1. Because They Teach.
2. Because They Learn...
Not To.
*****
About Uselessness.
YES
And The Artifice.
(& No.)
3. No!
-Gray Squirrel
When I stare into the crowd
I feel a pain so low
The uselessness I bear
Keeps me away from the glow
Walking around just to keep
warm during the day.
People so hostile saying get out of my way.
As night time approaches, we huggle up in the cold.
In some damp subway making me feel so old.
Rats keep us company their whispers filling the night.
Continuing for hours until the morning light.
Awakened forcefully to another dreaded day.
Picking up my belongings and being told to go on my way.
Hunger fills my soul with regrets from the past.
I really don't know how long I can last.
Carrying life's possessions all in my hands
Walking with no directions along this cruel land.
One of these days I may find my way again.
Until that time arrives, my soul will bear the pain.
My Mind (Worthless Places)
Wholeness of Society
Fighting dredges and
Lowly hearted
Missing graces
Discarded places
Balance the merits
Of the night
Holding light
Resistance to
Fight
Counter uselessness
Discipline to my life
True truths confirm
The blatant lies
Confirming the
Worthless Places
You haunt me so and you interrupted my flourishing flow
You passed through me and couldn’t let me be me…you see?
Like a ghostly soul’s glow…the intensity and frustration will grow
Set my lonely soul free . . . Don’t need permission to be me!
You need me to want you…
You want me to need you…
You taunt me with your fleeting voice
You haunt me so, yet I still will rejoice
You wanted me so badly…
You needed me, but sadly,
I don’t give a dam if you break me
With your water of an ecstatic pressure
I don’t give a hell if you burn unfree
In the oceanic tides of a cursed nightmare
We don’t need this crazed and disoriented confusion
We won’t be able to mend the chaos with tranquility
We shouldn’t be doing this repulsive, impulsive activity
Of fighting for the crown of uselessness and gaining envy
You Feel Your
Mortality As A
Result Of All
Tragedy...
To A Future
Devoid Of All
Dreams...
Dreams And Schemes.
You Sense More Intently,
Confronted, Evidently,
With No Sense Of Health,
And The Uselessness Of Wealth.
Where Pride Rips Aside
All It Seems...
Splits It’s Seams...
Where You're No Longer
Asking Who You're Unmasking...
***
There's Nothing Wrong With That.
Welcome Home.
-Gray Squirrel
09-14-2025
In the cosmic vastness, stars weave dreams of eternal light,
The universe reveals its spontaneous perfection in silence,
Each moment is a window to infinities of desires,
Where the useful and the useless dance in circles of light.
Life is a mosaic of experiences laid upon time,
Expanding the horizon of the soul with each step taken,
In the desire to give, we discover true value,
For only contrast reveals the hidden essence within us.
The universe, a canvas of desires and dreams, shows its beauty,
Each atom vibrates in the eternal dance of energies,
To live is to tread the edge of the unknown abyss,
Feeling the wind of time caress the face with promises.
In the desire to understand, we lose ourselves, but in uselessness,
We find the value of being, mirrored in the pure desire to give,
In the silence between thoughts, perfection becomes a journey,
We dive into depths, seeking answers in silent stars.
We wish to give meaning to each moment, but truth comes,
When we cease searching and let life carry us,
In uselessness, we find the freedom to be, unconditionally,
And in the desire to give, we discover the open soul.
As we live, the utility of life becomes like a shadow,
The universe unfolds like a canvas of hidden perfection,
Everything we call useful finds its essence in the eye of the beholder,
Uselessness reveals its value like a pearl in the depths.
To live is to open like a flower to new horizons,
Which expand the soul, enriching it with shades of light,
The longing to give becomes a search for an unseen meaning,
We embrace uselessness as a treasure of truths.
Within the duality of our desires lies a balance,
Fragile as a silk thread connecting the stars at night,
In the seemingly useless silence, we feel the hidden pulse of the world,
And we understand that each moment becomes an eternity.
Life transforms into a mosaic of experiences and contrasts,
Where the useful and the useless dance in cosmic harmony,
Creating a universe of deep and mysterious meanings,
That carries our soul towards higher and purer understandings.
Everything from the sleeplessness of the the speechless nights, to the uselessness of the clueless days
and in between Meloncoly of serenity;
Sincerely, Solemnly, nothing but vanity
September 6 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Ezekiel 25-27
Key Verse – Ezekiel 25:13 Therefore thus saith the Lord GOD; I will also stretch out mine hand…
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR STRETCHING OUT HIS HAND
Praise be to God for stretching out His hand to:
Deliver us from disaster
Drive us against destruction
Defend us from Devi’s deception
Direct us toward His delightful design
Draw us for His dominion’s destination
Ezekiel 26:20 Praise be to the Lord for
admonishing us against His terror due to our:
Unfruitfulness along our pride
Ungratefulness despite His provisions
Unproductiveness that does not prosper
Unstable personality of perverted preferences
Uselessness, propelled by unfaithfulness in praying
Ezekiel 27:26 Praise be to the Saviour
for being the Source of perfect beauty:
Brightening us by His beams triumphantly
Building us upon His braces of truthfulness
Bestowing us with His blessings along our trust
Buttressing us along His Bible for brave testimony
Boosting our bountifulness toward blissful thanksgiving. Amen!
September 6, 2024
Happy to have reached comfort zone,
They’re content for no good reason,
At peak of uselessness,
Their pigeon-hole no less,
And left with no more ambition.
____________________________
Muses a boss, seeing groups of employees gossiping at an office party.
Limerick |17.07.2024| humour, business
I
Not to dream of you you so much
Now I sleep wide awake...
Even so, I always dream of you!
II
To not see your gaze,
I erased my whole life
pure stupidity and uselessness...
I see you every moment, often!
my poetry is dead and I will follow soon
my words haunt
and I can no longer give them their weight
I always thought I was an opener
that I help those around me, with a word, with my presence, with an idea
but everything was just an illusion
at least if I could cry
but my soul is drier than the desert
barren land on which not even the dunes run
I ground the meat of the words, keeping only the shell for the world
my thoughts run wild to nowhere
and yes, my poetry is dead. at least if I had the forgotness
I guess the question begs for an answer,
at what age does our life start to plummet?
When do all of those eager years of youth,
reach the peak and fall over the summit?
I wonder how old do we have to be,
before we will begin that downhill slide?
Towards that predictable river’s bend,
where uselessness and old age now reside?
Someone tell me exactly when it is,
that I will be knocking upon death’s door?
Face the fact there’s no hope for a future,
and stop asking for just a little more?
I have to admit some good days have passed,
maybe I am far from my youth filled prime.
I’m not going to sit and watch the clock,
waiting for it to sound its final chime.
Some people say I am over the hill,
others say that is being way too kind.
I say that growing old can just kiss my ass,
because age is only a state of mind.
Rip it from my chest
It's beating has no use if it isn't for you
Rip it so finally I can get some rest
It's existence brings me pain so that's the best thing to do
Take it from me,
It's presence brings me nothing but distress
Re-purpose it as something useful like feng shui
Perhaps in a different capacity it's uselessness will impress
Destroy it for me,
Maybe in minute pieces I'll learn to comprehend
The facets that commonly deceive us, might be clearer
The decryption of a human heart will be the means to an end
Burn it,
Finally understanding why pain stings and skin bleeds
Brings me not peace...
Yes clarity is established, but no man can ever accomplish another man's dream without that man
The same way it won't ever beat the same, without you
Six legs, a pair of wings,
a million eyes,
an insect malign.
See,
there it rests upon my naked knee,
its proboscis pumping,
sucking up my precious blood,
and spreading a thousand micro-organisms
that feed upon our fair and sunny isle.
How I loathe and detest your very sight.
There you are,
flying around,
hovering
landing,
tickling,
teasing.
A slap,
but craftily you fly away.
Once such a slap had found its mark,
and Blake saw
life's uselessness
without the reassuring force of worthwhile thought.
A brush and your ancestor died.
Oh, would that fate befall you too,
that you would die,
so I'll find peace...
and calm.
Note: The reference to Blake is another poem by the same name, naturally much better than mine, written by William Blake, English poet and published in 1794 in a book entitled "Songs of Experience".
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