Poems written on new year

Poems written on New Years

Tell me not, I don’t want to hear,

Chide me not, My dumb deaf ear,

Find me not, Here nor there,

Please me not, I’m not there,

See me not, Vision fails,

Sigh not Like deep sea Whales

When thought encumbers

When restful Slumbers are not are not enough

When time ruins all and times are tough

When I’m Alone and Isolation's rough

Then I will see, this blissful peace,

Enlighten my eyes like the sun of the east,

Though wisdom wakes, where wisdom slumbers

Enough time sure goes under,

Under the sea under the earth,

Under the thunder of wheat and myrrh,

Under the skies under the lilies,

I find myself here a lot,

Under the lines of old tin pot,

Though beholds life precious beam,

The oversoul sky, The seen and unseen

More light for us to see,

More code on a screen

Deceivers often trying us, Coloring outside the lines,

Telling us are minds are swept, Trying our precious fate,

Life is what you create, Pause and take your birth,

This is our fun play date, Man falls on his own lust,

Then is swept into dust,

Our condition is fallen, don’t you know,

Authoring some hellish hate, This sad climb is all I know,

Until the day I go below,

Before god spoke us into being, He knows our light cause He’s all seeing,

Omnipotent creator god, Made angels with his sob,

Gave light to the earth, The light was good!

We all hung out in his neighborhood.

Mind your manners son, Death beckons,

They’ll save you from the rage that Death Wreck-en's,

A black tar pit Where Satan lay’s,

Lulling us to fallseto sleep, A hell space with hellish sheep,

A smokey pit that’s very deep, a way of fear in a dreamless land,

With a fiend to make demand, with iron rod where thunder’s stand,

Where in heaven will we find the charity to right this wrong,

The psalmist wrote this very note,

A harp that’s tuned to fit this song.

Making up for whats uncouth, A drowning man steeped in drouth,

The unjust the just to save, Before hes in the grave, A deathless slave its better to be,

Than an unjust death gave,

An honour its been to walk this earth with angels: over me,

Feel their spirit, walk with them, let them set you free.

In hell and love, This charity I hold dear,

A messiah to save my soul, God made me, me, and i sure that was his goal,

His plans are his my plans are mine, I find myself inside his line,

The skies above me, I am sure they love me,

There are doves in them, Oh how lovely!

A corvid only lives some years, To see a play of jolly fears, Making joy their own,

The graces my friends, the angels lovely, Why do all the spirits hug me?

Love and light, Light and love, Through him that walks the waves, Through the dear might! Although faith we may have some, The darkness grows but light is fun, The caress of the moon and the gentle sun, Gentle love, bliss peace and love and light, through the dear might!

-

Volition is the intuition, the ability, the simplicity. Earnest endeavoring is the noble form of making something, creating, inscribing, observing, detailing, and being creative. We’ve been stuck on survival mode, beast mode, reckless chaos mode and revolutionary mode, This is where the change and progress is made. The times are changing so fast it’s almost hard to keep up but to remain abundant in change though, and I heard this from a monk one time “don’t be careless.” I think it’s within us to help each other because our human frailty, we were meant to give each other peace. To earn bliss in this messed up place. You meet saints everywhere, they could be any body, they are people behaving decently in an indecent society. I know nothing ,therefore I know everything. I think the times are weird, people are weird, and there getting stranger by the minute. This is a strange time after all. Pandemic diseases, people dying, homelessness, Divorce, social media, legacy media, gen z, gen x, boomers, greatest’s. Unfortunately through this time we’ve seen death and loss, we’ve had our fair share of misfortune, also some things redeeming through whatever the hell this was. Happiness requires struggle they say, well, I sure am struggling. Struggling it is, ill take it a day a time if I have too, sometimes its hard to do regular people shit; Like work a full time job, feed myself, do dishes, clean the toilet, I have some days where if the only thing I do is take a shower to make sure I am clean that’s a success. We contend with an live in an imperfect world. I have some ideals that are less than perfect and some that make it seem worth saying. I believe reading and writing the literature from interesting people in the past calls forth our better self and also nourishes. I think that was said by Kurt Vonnegut correct my fault if that’s not it. The former less than perfect ideal I am talking about here is some less than idealistic goal setting. For me it seems like low hanging fruit. Ill quit drinking for a year, or ill go a month without tobacco, ill keep a beard until I look like Gandalf. Some of those things aren’t all that bad, who doesn't want to have a beard like a wizard and staying dry can fix bad health (Wizard beards probably appeal to the beer drinking demographic.) The later ideal is just an interest in seventeenth century art and philosophy which by all means bores some people to death, although I actually like it enough to be beside myself looking at a portrait of n old pair of boots.

Its worth noting that witchcraft or modern Magic seems relevant to things nowadays although I am unsure about the ramifications or cultural history of such things. I don’t know the Rituals behind some of these practices but that’s taking something unknown and making it implicit. Things like ghost’s and visions and priests and worshipers have a way of making the guilt ridden more hopeless in a post modern world. Also human frailty and secular faith make the practitioners seem more shamanic and disillusioned. Social media has a wide proliferation of the wannabe occultists although not every satanist I see making it into the mainstream. Social media is used by millions of people from almost every demographic so seeing the implications culture and belief systems has on this is cool. Television evangelist’s have been around for decades if not generations but the emerging media and immediate availability to some of that stuff is inherently interesting to me.

The technological revolution o the I-pod alone brings me a small amount of happiness, as I can get a digital file and watch the green bar fill up the hard drive. I’ve alt of fond memories listening to my I-pod as a tween dweeb on the way to school. There is a lot more interesting way’s the technological revolution brought on then me listening to new found glory on the way to school as a sophomore. Firstly the AI or machine learning aspects of laptop computers and video game engines and engines controlling software in general. Then there are video game consoles which never cease to amaze. With game studios like from software with their souls franchise or Elden ring to now defunct studios like tell tale (Those were easiest to get the elusive platinum trophies) to developers like big budget re-spawn with their titan-fall to newbies following tutorials trying to program a temple run-esque game in unity, These technologies are getting good. Faster WiFi speeds help so you can binge play your favorite cal of duty map while listening to a gaming mix on Spotify or binge watch your favorite nextflix special. For me it is all about fl studio and cigarettes and sound cloud and NPR and twitch and J-6! and Kindle. The attention culture of the age we live in is simple for some but for others much more confusing. I have memories of these types that could continue at nauseam.

Ghost’s as exemplified by certain people like Kant were even compelled to believe that the disembodied spirits lurked places. Apparitions that we know as ghost's are supposedly people whos souls haven’t yet found eternal rest. People like Augustine and Aquinas believe you have to make peace with the almighty. A vision, that which one sees in his waking life are the common world expressing where are energies might go. Like descartes who saw apparitions or pehaps it was bacon but they were seventeenth century greatest’s who were artists and philosophes. The vision you see may perhaps be tended to through the spirit of the age in which we are in. As a pure conscious may not be so pure if it is tainted with the notions of others imprinted on your pyche. In modern magic they are called visions.

-

Over your cities grass will grow

The neoclassical machinery in other words is a cosmic rebounding between ruin and growth, between alignment and alienation. Under the rubble of a many micks and muddles and ruins descrying trouble and tombs of the spirits souls. With them there is a balance judged by the stars. If we flew to the moon in a depressing can of chicken stock, if we pierced the alley-way like the happy and gay little flock. If we danced through the firelight all night every night, if we kissed like lovers do and that’s everything we knew? If we drank to our health? If you’ve wished upon a star you seen flying very far? If the day was hard all along and all you managed was fair? If today was a bad day and it was only for today? If tomorrow will be better better in every way? If every day it rained while you only wished for smoke? If the fog seems endless would you take a toke? If heaven and hell were far apart but you really couldn't tell.

If you would cast your thoughts away into a universal tapestry, the cosmic minds would sway. The flux of the moment in every given day, the stores of your love you stored deep away? The silence you asked to speak wishing it would say. Hoping with out hopes, scoping without scopes. Cracking up with laughter with nobody around to laugh, the ballet is pretty empty with nobody to dance. The stars our distant lovers the moonshine hugs our brothers. If you were there when madness beckons would you be kind to deaths grace? If I died tomorrow would you remember my face? If like a storybook of old times we expiate ourselves for the sake of love to find each others embrace. Let’s Swim to the moon like that gone Nemean prince, Lets swim to the moon and have ourselves a rinse. What hurt can come from loves kind remembrance. A Peter Bruegel Russian winter paints my day, Ezikeal saw the heavens open when you walked my way, If I died tomorrow would you know exactly what to say today? If there are as many hearts as they’re minds

-Well there are I counted them

If they’re many hearts

-Would you like to recount them?

I just thought there are as many loves as there are hearts that’s all.