You young ones lost down deep in the complexity of meaning, mired in eternal dark know this much, mind survival is a choice. Blackness is warranted due to the egregious and often unpredictable and intangible idea of “satisfaction.” Happiness is more difficult to achieve than faith which takes a lot of singing. We–the elder who’ve been at this shit a bit longer harbor insecurities too. We’re no different. Your words were our utterances decades ago before additional years laid claim over our judgement. Long term attachments to our thoughts and deeds stretched and there was definitely some snapping.
Life as a noun is what we all are granted for however long it is ours to have. There is no fairness in this gambler’s roll. We–all of us–planet props. She decides when to pull the curtains and poll the audience. Cut roses might land at our polished toes for a short while but our ashes will blow like everyone else’s in the end.
Life as a verb is where things get interesting. We may fuck up our own lives. We may fuck up other lives. We may “fuck” (that’s not really very nice-insert “make love” if it fits) and make more lives. It’s all off-the-cuff as none of us know what we’re doing. It’s guesswork mixed with feasible traditions, doable effort and the ability to look or sound convincing. Some of us jump from planes, some rule cleaning supply closets while others drive cars. There are people who kiss and hold hands. There are those who laugh at flesh. Build sandboxes or pyramids. Walk on water or fly on drugs. These lists are endless when life is a verb.
While in the active form–you are more than a prop. Call yourself a writer, a student, a lost soul, an accountant or weather reporter–whatever role that satisfies. If you take this action and pull down blackout curtains you shorten the showtime. If “life” meaning has eluded you or you don’t see the sincerity you believe should be available, perhaps you need to practice a bit longer. Maybe try a different accent. Stand a bit taller or crawl.
The distance between life and death is but a few feet down. The difference between love and hate is measured on the same surface. The reason for your life is closer to you than anything else.
call it comets or divine intervention or whatever term you’d like to ascribe–”life” rolled them off the craps table
dinos created using Adobe Illustrator about 20 years ago-that pains me to say;)
sorry for the cussing in this one
earth time past
folds before man laid claim
magnificent giants roamed
this planet’s hide
legged, tentacled, devoid of sense
spawning stuff of nightmares
breathing light of dreams
creatures of fantasy
bestowed as masterpieces
castrated by nature
on a sunless whim
t’rex duel created long ago while learning Adobe Illustrator, previously published
there are explosions outside my window this night
is this what Francis Scott Key heard
could be thunder claps
I’d love to see sprites and elves on this darkened day
did you know sprites and elves hover above the clouds
they mess around with the angels and the saints
red sprites and blue elves
lightening firing electricity
enough to piss off the winged folk
not nearly enough to rattle Zeus
he knows it’s fairy playin’
Zeus is a cool cat
angels not so much, they don’t like when their curls go flat
maybe that’s the problem with the world
too many uptight angels up there
and down here
angel cone created before Christmas and previously published…a guilt story behind my cone angel…sorry grandma
I often joke how I don’t dislike anyone. I can never remember what it is I shouldn’t like, so I love all people and lead a charmed life.
“Pentagon backs brain implant project,” read an editorial headline in this morning’s paper. I’m sure many of you have already read about ‘memory chips’ somewhere over the past year. “A device that can be surgically installed in the brain to help form, store and recall memories.” Neuroprosthetics is the stuff of great science fiction. What fun H.G. Wells would have had!
The Pentagon is coughing up tens of millions of dollars to fund neuroprosthetics research. According to the article, the initial end users are “…service members who suffered traumatic brain injuries…the first human test subjects will be people with memory difficulties caused by epilepsy.”
Hum, implants. There are folks out there obsessed with implants of all types – especially the ones that make things larger. Memory implant research could get quite interesting or at the very least, mildly terrifying… My heart would like to believe all parties involved with neuroprosthetics have only compassionate intentions, alas…
Clion sometimes wishes he could forget – he can’t fly…
Thank you and have a spectacular weekend. May you recall and dream a bygone fantasy…
Clion created with Prisma, July 10, 2014.
Quoted editorial material taken from TImes Herald-Record, Middletown, NY