Only rarely does someone stand up, rise up
And draw the multitudes in
Into the sacred space
That includes us all
And yet somehow eludes so many.
Such is the nature of free will,
We can all screw up, again and again and again.
What did Charlie do to deserve
To be assassinated? Nothing.
What did he do to bring it on nonetheless?
He met people as equals wherever they were,
He tried to raise everyone up,
And he did more to get out the conservative vote
Than anyone in generations, if ever.
Apparently, treating others as equals
And getting out the vote for your side
Is enough to get you killed
Because, I guess not everyone wants to be equal
Some want to be “special”,
With all the special rights that implies
And not everyone wants a level playing field
When it comes to politics and campaigns and elections.
What those people want
Is special privilege and advantage
And dead opponents.
So it is, and so it may be
But, if that’s the game you want to play
Be prepared to die a martyr
To a useless, meaningless, nihilistic cause.
It’s called a self-fulfilling prophesy.
(8/7/26)
“To be or not to be”, was Hamlet‘s sole question.
We’ve a common conundrum, that’s my confession.
Burn bridges or mend fences, in my discretion…
I stand above them, pistol heavy in my hand.
They cringe before me, she’s sobbing and he’s unmanned.
My mind’s really roiling, though my expression’s bland…
She surely did me wrong, there’s truly no dispute,
In flagrante delicto, they cannot refute.
Leaves me such a dilemma, achingly acute…
The Lord tells us “Vengeance is mine, I will repay!”
Also “to forgive is divine” didn’t he say?
How is a mere mortal to decide the right way…
But wait! “Nature weeps”, a pathetic fallacy
As “either or” is just a false dichotomy
In reality both are merely sophistry…
Should I mend the fence? Overly optimistic.
Should I burn the bridge? Aptly apocalyptic.
There is another choice, neatly nihilistic…
My attention was caught, resolution was sought.
The decision was fraught, it’s a Gordian knot
Hamlet’s vexing question solved with a single shot…
New intent nicely teased, and tension slightly eased.
My mind now appeased, prior predicament ceased
With resolve swiftly pleased - the trigger slowly squeezed…
If I could go back in time,
I’d go back to when I believed in soulmates
the way I believe the stars in the night sky
guide us to a predetermined destiny.
Poorly illuminated by the moon,
leaving you to seek yourself intentionally.
Well,
I’ve learned you can throw away fate
when you make an extremist choice,
deviating against that destiny.
Like salmon in the springtime,
we kill ourselves only to respawn,
and reinvent new regret
in search of things we think we need
but already possess.
Now,
I don’t mean to come off as nihilistic or depressed,
but I’m slowly starting to stop believing in prepackaged outcomes,
and have come to the conclusion
that only children believe in soulmates.
At least I did when I was a kid.
Now I know for certain,
love only exists when it’s convenient,
and the stars, more often than not,
pick favorites.
Let's love one another and take the hand of
Even those with a differing opinion-as free speech is important but
Today's narrative divides and is
Spoken to separate the human race into two. The
Blame game is played by the hypocrites who are
Encouraged to follow blindly to catchphrases
And words without proper research.
So they chant words to divide and fly flags of other nations. For
Oppression is fast approaching us and the
Nihilistic view that was in the minority is becoming the view of the majority.
Entitlement should never be expected or given- earned through blood, sweat
... and tears
The day, the soil lab took care of him, and I sighed
Categorical exclusion, You were there, but almost Nye!
My outspoken, my hidden, my own darker trace
My grace, rancid disgrace, my song and my own mess
Did I ever tell you? I loved you with all my heart, I loved you all!
I had no desire, there, my nihilistic call, they are not an easy Pickthall!
I startled, I stumbled , I ran, I walk and I snore, sneeze and yawn!
I craft and in my propeller shaft, I fly, with flying try, I try simply not to frown!
These are not all stemming from me, these are the imprinting gemstones of praying tea
You are a done deal only to compose , not to take heed before you even try to say, once again to me!
These are white lies, your sweater moment drops on your life, legend and universal truth
And all they say is to look after your giggling imagism before it handles him too, to soothe beneath the bluetooth!
April, 2025
(Twelve beautiful lines )
~Running~ death steps behind ~ don't stop to tell how close.
Swallowing a clump of cacti. Throat skewers.
Aubergine blood clots. Cough, life's wick smaller.
Struggle effective so long ago, like swinging axes,
which kerf felled the tall tree and brought the timberwolves sorrows?
Can't celebrate on broken lips ~nihilistic providence~
the cancer of Hope eating body as it canonizes soul.
Roasting in this blue basilisk without a cloud over Hell,
lassoed by titian sands, shall our desert enshrine martyrs' bones?
Real education
starts
when the university
fades
in your rearview mirror
Its nihilistic
narrative
disappearing
in the mist
Umbilically
the ties
are cut
as light
comes rushing in
The wax of
dead
banal professors
— melting in the past
(Dreamsleep: March, 2025)
Ai is utilizing metadata to grow.
It is allowed to steal from others.
Red flag: Copyright ©? Infringement.
Why have you all not stopped this_?
You are feeding the machine destroying art.
“It is a machine, artificial.”
Yeah so are you and I would complain the same.
Some of us are not art-official.
Some of us are flawed.
Some of us are human.
If you post a single poem after reading this...
You are complicit in poetry’s downfall.
Humanity will fall slowly after.
Easy math, so what are you all doing_?
Just laying bent over a log waiting for a phallus,
fungus is already global, waited long enough.
Put your foot down, draw a line, and lay down the law.
Not that difficult, hard part I just did for you.
Back to Work... I have other matters to attend to.
You set the tone, you decide if it is a tool or your replacement.
No one else, grow up, it is time to stop being kittens.
Start being lions.
I would say good luck, you don't need it.
Just need to stand up, say enough is enough.
Tadah.
Panacea.
I am not nihilistic or cynical.
I have faith in the species, have faith in yourselves.
a
nihilistic
hobby horse
in a sense
of outrage
in
hysterical
fragments
of time
of
multiple
manifestations
in the incoherent
moving
in
a condensed
cadence of rhythmic
random harmony
transfixed
in
a lateral
displacement
embodied
in
still
life
struggling
to
move
guile
The coldness of your methodical emptiness
shrewdly poisoned me with a darkness
Unavoidable.
I'll make it, some how.
You tainted me with rugged blood,
I saw it splatter over the spacious past unto
The nihilistic future of all saints and devils.
But, why?
There's something to your non verbal speech
I'd love to find out.
We listen to your silence
The very thing that permeates our surroundings.
And find utter nothingness.
You committed suicide,
We won't make it if you are sleeping on the job.
Somehow, we believe you rose from hellfire,
Yet still flagrantly asleep in a world where you
Never existed.
Explain this corruption now breathing in our veins?
And if it's all the same to non-existent you,
It's killing us just the same.
In Zen's embrace, we find the void,
A nihilistic truth, often destroyed.
No meaning, no purpose, all fades away,
In stillness and emptiness, we choose to stay.
The world's illusions, they come and they go,
Like ripples on water, a fleeting show.
In nothingness, we find a profound peace,
Where attachments and desires finally cease.
No gods, no masters, no grand design,
Just the present moment, pure and divine.
In Zen nihilism, we let it all be,
Finding freedom in the vast, boundless sea.
Zen Nihilism
Zen is a school of Buddhism .
Cessation of sufferings is taught by Buddhism.
Nihilism believes no realism.
At least Buddhism follows some enthusiasm.
Nihilism is based on nothingness.
Buddhism tries to show path of happiness
through wisdom transcending Nirvana, nevertheless.
Both agree concept of existence of God as baseless.
Phenomenon of Nihilism : Secular and atheistic
So Buddhism is considered passively nihilistic.
Nihilists. say, 'Nothing to be considered realistic.
Buddhists say, 'Right and Wrong are two characteristics .
Love, wisdom and purity are concept of Buddhist.
Nihilists don’t believe in moral code on continuity.
Nihilists obey only nothingness as extreme entity.
Buddhists choose midway approach eternity.
Spontaneity leaves behind the ego,
effectively being a state of no mind,
wherein with no urge to either come or go,
cravings related to form are left behind.
Awareness self-aware, in staid stillness slow,
thus escapes clutches of narrow fears that bind.
Zen is not negation but celebration,
invoking God’s grace for our life’s duration.
The concept of emptiness in any ism,
is oft mistaken as a passive approach,
we deem nihilistic as an aphorism
but in truth this practice is above reproach.
Once empty, God’s light ignites our body prism
leaving within no room for thoughts to encroach.
Our doubts recede, when we become the answer,
frolicking with joy, like a cosmic dancer.
And signifying nothing, upon life’s stage
meaningless, endless, a cruel war he waged
Fretting and strutting, as the curtains narrowed
Out, out, foul vegan, who doth hate man’s marrow
Comes back for encore, to be mocked, and broken
Having found mere hate, vaunting the unspoken
A shadowless ghoul behind faint shrills of woe
Sans a candle, roams hell’s abattoirs below
A dedication of respect on the
nihilistic tragedy of Macbeth
# # #
Bastardised here indeed
but more so each day by
a bard who flunked all meaning in life
# # #
Yet has somehow found faith
in putrid flesh eating flowers
# #
No doubt whilst searching for a niche
on the last syllable of soybean @urd
By
David Kavanagh
--Reapers Dreams--
Met the grim reaper in my dreams. Tried to put it on pause and he used a chainsaw to hack off my legs.
Death always finds a way to make sure I don’t walk into the light.
I look unto the abyss. Without surprise, the abyss looks back.
Infinity, as a dead star…Limitless potential, devolving into a clutter of nihilistic absinthe. Liquidating the insides of materialism. Yet, remaining in the prison.
The realm of vision.
Extraordinary imagination. A cosmos of gravity, the weight takes hold.
May one ever have a moment of silence, in the fireworks of oblivion?
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