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4.03.2012
3.11.2012
Twilight
What can a person aspire to- if he cannot trust his mind? With so much at stake, opportunities become foggy, ideas become mere ideas.
Ambition is nothing if nature objects. The most opportune moments echo failure, not for lack of will, but inability. How can this be overcome? When can I decide to risk my own word and jump at an idea?
How crippled am I? Is it in my mind?
11.19.2011
Argument
I often engage in argument for its own sake- not to be contrary, but more "for sport" or to enjoy the critical thinking it requires. It asks to orbit the subject on all sides
This kind of mutually entertaining argument cooperates with a few understood standards
perhaps I presume those who argue with me are up to the same challenge
7.02.2011
of life and death
when you die-
when your conscious frame is bare,
what will become of this?
all the tastes,
familiar textures,
the slight din of silence
the cool rain,
a pebble's weight and shape,
any and all-
you will not remember it.
it will all be sent away
left behind
it will triangle down the horizon
to a point you'll never see again
no voice will echo in your thoughts,
the colors and disposition of life-
will it not all fade as a steam
and be considered no more?
death is its own. resolute and final.
the transaction begs no introduction.
what has been will be no longer.
what, then, of life?
does it concern itself with death?
life goes about its duty
of forgetting death,
cheating and mocking the grave.
there is no reverence in the halls of young men
life is but an endless avenue
of gain and waste, gain and waste
when your conscious frame is bare,
what will become of this?
all the tastes,
familiar textures,
the slight din of silence
the cool rain,
a pebble's weight and shape,
any and all-
you will not remember it.
it will all be sent away
left behind
it will triangle down the horizon
to a point you'll never see again
no voice will echo in your thoughts,
the colors and disposition of life-
will it not all fade as a steam
and be considered no more?
death is its own. resolute and final.
the transaction begs no introduction.
what has been will be no longer.
what, then, of life?
does it concern itself with death?
life goes about its duty
of forgetting death,
cheating and mocking the grave.
there is no reverence in the halls of young men
life is but an endless avenue
of gain and waste, gain and waste
when you die-
when your conscious frame is bare,
what will become of this?
all the tastes,
familiar textures,
the slight din of silence
the cool rain,
a pebble's weight and shape,
any and all-
you will not remember it.
it will all be sent away
left behind
it will triangle down the horizon
to a point you'll never see again
no voice will echo in your thoughts,
the colors and disposition of life-
will it not all fade as a steam
and be considered no more?
death is its own. resolute and final.
the transaction begs no introduction.
what has been will be no longer.
what, then, of life?
does it concern itself with death?
life goes about its duty
of forgetting death,
cheating and mocking the grave.
there is no reverence in the halls of young men
life is but an endless avenue
of gain and waste, gain and waste
when your conscious frame is bare,
what will become of this?
all the tastes,
familiar textures,
the slight din of silence
the cool rain,
a pebble's weight and shape,
any and all-
you will not remember it.
it will all be sent away
left behind
it will triangle down the horizon
to a point you'll never see again
no voice will echo in your thoughts,
the colors and disposition of life-
will it not all fade as a steam
and be considered no more?
death is its own. resolute and final.
the transaction begs no introduction.
what has been will be no longer.
what, then, of life?
does it concern itself with death?
life goes about its duty
of forgetting death,
cheating and mocking the grave.
there is no reverence in the halls of young men
life is but an endless avenue
of gain and waste, gain and waste
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