Summer Thoughts  and Quotes from Better Men

Summer Thoughts and Quotes from Better Men

” Anyone with only a week to live will not find it in his interest to believe that all this is just a matter of chance..”

“Experience shows us an enormous difference between piety and goodness.”

-Blaise Pascal , Pensees.

 

“The meaning of it is unknown,

Or else I fear entirely mine.”

  • Robert Frost, A Missive Missile, from A Further Range

 

A week of fever and no dreams,

a week without a bath in heaven,

without nepenthe ,

no drunkard of ethereal need can be greeted with such a dearth of night cerebration,

The winds are like water doused flames touching your skin, fluid humidity,

as if with gills I breathe,

everything is verdure and amalgam,  as muggy as the moral fabric of Nero’s rome,

as blasphemous as the Early Church, as Vile as the New Cheaper Church,as as as an as can be.

There is a new horse,

ebon like an Orphic Greek vase, its mane a ruddy crimson fading into sable,

All seems pale,

the grass overwrought, the pond depleted, the mare turns her head away, a turtle scurries beneath a  growth of moss.

 

Men mill about on the roads and in the buildings of cities,

winds blow, years pass,

how men convey themselves and express themselves is all that differs,  a static existence modeled on mimicry,

men: merely different metals some less polished, and the grey carpet of concrete which the four rubber tired beast pushes him down, literally combusting as he goes monkey-ishly about his day , is pocked and pimply with a forgotten interest in infrastructure,(governments as children who grow disinterested in projects and let them crumble to dust ) ,the trees lining it aggressive ,

often cut back, they too want to live.

And always there are the sounds of a hot country , so fermy is the new summer, positively third world, a teeming wilderness , not a virginal dew strewn plain, an experienced woman of nature taking all comers, you can smell her yearning in the wind, hear it in the howl of unseen night beasts, one draws the shade against it, makes ones cave cooler, flees from such violent encouragement, suffers deliriums, sweats in bed.

 

I turn the air down a modicum, it never stops blowing, all is ice indoors in the south this time of year,

the windows covered in condensation intensifying the feeling of trapped animalism one suffers after eating a meal,

just being in such an environment, knowing how the heat is out there,

breathing and waiting like a hunter, it will get you, it will turn you choleric yet, trees as earths exposed viscera, leaves as ganglia, thoughts of primitive summer minds, the deer run free and are un-hunted,

the fridge is full and I am starving.

Freedom to some is not being held in any way by another, never looking at themselves, the primary chain bearers, they lounge in a kiddy pool and call it the height of expression.  One day ill burn all my papers. Ill use them to start my funereal pyre, my pagan ceremony becoming the norm, committed by Christian and Unbeliever alike.

There is a violence in unknowing and we suffer because of it, but no one knows….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Opposition and Facing It Without Fear

What have you to fear? Your life and every circumstance is within your  hands, what to you is the political unity, Nations, Opinion, Group Feeling?

In your mind dwells a country, a true Motherland,

no flags are waved, no boundaries exist,

no men need rule through legality,

where control is not an illusion perpetuated in order to imply an order which is masked force,

In your mind is a real world which makes this one seem the vestiges of a mere growth upon rock, and we mere amoeba, clothing appear to be chains, ownership appears to seem like slavery, freedom to be something never needing to be earned , simply a thing granted by birth to everyone who’s flesh touches the earth, except for those who cannot see the door

List of Things I wished Weren’t but Are.

I wish the clothing bought was less expensive in the cost of human life.

I wish I didn’t have trouble controlling my heartbeat, or that my love would drive me to know lack of fear.

Wish I didn’t crave attention and dread it all at once, wish I could curl up next to my wife as myself, warm and full of life, not this cold demon harnessed without me.

I shake my shackles in derision, laughing is the best way.  All ghosts are but an undigested piece of dumpling etc.

Awkward social situations with no consequences which weigh on my soul like the moment that Alexander sliced the fucking Gordian knot. Fun yes to think of but to do, it is not.

Talking about ones delusions is always funny in retrospect but at their conception and their exposure to the light of reality and present-hood of experience it is never pleasant, and if so, then maligned and to the wrong purpose, not all was meant to smell as fresh as linen or to be well thought of.

 

Green Hot Cool Wind

Green Hot Cool Wind

The fermy undergrowth of dead tree, rotting pleasantly its scent, a babble of coniferous life around it smelling of coitus on a grand scale,

an Earthly scale,

Gods voice whispering in the weighted air a hum of Cicadas and sprout of fungi so sibilant it goes unnoticed when I turn on the radio,

My heart beats and i turn the radio off and gird my loins to enter a world so different from the brotherhood promised by great men,

there is nothing I haven’t found in the past that is here today, nothing now but Air conditioning and heat and the same problems a Plebeian encountered on his way to market,

I dream as Frost dreamed,of the only revolution possible, the revolution of one man.

 

God

Sun , I hold you in hands framing your smallness, you burn me but from a distance,

I lick my wounds as I wake, smell my mustache, the beard i let grow in remorse or laziness,

I think of my father , my mother, my surrogate mother, my brothers, I crack open sarcophagi filled with secrets thinking of them,

I bounce the children of the future on my knees and cry knowing holding them is a lie.

Ive lifted up God, what he does in actuality, or if he is merely an orifice i toss things spiritual into, is unknown to me, but I’ve heard the sound of shells, and the curses of blood drained men promising the deliverance of the one who i thought was my own.

God Noticed

The weak bones in your neck frame, i noticed them, yet bore you,

i heard the pounding of gravity, the need of oxygen pouring into your lungs, yet i bore you,

I bore you, fearing war, bore you witnessing it, heard the spray of machines splattering the dust of men across the nether,

loved knowing it led to hate, gave knowing it gave to the ungivers , bore you, pregnant with self, hurting with unknowing, knowing with full knowledge of lack of knowledge, would let spirits burn because i had known better.

 

 

 

have No Fear

have No Fear

have no fear because good triumphs always,

even if not in your finite days allotted you by the mechanism or whatever you subscribe to spiritually,  then mere entropy and genetic change itself,

the importance of all life.

Is a world of Algae less good than a world of Men?

Based on the standards elicited by society , I note little difference in the moral dichotomy of algae and man. So i question the moral faculty, wonder more and more, if it is a freak occurrence existing only in those it hasn’t been bred out of by some devilish evolutionary body pushing ever onwards trying to create hyper beings forced to carry the burden of a sleeping humanity, and then call these men and women philosophers, give them their chains, and watch them jangle them and say words like “Status” “Kingship”.

No golden apple, just the weight of the world these Atli bearing it upon them,

some never being heard, ghosts in the machine which hoists and pulls onward sometimes ok, other times teetering on destruction.