Tag Archives: Lost Generation

Starry Night & Absinthe

Starry Night by alex ruiz

I left my body last night,

As many a night,

Starry,

Vaulting through space discovering new truths based on old lies,

New lies based on old truths,

Sophists and sycophants resisting a collective awakening,

As the Oracle of Delphi and I played chess,

Sore looser too,

My end game studied,

Ghamiet Amirjan too much to comprehend,

Entering another dimension,

Mozart asked me for advice,

On how Beethoven would title Ode to Joy?

Van Gogh asked me to chop his ear off,

But I couldn’t find the strength,

As we sat in a field of dreams,

Fantasies of observation,

With more truth concealed in a single stroke,

Than the masterful lies of omissions so common these days,

Or perhaps I just didn’t want to cooperate,

There’s a reason it is called self mutilation,

And I am no sadist,

Or so I would like to believe,

Needless to say he registered his disappointment,

And then proceeded to mystify my understanding,

Of everything in that open field,

Looking up into the night,

Into the past,

To illuminate the future;

 

After we shared some Absinthe,

The brilliant fool loping off his ear,

Handed it to me and suggested that I might use it,

To hear the voices of angels,

Invisible imaginary inventions,

Mankind’s malevolent machinations,

Those inspire words like these,

And paintings like those,

Echoing whiplashes,

Like a beating from the Ether,

Especially on a voyage such as the one that I now was on,

With no guide to direct me,

Save Ernest and my crew,

The Lost Generation, in which I found,

Find,

I must press on unabated,

Traveling between dimensions,

Multiverses of strings,

Explained only by a penetrating look inside,

My fractured mind,

Where at once all and nothing made sense,

For in the hall of mirrors,

I came upon Louis XIV,

He proclaimed famously L’etat c’est moi,

I reminded him that that kind of talk,

In France was at the very least dangerous,

If not outright inflammatory,

Asking me then if I wanted some cake.

He got lucky though,

Rather than losing his head,

He died,

Naturally,

I sat there and watched him succumb to his gangrene,

Sipping on a Van Gogh green fairy,

Vaulted to another dimension,

Everyone seemed like a midget,

Forcing me to wonder if I had landed in Oz,

And would that make me Dorothy or Toto?

Didn’t matter, as I wasn’t there long enough to find out,

Continuing on this out of body experience,

I came to Russia,

1917,

The Czar was there,

Asking me,

Instead of Rasputin what the options were,

I explained they were indeed grim,

Fight or flight,

He chose fight,

And we all know how that ended up.

Next transported to Munich,

1936,

In the middle of Nazi excess,

While Jessie Owens triumphantly raised his hand,

I too chose to be that guy,

Defiant,

Proving that the master race,

Was not master at all,

Instead a fascist puppet,

Owens,

Jubilant extended the first symbol of black power,

I was there when Malcolm was shot,

JFK, MLK and Bobby,

Senseless slaughter that led to endless slaughter,

Wars continued to be waged,

As I was reminded by Eisenhower,

That the complex,

Military industrial,

Was really in control.

Iran,

1979,

I couldn’t believe that such foolhardy decisions were still being made,

I watched as Reagan took the oath of office,

And his pawns were released,

While Oli North was already hard at work,

With another illegal war,

I applauded when Clinton made polar opposites shake hands,

Crying when Rabin was felled by one of his own,

This journey seemed to be all that was wrong,

Or at least parts of it,

I watched in horror,

From the water’s edge,

As planes flew into buildings,

False flags,

And the world was changed forever,

I stood at the cavernous pit,

As Bush assured the world,

That soon the whole world would hear,

Wrath,

I stood rapt,

As Obama took hold of the reigns of a descending power,

And pleaded with him,

While the iron was hot,

To strike down the iniquity of the American way,

Only to be escorted out of his office,

By men in black suits,
Misters Smith and Jones…

Zapped!

 

Finally,

I was cast to the other side of the universe,

Greeted by a triumvirate,

Man, woman and Child,

Who asked,

If now I understood,

Shaking my head no,

All I could do was cry,

Void of hope,

Because even in my dreams,

Even in that out of body experience,

The world,

Remained the same,

And I wondered,

If our resilience,

Could possibly continue…

 

And with that,

They sent me back,

And I wished they hadn’t…

Fortunately,

An earless man,

With a marvelous eye,

Offered a drink,

Pointed,

Up to that night,

In that field,

Reality interpreted and turned to me and said;

“Escape what insults you by revealing what you know.”

SDM

 

Written from photo prompt at Magpie Tales; http://magpietales.blogspot.com/2014/08/mag-234.html … some great writers… Check them out!

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Lost Generation (Found Love?)

  

If I could cradle you again in my arms,

Like these past weekend,

A lifetime shared in beautiful moments,

Collected,

Feel the body electric between us,

Soul mates now advance,

Or is it depart,

Apart yet together,

Knowing that you feel you have to to do what you’re doing,

Without knowing why,

And refusing to see the truth

I too must now move on,

Progress to the conviction,

That it is no contradiction,

That this can be,

Sing my own body electric,

For you,

For the rest of the world to see,

Let the voices in my head,

And the Ether,

The giants of my craft,

Use me as their conduit that I may produce,

My epic,

These stories,

Unearth for the world,

The universe,

The truths of these demons,

Those come dressed to me in tuxedos and ball gowns,

Entreating me to dance the love hypnotic,

Can you be hypnotized,

Captivated,

Enraptured in these emotions rare,

A virtual green fairy, produced,

Inside my own mind,

Expose that my calling once ignored,

Save for the women of my Muse delight,

Is now the central feature of a life lived?

Am I now complete?
Not without you!

In the pursuit of happiness and love,

For others,

Without acknowledging what I need,

Thinking of the Lost Generation,
Living with them,

Drinking, eating and partying,

My delusions,

I can feel Zelda’s breath on my neck,

As she whispers sweet everything’s in my ear,

As I wish you would, and have,

I can hear Pablo as he twirls his fingers,

Explaining the abstract,

To those that will never get it,

But he will get them,

He persists,

Determined little bastard,

Note to self;

Become a determined little bastard,

Gertrude takes me by the hand,

Walks me to the Seine,

Waves her arms dramatically and says;

“This is the river of your discontent;

Let it ebb and flow,

As true as the words you write,

And you will find,

Find you will,

The answers that you seek,”

 

In the corner F. Scott and Ernest are laughing,

Drawing me near,

With their alcohol blemished wisdom,

Just as my own,

The sage like discord you’d expect from giants,

Of personality, spirit, mind and life itself,

Ernest in earnest,

Says to me;

“Go on Son, the world is your oyster;

It is time for you to find a pearl,

A pearl you must,

Travel far and wide,

Inside your mind and in the world,

Find your voice,

Your voice,”

F. Scott scoffs;

“My boy,

It is time for you,

Time for only you,

Live gloriously,

Fabulously,

Relentlessly,

Find your inner playboy,

And reveal to me that Jay is not the greatest character,

Reveal to me that you are the chosen light,

Reveal it to the world,

They are waiting.”

In unison they declare;

“She is waiting for you… you just need to find her.”

So I smirk,

As I realize that my joy,

Is in these words,

My love is in these words,

Abundant and without end,

Just as my love has always been for you,

Proverbial and literal.

As F. Scott finishes Pound rounds the corner,

Slaps me on the back and says;

“Wisdom they impart,

Is only that, which you may find,

Your fingers dance,

Your mind is a beautiful tangled and intertwined tango,

Easy for you,

Now you must find your flamenco,

Do with these words,

What you will,

Go wise young man;

For you are one of us,

Truly.”

With that,

I am brought back to this world,

To this time,

The present,

Where I must find my way,

Find my way,

To excellence,

Personal greatness,

Where I can find you,

Literal,

That we may both shine,

Basking in the glory of love,

Of life,

Of uncertainty,

And find that I may triumph,

In spite of my black dog,

The curse of depression,

Repressed,

By you, for you, with you,

If you’d let me,

What if man never dreamed of the stars?

Never dreamed of flight?
Of going under the sea?

Of being a family man,

With love and a true life,

What more matters?

To wit,

We all raise and glass and say;

“LIVE…”

SDM

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