in my honesty,
That not only you may appraise,
But so too can I,
These days of manic disaster,
Where I persevere.

SDM

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