Cyclical Reminisce
Pendulum skips one bang to the bead
Triggers the feeling to turn it off lead
Allows memories to run and circulated
Reminiscing promises you once articulated
Deep in mind are the guilt and regret
Keep looking back and wanted to reset
If only not tempted, no hearts will be broken
If only not lusted, no trust will be fallen
Fridays are bluer since the day of part ways
Laughing is not better than shared as always
Messages are sent waiting for responses
Hoping to be seen even it is now nonsense
Memories suddenly comes in cyclical
The unfold pages comes in unintentional
One day the fate will surely cross again
And surely, that will never cause any pain
Scavenging relentlessly
Some critters find food effortlessly
Like possums, skunks and raccoons
Though not one of them carries a tune...
The arctic wolf rarely fills his belly
~ but at least he can howl at the moon
There's no gnus
like no gnus
if you're a gnu
who likes no gnus
but if you're lonely
and agnother gnu
you'd like to see
as two gnu's company
yes indeed
believe you me
altho' it may
seem absurd
no less than
three's a herd
‘Circling the wagons’
is an absurd cliché
‘Cos even stations-wagons
are out-of-fashion today
What would you say, if you have heard
The news that came today
Or rather you won’t say a word
Just let it go astray
What would you say, or maybe think
To say, but you won’t do
Would you prefer another drink
To help a thought come through?
What would you say on deal of peace
They tried to fix for good
You never knew it would be missed
Or did you know it would?
Come drink my wine, bring up your bread
The music sounds so blue
What would you say if all is said
And done, like you would do?
There will be winds, and bending trees
And sun, and rain, and snow
There will be ships in deep blue seas
And more of things you know
One day there won’t be us, my friend
So won’t you share with me
A word or two, if there’s no end
To the absurd we see?
She will not give up her absurd ideas
No matter how strange, bizarre or unplausible they are
Holding them in her wheel well, ready to toss them out to everyone
Defending them up, down and sideways
She learned this from me.
I am her mother.
Who’s not a victim of absurd
Lend me some rationality
To see the best side of the world
I need your bright reality
Won’t you show me how it works
That I'm charged for the actions of those
I didn't vote for and never trust
What does this paradox logic impose?
How could I disarm the army?
If you know, then please reveal
Bear in mind, its only me
Who you talk to, cause I’m real
Not just rhetorical hallucination
Not what you generalize
Under banner of some nation
With all evil that implies
Its just me, hello, I’m here
Can you tell me, like a friend
What I should expect to hear
From the world, that dreams to end?
No so funny, man,
Feeding me spam,
Morbidly yours, all right,
More verbs, how blight,
Don't waste your words,
You're beyond absurd,
Negative chaff and chatter,
Really does not matter,
Get over yourself,
Get off that shelf,
Go get a life,
Signed, your only wife!
No one believes your spam,
Morbidly yours, now scram!
Zounds!
longing for a
merciful descent into
the terminal ground
where smoky eyes
semi-watch
streams of
semi-(dis)information
exhaled from
smoking brains
on a mission
to search &
deconstruct
ticking clocks
taunt
timely bombs
lost in
purple blobs
of
orange haze
awaiting
purging deluges
sprinkled with
white bolts of
blinding hell
the raving
raven's
feathers flicker
while
flippant tentacles
grope skyward
for
divine decisions
tickling
a sickly brain
that
bemoans
its feckless fate
we shall overwhelm
a sizzling planet
striving for
brief moments of holiness
in a pit of
squirming soothsayers
de-coupling
from
determinism
becoming
tomorrow’s
sorrow
Mercy me!
a pseudo-prayer
crawls out of
a mournful mouth
(“help me Help MeHelpMe!!”)
muttering
monotonic mantras
replete with
rollicking ruminations
reverberating from
titanic implosions
in the dark
deep sea of
terrible time
In conclusion...
simply
beyond
Help
She was called the Lyin’ Tamer.
Absurdity would enflame her.
She could spot a line
way back from foot nine.
She’d decline and who could blame her?
Spending our time
in life’s wondrous rut
hoarding the good times
like a squirrel his nut
hope sagely nourished
by ideas not yet born
the endless dilemma
of the truly forlorn
the heartbreak and anguish
of unlived dreams
deeply buried
in our unleashed screams
spontaneous passion
that dies in a flash
selling our soul
to that demon cold cash
doing something good
every now and again
appeasing and nourishing
our innermost Zen
the yin and the yang
the up and the down
sometimes a prince
and sometimes a clown
rolled up together
and melded as one
when it’s finally all over
and we’re calling it done
the upshot of it all, the nub, the rub
the truly last word
will we look in the mirror and say to ourselves
“It has really all been just a little absurd”
In stoic carnival, emotions juggle,
laughter somersaults on a tightrope of reason.
Epictetus, ringmaster, dons a clown's nose,
philosophy as whimsical sideshow.
Stoicism, circus tent of paradox,
where the lion tamer wrestles inner beasts.
The trapeze of fate swings on absurdity,
as three Moirai perform an acrobatic feat.
Seneca's stoic beard, a magical illusion,
transforms into a confetti-spewing waterfall.
Cynicism rides a unicycle of cosmic irony,
while Zeno's paradox becomes a funhouse mirror.
In a carnival of wisdom turned wild,
stoicism pirouettes on the edge of the bizarre.
Life's absurdities, the grand finale,
a cosmic joke echoing in stoic guffaws.
("Untitled - The Eye of Jihad", 2019, original encaustic)
Love is Love - and other absurd truisms
“Love is love” is like “Follow your bliss”
a way to deflect the moral agency
and subsequent consequence of our desires
with vague equivalency.
It’s like all love and bliss is somehow equal,
which is absurd.
What if my bliss comes from destroying yours?
Or I love abducting, raping, slicing and dicing
then barbecuing
the infant you love…?
Where is the moral equivalence?
This is why the Golden Rule sounds great
up until you are up against a masochist.
And the world today is apparently filled with masochists.
But it’s all good…
At least it feels good,
to think we are all the same, all equal
in what we love and cherish.
The truth is we aren’t.
We may all be made of the same dust,
but that doesn’t make us equal.
Meanwhile the world turns,
a hit soap-opera
in its nth season
spinning relentlessly
a veritable Wall of Death
which in its shocking extreme
delivers some kind of perverse pleasure.
It may not be bliss,
or even what we love,
but it’s certainly captivating.
(11/1/23)
My people and I are threatened all over the world
For me to write of 'flowers and fragrance,' patently absurd
fRaGmEnTs
landed HERE
in time for
the twilight of
life
…where
percussive villains
perform on
a global stage
as glowing slime
slithers
through one
mendacious midpoint
at a time &
earth's spectacles
observe
obscene pentacles
grind down
fragmented souls
battling blustery trolls
blowing ghoulish gusts
amidst charming
charmonia
dancing
the
cha-cha-cha
on a shipwreck
shouting...
OFF->TO->THE->RACES-->
going off
the Rails
in an utterly unforgiving
tunnel
leading to
untimely
ter
mi
na
tion
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