Dr. Paul.Feb13,2K8

January 17, 2006

On the White Man:

In a pessimistic modern world, where my heart begins to stray
In dreams of selfless entities and hopeless melodies
there exists a fruitless shadow of man leading all others on;
into a cataclysm of self-absorptions and efficient exploits
[which most chose to ignore by way of assimilation]
By him we construct the ladder of social stature
Envy his progress, eye his possessions and die for what is his
Inside you want to watch him bleed,
yet you document and praise his every move

Stationary Motions:

…and still time goes by
frozen in our steps we stand
distanced from the present
arriving to where we began.

…and still age takes its toll
isolated from the past, aging
arriving to the future
still never leaving our past.

…so still here we are
caught in the ceaseless rhyme
taking time to rethink the days
where we spent time reflecting what would be now
[let the right eye wander]

Random Blurbs

as privileged as a son, as wonton as a whore
your eyes reveal despair when
the trap door in the sun wont turn

-=-

A woman cannot be depicted in literature, otherwise we lose interest. Rather, she must be experienced so that we may savour ever ounce of her entity. That is the legitimizing reason for man’s existence, our salvation depends on her being.

-=-

If you were tomorrow & I was today
I’d burn up Time to make you go away

-=-

entrance by silence, we weep with tears
stole of beauty, the sun’s death nears
and last we sigh for better days
though hope is lost when love is gained

-=-

why do you tease? what do you hope to achieve?
I reach out to touch you, yet my fingers only glide through your vanity
Instruct me so that may become better, release me so that I may become clean again
Let’s make a mends, let’s be friends for the evening

[title pending]

Throughout this life, there is you and me
Everything else was built to deceive
Heaven was built for you and I, a seed of dreams realized
Not a place to go in death, rather the bliss we sense here
And so, we glide through life, unknowingly
In anticipation of our kingdom in the thereafter
These bodies contain the essence of what it means to be free
It’s these eyes that keep us from release
in the meantime we’ll share this eternal nowhere
a time, a place for you and I to share

Morality

I have a tiny issue to discuss on the difference between morality and justice. After starting into Spartacus I uncovered an aspect of Order, hegemony if you will, which I have failed to recognize thus far. Justice is not a matter of right or wrong, instead it deals with the maintenance of social order. The law makers don’t heed the voice of Morality; otherwise there would be less pollution, less waste, more empowerment towards the equality of all man. The charter of rights is not an equalizer of man; it is merely a declaration by democrats to attain as many votes from as many sources as possible. Morality rides on the coat tails of Justice, weighing down the cumbersome beast sufficiently enough as to keep it from flight. For if justice could soar, it would take off with the bourgeois high upon it. Morality is the light of righteousness, not making its decision based upon class, race, creed or gender. Morality shines within the soul of all, which empowers the force, yet with the corruption of man, it also stains it. In the time of Adam and Eve, morality only knew light. Shadows had yet to cast their fearsome shade upon the soul of man, and it was good. Then, with the dawn of original sin, morality took its present form, a liquid force from which we arise and also the path on which our future will ride forth. To leave on a note of discussion, justice is the decree of the strong over the weak, Hegemony; whereas morality is the soul’s cry for righteousness. The problem lies with the substance of the soul, whose ignorance cannot fully comprehend the depths from which right and wrong arise: Perhaps due to the fluctuation of the universe or rather a simple stain left at the fall of man.

Ode to Lovers Gone

In clouded skies there are no stars
With wounded wings birds cannot fly
On tangled webs spiders catch no feast
So how can I exist without you?

Throw the planets out of line
Regret nothing but I leave what is mine
Now time abandons us with nothing left but this
Can I wonder whose drink should I sip?

I want to interrogate the stars
Steal their eternal secrets
Make a mockery of their endurance
So that we too could last forever

[The more I crack apart the less I bleed, for you
And so I wait my whole life time no longer, for you
I feel no resent, I feel relieved, of you
So now I have my whole life time, without you]

Historians

Today will be a quick release of words, whatever thought comes to mind will be let out. I wonder now, was that first statement planned or a mere flow of subconscious intent? Whatever the cause, it was said, it’s been done, and who has the courage to rewrite history? I cannot say I have that strength. I adore history, for all its faults. If it is the victors who scribe for the future, it must be they who designate the proper from the illegitimate. So rather than trying to rewrite history, to under mind the education of a people, would it not pose easier a task to write history itself? Our generation has been lost to misconception. And perhaps the lies of our time will permeate the next era, but only in new interpretation of the Now can tomorrow be altered.

Caught within Non Existant Days

two tickets to nowhere
returning first-class
existence last a moment
how we long to draw out our lives
do you ever worry
that these are nonexistent days
life frozen between two pages
as a hero’s is, lost within a novel
so dear, I beg you
please take me out of this cruel reality
hold me and recuperate my faith in life

Freedom of Choice

Nothing gives absolute freedom. Materialism sustains us in the state of desire and choice. It would be ridiculous to deny materialism, for matter supports the whole universe and is the only truth a man may successfully defend. The metaphysical is a delusion of the dreamer; heaven and hell are retreats away from the infinite. Although choice provides us with power, that power is ultimately limited. Choice is not so much a freedom as so much a claim to matter. One can decide to buy in or sell out, conform or rebel, to exist or cease –however, there is no escaping the necessity to matter. I might believe that choice is a drug, a manner in which we can accept the infinite and believe our decisions weigh in on the outcome of the universe. As if the sun cares whether earth spins or burns. To provide an immediate example, one all aerobic life can appreciate; I give you the necessity to breathe. We are dependent on the lucid matter of our atmosphere. To believe we can escape this world and travel away into space is preposterous as we would require an infinite air supply to do so. This innate dependence creates human capabilities, or at least defines our potential. When we have nothing, tied down by nothing we are ultimately free. At this point, we become infinite. So perhaps we cannot attain complete freedom, complete infinity, but who says we cannot try? We can do this by denying those redundant decisions, like buying into a fad or complying with cultural demands that fail to improve society.

January 16, 2006

Stature of Man defined by Class:

Society is organized into a triangular prism: the masses supporting the cohort, the cohort supporting the ideals, the ideals supporting the faith. Perhaps I’ve taken this concept too far into the metaphysical, but I do believe in this system so I shall essay my belief. In all civilizations, from the ants to the Aztecs, there are the peasants [Masses], those that defend [Cohort], and finally those that provide the purpose [Head of State]. It has also been a common human device to include an additional chaste, those that philosophize [Ideals]. These men are above the workers, for they elicit the dreams that all common man encompass; yet, they fall short before those that defend for a dream can only exist within a world where it is allowed to develop and grow –it is this world which soldiers defend. The Head of State admires these men, the thinkers and the defenders. It would even be acceptable to state that the most righteous Head of State is one who thinks and defends. Now as I’ve mentioned, this system of society is build with one group supporting the one above it. This being so, the Head of State cannot exist without the masses, though it is feasible that the masses can exist without ruler. If this is so, then what purpose does Head of State serve? -To unite and inspire greatness. Ramses built the pyramids, Caesar constructed the forum and Napoleon inspired the Arc du Triumphe: all these are monuments to greatness. Not only to the Head of States that built them, but also to the masses that supported them.
All in all, a man of esteem and wealth may fault and blame destiny. He may purposely err & claim validation in the name of the human progress –at success a God is born, at failure a tragic hero lived.
On the other hand, a peasant it limited to the success of birthright. He may err, but there is no heaven awaiting him. He may even accomplish great things, but this is no promise to immortality. A great man he may become, yet forever he will remain but a child of God.

Of a Man with Place on Earth, a tiny spot in Space:

Can you ever claim your freedom, ever truly own domain? If I could afford it, I would buy out the heavens and live in between Venus and Mars. I would fence in a range to herd asteroids, allowing them to graze on the Milky Way. My garden would grow in the fringes beyond Neptune. If I could live forever, I’d bottle air and fly a rocket into space. Journey out to the closest nebula and sit to enjoy the show. With enough time on my hands perhaps I’d retrace Magellan’s steps, except on a grander scale throughout the universe instead. Throughout my travels, I would collect souvenirs from every quadrant. Not for scientific study, but rather for whom ever held my heart's desire. However, if she had left before I returned, I’d return them all so that no one could have them. I’d own a little cottage here on earth of course, hidden within the Galapagos. Room with a turtle, and write the greatest oceanic tale ever known. My inspiration would be a ride upon a whale’s behind, journeying to the depths unknown except by sonar. Who never dreamed of silly fantasy? We all do. The real divider between men is realization, who will actually achieve. Now these dreams of mine are too far-fetched, more realistically I long to find a glimpse of truth hidden beneath a crust of imagination. To have a place to call my own; a shanty out in Fiji or a castle in Constantinople both hold a certain charm. It’s not deciding whether to be a peasant or a prince, the question is would I rather be free or enslaved.

A Summary of War

One nation’s greed seeks to exploit another’s weakness
Resources are stolen and innocence is lost
The strong do what they can
The weak suffer what they must
Drastic actions lead to drastic revolution.
Such is the song written of love

The Ignorant in Bliss

I might have been a dropout in love with a girl named margarita
Thinking no world existed outside Mexican mountain ranges
Without you ever passing through my sight
Or ever holding you close for a night
I could have been happy then

I might have never found my way to the Great Lakes Lowland
An excursion planned out so finely by Fate
To end up living so close
Allowing our roads to converge

We may have gone through other courses
With our destinies never crossing
I could have been happy then

On the destiny of Man: Part Three

No god said, “Let there be man”. It was man himself to divide the weeds from the flowers, classified and elevated the homosapiens a rank above all other creation. Yes, it was we, with our over blown ego that decided bacteria were germ and locus a form of pestilence. With that said, would it come to any surprise that God may not have created us in his own image, rather we devised God in our own reflection. There have been human traits attributed to gods, as well as to those beings so inspiring that we, for but a moment, believed they must have been conceived of divine blood. It seems inevitable now that man would become part of that holy pantheon as human creation grew beyond the control of nature: when buildings could stand longer than forests, when a page of text could inspire millennia, when a name could stand face to face with Kronus [sp?]. If the spirit resides in memory, then the afterlife does not exist somewhere transcendent, it only exists in the minds of the future, where no natural force can erode but merely scatter. To achieve immortality would not be to sit amongst the citadel with Christ; it would be to exist forever within the hearts and minds of those who came after. Reincarnation then could occur at any instance, when your spirit influenced a single soul or a nation. How elusive immortality is. Genealogy can become corrupted and foundation forgotten. With such a simple loss of history gods fall as easy as flowers during hail. So maybe we humans aren’t much different than flowers, we both bloom brightly seemingly of godly nature yet we both crumble with the grace of dried sandcastles.
….point being, the only significance of god is to boost our silly egos or simply to justify our measly existence. Very sad.

On the destiny of Man: Part Two

To return to yesterday’s entry, on the significance of God, I must quickly establish myself. Man has forever been in awe of their surroundings. In reverence of the soaring eagle and the beast we hunt; in reverence to the blistering sun which feeds the crops, the glowing moon which brings the tide and the pouring rain that provides substance to all life; in reverence of creation, in both birth and death; and until time ends Man will always revere the unknown –wherever it may reside. It has been common nature in all humans, regardless of which continent they call home, to deify the powerful unknown. We’ve known beastly Gods and Gods of conquest; Gods to each the sun, the moon and rain; Gods of life and death; and lest we forget, a story to recreate man’s conception. Regardless of continent, every human tribe recognizes some form of deity who rules over the vast expanse past human limitations. In the days of story telling education, during which generations were brought up around campfire instead of classrooms, memory was the only textbook available. Before the rise of the scientific method, the inexplicable was attributed to one deity or another. Then, as the universe began to be explained, man became lost. If there was no supremacy beyond ourselves, then what purpose could we serve? I don’t know right now, but I’ll return to this tomorrow.

On the destiny of Man

We all run an inevitable course throughout our birth, life, death and thereafter. That’s not to say our life’s fate is sealed within an unfaultable design, error and action are too strong a force to deny us all a unique and unpredictable experience. Rather we are all connected into the immense infinite known as Eternity. Our tangible and delicate bodies consist of the same properties with which all other matter, throughout the universe, is governed. The fundamental elements that construct our bodies occur within the most delicate flower, most vicious beast, even those cosmic entities light years away. This essential detail submits us all into the discourse of life and death, a reality even the Gods must kneel before. Our entrance into existence is the outcome of a process common in all mammals, embryonic conception. On a larger scale, our existence is the outcome of chaos and chance. Gravity brought our planet together, tectonic movement along side atmospheric development designed our environment, evolution introduced us… and then the Greeks civilized us. Thus, if our birth is of no special concern [neither our death nor decomposition], where do we find substance? God.

Commentary on V.Hugo

“Fate, it seemed, could be as malignant as the human intelligence, as remorseless as the human heart!” -Les Miserable

To describe human intelligence as malignant seems appropriate as the human being can barely accept a concept unless there is an aspect of suffering involved. The entirely beautiful and pure must be tainted before a man can commit himself and contribute to progress. I speak not as a skeptic, I speak as a human. The rise of a nation occurs not when all citizens contribute to its growth, for then it is merely a colony or state. A nation is born when others fear and respect the presence of the united. It is the belief of the Christians that all humans are born with original sin, so not even the innocence of children was exempt from blemish. The idea of financial progress is so skewed that one can only attain wealth through exploitation, for it is more economic to think than do. A million would be enslaved for the tomb of one. That is the extent of human intelligence.

The human heart is even crueler than the mind, for the mind can only create whereas the heart drives inspiration out of the cavern and into the reality of action. At best we can label this act as desire; at worst we must accept it to be a craving. The mind might create a utopia and then the heart would destroy all those who opposed. Love is hardly different from hate; both are passions that blind and incite violence. What the heart demands the soul must present upon its knees in rags. A man once liberated human from sin and offered them a place within God’s kingdom, in return the hearts of those in charge of his life thought it best to release a murderer in exchange for a bribe of coin. Morality is cast aside by the heart, when ambition takes control, replacing consuming desire in its place.

Looking back to the original quote, V. Hugo was right when he said Fate was malignant and remorseless for it sees no difference between beauty and suffering, only seeing progress; it does not divide the wicked from the righteous, instead allotting time for us all to exist.

Of a sexy girl I know

She was restless, left me breathless
Had the sweetest laugh I’d ever hear
Did you see those thighs, those crippling eyes?
A model of divine proportions
I’d die for a night, plead for a flight
Between those legs of grace
If I should rest eternally
Let that place be as sweet as the vales between her breasts
But who could die with her in mind
You see, I’ll admit, she had me turning in delight.

Golden Man

time goes by, yes time ticks by, at speeds approaching the infinite
here we wait, sit, watch and contemplate as space-time marches on
one by one man strides along the edge of existence, believing himself golden
the babble of an ignorant child reverberates at the same pulse of an arrogant man
it seems like days are rarely ever the same, yet there’s no deviation in our nature
so on we stride 2 by 2 off the edge of existence.

Courtship

approaching tenderness we rarely invite
she comes with good intent, seeking to please with a smile
misconceptions precedes true intention
and so i tried to use another path
goals misplaced, paths retraced
yet there’s still no way around
so who dares to push the boarders of self
when rejection becomes the thickest wall
push through just a little, feel just a little
go on, let it hurt just a little

Offspring Takeover

we’re going nowhere fast cause we’re living off the land with the animals we caught
yeah, but it’s not our fault.
[taken from our pride, we’re being left behind
left in apathetic mourning, we've lost too much to our own cause]
the memories will fade & eventually we’ll be replaced
by the twisted youth whom we died to produce
now how is that okay?
So where will you go when the earth has grown old and the sun has gone cold?
Now our time is wasting fast, we’re only an instance in the past
Yeah, whether we continue to turn or dry up and burn is of no concern

On the Author:

in a moment of illusion the scene transforms from blue to white
a stream of mental constipation overcoming the rambling scribe
where once lay fountains of verbal wealth
now remain only ruins of incoherent phrases
to roam and wander amongst the cosmic dust of a dying universe;
to seek out the unaccounted for landscape of our existence
that is the reasoning of those who struggle against time
so we might write against it, in hopes that it may not forget us
communicating to those who have yet to strive for survival
may they revive our loneliness through the tired lines upon
worn pages in a book that was never meant to last

Where was I when the universe began?

Within a singularity, outside of which “no where” existed
No dimensions ruled outside this pregnant dot
Time did not tick, space did not contain
The infinitesimal surged forth from a blinding light
Creating existence in its explosion