The following poem refers to the notion of people blindly following something, anything (a trend, a meme, a religion) just because the “in” crowd - or masses - is doing it:
Overcast throughout the moment
Gutted sides, hollowed backs-
Drifting toward sounds with no
Pronunciation; bent without cracks.Grainy draining, pushing further
Past the faceless crowded cell,
Gaining hazy blurred truths
They all hear but never tell.
Written August 2006.
Ever stop think we are all essentially alone? By merely existing as a living, breathing being with its own consciousness, we know loneliness no matter how many other bodies surround us. I believe there was a good philosophical quote I heard once concerning this matter but I can’t seem to find the correct wording or who uttered the phrase. In any case, its’ an insignificant matter that is - at the same time - very profound and poignant.
Not with or without,
United and divided
We stand as one
Too many-
As circles of lonely people
Walk within and
Without one another
Always enveloped
In the passing-by of life.
Though the idea can sound grim at times, it can also be a very freeing notion. Though I don’t really care for the term, I’m an atheist. That is to say I don’t just believe in something because it feels good; the awesomeness of nature and space is what inspires me in creative ways, as well as being a good and caring person. I mention this only because I feel there’s a parallel. Many theists who do not understand what it’s like to not have that faith assume not believing in a Heaven (for example) means one must be immoral or at the least darkly unhappy. I had never been so happy until I finally came out, being able to admit it to myself and others. The wonders of the natural world around me became animated with colors I had never seen before, loving life more than ever before.
I generally see the positive in things, but sometimes I find it hard to understand the negative. That’s where this parallel comes in to play. Some may see being essentially alone as a negative, whereas the passing-by of life (including everything inspirational in nature) is how I feel “never alone”.
Written August 2006.
Never plentiful enough; always far too much
So quick to slur, slowly blur
And jump ahead-
Ticking away, picking
At the hands of the
Clock
Who keeps
Changing the gears.
This poem directly relates to the abstract constant known to us simply as time. Always moving too fast or too slow when we want the opposite to occur. Its really the only thing that is absolutely real yet hard to grasp. The only thing that can work with us or against us, always remaining beyond our control. I suppose the title is a play on words using the phrase The Gods of Time, implying that the only true constant beyond our reach is the notion of time. And even though it may look bleak at one moment, life is always a good thing.
