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