11 posts tagged “epistemology”
You are one reader; this text may not be equally meaningless to every reader
Go and chit-chat with some other mind, and look for another to become your lover
Raise your bum off a pink toilet-seat, and keep the appointments on your hectic schedule
Take your new laptop each place you go; continue your service to another devil
Minds of whole entire demographics fail to change, and the world fails to change
Let the stomach starve; let the body age its way to the grave; turn to sludge
Let the spirit sink down within the septic-tank of the heart; let it drown
Life can be a strain; life can drain an aura out until all strength is gone
Leaving our own wrists un-slashed is the final homework authority assigns
We are the blame-takers, makers of punished-efforts that nobody admires
All of our food, clothes, and shelter were left by merchants and tradesmiths on the move
Nobody owes any favors to us; we wait for our failures to survive
Nobody gets the warm-fuzzy feelings they want from news the world needs most
This is a party; real needs and public awareness spoil the fun; fxxk shxt
Why am I here? I’m now just a damper on other peoples’ free spare time
This is a party, that’s it, and if you are here with smug ideals, don’t come
I believed I could get on with life by making a difference that was never welcome
People just fail to learn how to have an innocent-person-with-a-twist around them
Go away; you have no clue about what’s really important, and it doesn’t matter
You are one reader; this text may not be equally meaningless to every reader
Stare for a moment, shrug, ignore, and forget
Purchase your fries and burgers; rest and exist
Follow the Monday-morning oozing routine
Cog in the big machine of agony’s groan
Sacred rubies-of-information fall in the ideodumpster of boredom
Briefly stare at a text, and then ignore and forget it; conform in a system
Macaroni and cheese is on a plate on a table with pencil and paper
There are people who know and care that I’m a survivor who tries to recover
Any voice in any wilderness can become another’s voice
Life’s quintessential moments dissolve a sense of dark loss
Set in the west, and take a deep breath before you go to your grave
Breathe deep; an open window has always been a real salve
Love the air, each and every molecule
All the sane minds are closed and cynical
I’m a text-whore for all the literate
Read me now; tell me I’m articulate
All that is left is some posterity’s hope
Go and believe that urgent-vision is hype
Follow the script that broken-spirits accept
Stare for a moment, shrug, ignore, and forget
Call the state of the heart a quote “negative attitude” unquote
Thanks for saying that smiles are good; thanks for explaining the concept
Be the salt in the spirit’s wounds, cluelessly sheltered, and perfect
Call the state of the heart a quote “ negative attitude” unquote
Pencils and paper are friends without shoulders to cry on
Open, accepting, without advice, mindsets, or caution
Maybe the courage to write can survive the failures to answer every reader’s questions
Maybe the courage to write can survive, in spite of the inner-critic’s growth on steroids
Keep your distance, and have your own fun
Don’t expect me to watch or join in
Turn your back if I make your skin crawl
Kick a football, or shop at some mall
Make sense to hundreds of people; only confuse a few
Whole demographics will never learn what is real or true
Every bite, breath, and step you take for granted must be nice
You’re a team-player, saved by charm and cronies, not by grace
Drive your vehicle through Monday’s hectic traffic
Be an icon of pure photogenic magic
Call the state of the heart quote “depressing” unquote
Call the state of the heart a quote “negative attitude” unquote
You, the master of power-control, you demand blood, gold, and silver for your strength
Youth is doomed in the name of your own crown and throne; iron-fists are flattened in your wrath
Kings and pawns can be crossing a new border; just draw some imaginary-line
Take the honor, and brag at the sky; gloat and stand smug; just be proud of your design
Stand over cultures like a great giant glutton over a banquet
Shout vocal thunder to the mob; enjoy your most definitive moment
Yakkety yak and blah blah and crazy talk into microphones
Making the sense a mouth makes in front of multiple multitudes
Sicken the human stomach; play the mass trick
Tension, alarm, and panic, make it all work
All of the constitution burns to smoked ash
All of your gains are losses; even friends clash
Once, you stood by a bucket, and held the handle of a mop
Gazing into an angel, the pelvic valley of her lap
Wear a costume; forget who you were; wear a pale clay mask of archetype and myth
You, the master of power-control, you demand blood, gold, and silver for your strength
Once upon a duration of chronological time
Monday mornings were tangible, ripe salvation from shame
Interpersonal dialogue bubbled under the sun
Now we live in an age when the Eaton’s Building is gone
Queen Street died in the birth of Portage Avenue
Fast change happens, and life becomes a vertigo
Real truth never conforms to any weltanschauung
No one paradigm ever covers everything
Bite the fruit of a tree; enjoy a full meal
Break the ovary wall, and let the seeds fall
Stand where others have stood before your own birth
Stand where others may stand beyond your own death
Leaves and snowflakes fall, as the dollar-bills and coins enter and leave our wallets
These are days when elders are left in homes, and some citizens vote on ballots
Early, late, and punctual people rise and rush into the morning traffic
Early, late, and punctual people rise and rush into the morning panic
Ghost of Timothy Eaton, avenge the landmark we tore
Haunt the “Centre” we built, and create a horrible scare
We were innocent once, and we had the freedom to dream
Once upon a duration of chronological time
Tumbleweeds and roses love and accept random, wild, real life
Intimate surrender, yes to the wind, peace without hurt grief
Solitude can kiss the truth of your pure self with soft, still calm
Tension can be soothed away in your deep core with life’s first balm
Take time; give it time; these are the days of meritocracy
Rushed stress makes it much harder to find the soul’s tranquility
Brute arms lock you snug; fingers and palms caress with tenderness
Feel safe; close your eyes; blissfully sigh; enjoy the universe
Someone does care if you freeze, melt, or boil
Someone does care if you sink, rise, or fall
Someone does care if you sleep, live, or die
Someone does care how you are every day
Your mission, should you choose to accept it:
Make peace with interpersonal conflict
Make peace with Proud Humanity’s nature
Make peace with each adventurous danger
Reach stars without bowing down to the enemies of friends
Touch hearts without bowing down to authorities and crowns
These days, when strict meritocracy’s deadlines are precise
These days can kill souls with schedules and failures to rejoice
Notice how bubbles and feathers can spread out across fun air
That is how we, as humans, can soar, freed from each clock’s glare
Lilies of the field can silently clear any mind’s thick strife
Tumbleweeds and roses love and accept random, wild, real life
Radioactive, toxic, volatile, flammable, explosive
Powerful witchcraft lurks around us, potentially destructive
Just when you thought the world was safe for a casual existence
Seeds of apocalyptic nightmares contaminate the surface
How do you blossom when the whole globe is hand-made, plan-based?
Live a synthetically contrived life on slick, pale, dead land
Locked in containment-fields where tensions and grudges are abrasive
Radioactive, toxic, volatile, flammable, explosive
Access to the second level of operations
Radiance and glory rise to the sun’s occasions
Contemplative caution quivers within the courage
Having-an-agenda shines as the prime advantage
Dark stink in the coldest silence
Deep absence of sleep or chaos
Wolves cry as they starve and weaken
Lambs crucify minds who question
We exist, and we still continue to exist
We are not an invasion, parasite, or guest
This is true, and the truth continues to be true
Let there still be a place where everyone can go
Nothing to be proud or ashamed of
Rising from the fall of perspective
Done with an instructive directive
Nothing to be proud or ashamed of
Walk tall through the low crypt of the flushed sewage-soup’s filth-broth
Take time, you who feel need for the whole world to break all faith
Sharp tusks puncture flesh under the sun, soaked in pain’s live blood
Wild beast, learn your place under the sun, prowl upon free land
Freedom of abundance in a land without epiphanies
Telescopes are useless for the souls who need kaleidoscopes
Amplitudes are screaming in the ears of friends and enemies
Headphones are the solitudes of punks within our silences
Life is a bus-stop where broken-souls wait for the Death-Bus to come
Dream of a pure globe of laughs and play, dream of a globe children claim
Access to some level over stars, access to some hive-control
Promised by some king of rooks and pawns, promised for some precious jewel
Nicotine, cocaine, and opium hide in chocolate
Cravings and addictions lurk in the legal market
Gratitude was all the power the barons gave us
Access to the second level of operations
A advances
B betrays
C convinces
D delays
E is everywhere
F is far
G is globular
H is here
I’m an intruder
J is a joker
K is the kaiser
L is a loner
M wants more
N is new
O is old
P is in the pew
Q questions
R respects
S is sly
T is tricked
U has utilities
V has a view
W wonders what the whole world is worth
X plays xylophone
Y says yes to youth
Z zooms through the zone
Teleojourney metahome before chronodark
Gobble and gulp a nourishing and hot midnight-snack
Sing for your bed-and-breakfast, as you grow, vote, and shave
Enemies, friends, and strangers are deprived slaves who give
Circulate eternally in gray streets of urban-spiral
Intimacy’s distance is confined now, in stone and metal
Flavors-of-the-months are the acquired tastes of demographics
Preferences are merging in a shared world of informatics
Cause a loud effect, bang big, then you get a cold, silent response
If, and only if, that’s that, then you take or leave anything else
Motion zooms, jumps, crawls, oozes, and flows
Live a real, true life, praise your desires
Blessings-to-count are giving you the prime spark of fire
Targets-and-gods are focusing you keen, sharp, and clear
Nobody knows your secret, the divine mother’s-milk
Teleojourney metahome before chronodark