Posts Tagged ‘struggle’

“Damn it, Farlow! Just bones in them arms? Got any grit?”

Douglas Farlow’s supervisor growled these words from a head atop a pair of ubermacho shoulders. Doug, on the other hand, was “average”, which is a merciful way of saying he was weak and frail. He had been loading the 50 pound buckets of spices into the truck for over 15 minutes. His arms ached like hell, but not as badly as his soul.

Doug knew he wasn’t cut out for this. It wasn’t just a matter of his physical strength, it was also the fact that he knew in his heart that he was meant for something different. Not something BETTER (except for HIM, that is), just different. He had been sending his poetry series, “Beauty in a Nihilistic World: God Save the Overman”, to both small and large presses for weeks. Meanwhile, his rent was due….which is what landed him at the Toyler Grove Spice Company hauling buckets into trucks for hours on end. He thought if only….

“DAMMIT FARLOW!!! GETCHA BLOODY HEAD OUTTA THE CLOUDS! PUSSY!”

Doug dropped the bucket right then and there, finally facing his fears of the supervisor. He would walk right up to the talking sack of meat and tell him what for.

He marched stoically towards his tormentor and put his face inches from the man’s head (chest, to be more accurate. Douglas was quite a short man).

“Well?” Barked the supervisor. “Boy got sommat to say?”

Doug wanted to tell the red, pulsing nincompoop that he was a belligerent, grimy, uneducated fool. When confronted with a stronger man, Doug would imagine the muscled brain attempt to digest a passage from Nietzsche (this gave him a good laugh and permitted him sleep). Doug wanted to tell his superior, as well as the rest of the world, that he had nothing but contempt for a CERTAIN kind of working man – one who bemoans the meek, scientific man…who believes that the only real work is achieved through sweat and repetition (“That’s all right,” thought Farlow. “Automata will soon replace all the toiling human beings.”).

Doug felt the same way about the celebrities…they may have lived in luxury, but they still thought themselves better than the average joe (especially if the Joe were scientific). Politicians were even worse, for at least celebrities had no pretense about TRYING to appear as upstanding, moral individuals. All the greedy trolls in Congress did the same thing as the sex stars, but they masqueraded it with the appearance of selflessness and the giving of alms (much less than they could truly give). It was only an appearance, for they were in actuality the rich, powerful elite.

Will….the domineering will to succeed….POWER is the key to all success upon this planet…..that is–

“You’re fired, you pussy!”

Doug left without saying a word, went to his apartment, and climbed into bed, having intense nightmares about machines and big, brutish men. If only the poor man would realize that though he himself felt judged by all his flawed conscience saw as superior, he himself judged the people of Earth with an even dirtier harshness. We can only pray that the words “hope”, “compromise”, and “release” will someday have meaning for him.

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I see the spiders before you do

For they are my brethren

My small, ugly countrymen who scurry in the dark

 

Just like the insects

The flies

The bacteria, contaminating nothing but my mind

I think it’s on everything

 

Cracks

River bed veins

Petrol, oatmeal, vitamin E

Boils of pus, infected

Look how clean I am

 

The sink

The tub

My altars to the clean

Where I scrub the day’s success away

Mere failure lies beneath

Maybe it’s just…ME who is filthy

 

Wash my self off myself

 

Gaze into my mind

Don’t worry, this abyss is too drunk to stare back

Inebriated, toxic

Like how I relate with all my loves

 

Psychotic–how I’m to be

Always at the floor on bended knee

I should love my Master

Rather, I grovel at His feet

 

I’ve washed my fingers

I’ve washed and I’ve prayed seven times today

Hoping my loves will perish not

Lecherous crisis – come see what I’ve wrought

 

Scar tissue, with bruises

Marks on a shattered mirror

It was a smudge to begin with

Smeared with the weakness of weakness

 

So soft…

 

Perhaps another pill will help

A capsule, sublingual

Washed down with inverted ambrosia

 

Oh, no

 

You’ve hurt your loves again

 

Cease! No more talking to yourself

Talk to the Answer instead

I’ve cast this shadow all on my own

Please, lift away the darkness

 

Yellow star at dawn

Brighter…

 

Brighter

It’s chased me for a long time now, me and my family. None of us ran at first. We were curious. We wanted to see if it could give us the things we craved. Pleasure, security, excitement, confidence – and the beast did actually hold up on his promise. For a while.

But then, those things it gave us began to diminish, and it gave us new things instead.

Despair. Anguish. Fear.

We did run then. And, I’m not sure how I feel about this, but I ran the fastest. I had a second family now, and I didn’t want the beast to chase them too. I’m overjoyed that I’ve outrun it for the past few years, but I am also crushed over the fact that some of my loves aren’t running fast enough.

I’d do anything to change this. I’ve ever prayed, quite irrationally, for my happiness to be taken away and given to them. But I don’t think a prayer like that is really a solution.

The best and only thing I can do is keep running and pray my loves catch up. I feel like I’ve escaped most of the time, and I have, in a way, for I don’t let the demon touch me anymore.

But sometimes I feel his harsh breath on my neck and shoulders, and I have to run even harder. I’m always running, even when people think that I’m not.

Even when they’re proud.
(Can anyone guess what this is about?)

Will it occur?

Is it more than a dream?

I wish it were

But nothing’s as it seems

I’m so sick of the good ones out there

They have it all so I will not fight fair

Finally make them listen to me

My heart screams

Is this a town?

Or just my terrarium for all to look down?

I’m a non sequitur

I do not compute

Wanna tell the world

But my soul is a mute

Maybe someday I’ll break out of this cage

Wander the earth and pretend I’m a sage

I feel I’m less than nothing

I can see it in their eyes.

But I’ll be something, more than nothing

Soar through the skies.

“Shades of Night”
(Inspired by Milton’s “Paradise Lost”)
Time to tear some copyright.
Cuz with my soul fled the shades of night.
What is the night anyway?
Lack of vision? Lack of design?
Or something to block purpose right out of the sky?
I believe in all these things. But there is one doctrine more. It’s the tale of searching til the morn.
How can purpose be found
If we arent pushed to seek
How are we strong
If we aren’t at first weak?
I believe that night will fade.
And we shall discover our souls of jade.
Because even in the deepest dark
There is still hope for the brightest of stars.
Here comes one, then a hundred more.
Til there are millions of pin pricks above the shore.
U at last there comes the finale.
Our own sun seems to leave the galaxy.
And morning
Yes, morning has come.

 

“Death”
(One of my hard rock songs)
Trapped inside, machines and screens.
But if I got a pen and paper it’s all I need.
I need a new equation wanna find the answer
But if I keep on screaming I’ll get cathartic cancer.
Caged inside, this place I’m in
I tore her life apart, therefore I am sin.
I’m terrified my loves will not see the light
But I’ll be counting on my God to make things right.
I fought the demon
When I was in hell.
The graveyard’s a treason
I won’t believe in
Why are we put here
I don’t wanna die.
Cuz I don’t see
The dreams comin true
You want me
To fight the fight through you
Can we be saved
By Jesus from this hell
I love you
And you love me
Locked inside, this place I’m at
I’m swearing cuz my innards they feel so trapped
So tired of us always sitting in rooms
There’s more to life so let’s be brave and find us something to do.
Stuck alone, again and again
Are we afraid to die or afraid to live?
The hardest part of the life in the cage
Is that we are always continually consumed by rage.
I fought the demon
When I was in hell
Graveyard’s a treason
I won’t believe in
Why are we put here
I don’t wanna die.
Cuz I don’t see
The dreams comin true
You want me
To fight the fight through you
Can we be saved
By Jesus from this hell
I love you
And you love me