earthslang

Philosophy Tuesday April 24, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 4:24 pm
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We may have been creatures to love and be loved,
Situationally, temporarily, non inherently.

We might have spawned an army of 7 billion without love,
A lustily subjunctive possibility.

Ought we self sacrifice primordial urges and
Confine ourselves to supererogatory purgatory?

Even if we don’t engender lust, our primeval ancestors surely did
Justice to conceiving inter and intra species progeny.

If we hadn’t  engendered love, our now extinct parallel species would have
Bred mutations into being, a metaphysical  possibility.

If we didn’t engender the wrath of social darwinism, other primates did
Designate unnecessary human death as epistemic necessity.
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Who can judge the misfortune of death?

Who is advanced enough in age
To be deemed appropriate to die ripe and old?
To be laid to rest with tears of a life celebrated,
To have a life’s story summarily told.

Is it the 40 year old patriarch of a central African village,
Already the eldest member and the achiever of tribal dreams?
Is is the Japanese centenarian, slipping to the pond by night,
Watering wishes with mind’s still sharp gleam in the light of moonbeams?

Is is the depressed teen girl with only conditional desires
Who threatens suicide without the promise of a rape free future and nightmare erased past?
Is it granny who died peacefully in her sleep or car crash dad driving drunk again?
Is it the homeless boy beat dead in the streets, the thousands in death camps being gassed?
The vet whose insurance ran out before dialysis did, sister stoned for uncovering her head,
Suicide bomber dying for just causes, the loser of life’s deadly race coming in last?
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Contemporary Fountains of Youth

They say the end of one’s days
Are a mental stagnation,
The loss of one’s members,
The body’s summation.

Scientific advances
Combat resignation.
Cryonics, bionics,
Our social salvation.

Life supports yielding
Carnal transformation
Will strengthen the life force or
Maintain vegetation.

Categorical goals,
Through life education
Prevent brains from knowing
Mental starvation.

Transforming death with
Mental remotivation,
Psychological life
Is death’s imagination.
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A Riddle

It’s only awake when sleeping,
Stagnantly keeping imaginary mobility.
It’s only tasting life while fasting,
Nectar of gods feeds deluded instability.
Only hating its only lover,
Loving the emotional lability.

Living extra extrinsically,
Riding the fastest shadows.
Living unvapidly vicariously,
On metropolitan Thoreaus.

Emotional production parasite,
Vomiting experience summarily,
Or burning off the manic excess
With mental vivacity, voluntarily.

Cynic of metaphysical materialism,
Defying known senses, sneering,
Self declared dystonic iconoclast,
Writhing when forensic fogs start clearing.

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an elemental grounding March 14, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — earthslang @ 11:18 pm
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Low ambient interference,

Tooth throb eclipsed by metered mental ache,

Sweating stupor,

Sluggish dream.

I revert to the elemental longing

And call out my grandma from the dead.

She is the constant hum

behind my left ear.

Not my conscience;

those were invented by frustrated mothers and fathers.

She is an at will hallucination of balance,

Originating and existing like earthworms

That spend entire generations

Underground

With their minerals and roots

Without the yellow sun

to tempt undeveloped imagination

and inflict seasonal affectation.

 

She speaks grounded, from the ground

Consciousness stable in her earth without quakes,

Directing me to remember her last words to me.

And I recall her sweating and frail

Twisted in hospital bed sheets

Desperate to remind me

To water the earth that holds us.

 

And now her voice is as forceful as her character

Like the gods we knew.

And I’m confused by

The unemoted sympathy.

“Am I still your granddaughter?

I know I put on layers of facades since you died but

It’s still me.

No one else but me and you can help me right now.

And right now, my self hypocrisy is burning through me

Like caustic acid.

And I keep getting knocked over

When I try to run.

And I keep getting up and my mouth keeps forcing cracking smiles

When my own body tells me to stay down

And listen to the ground.”

 

And my grandma answered,

“Your pain is beside the point;

Your pretentions are irrelevant;

Your shift change amusing but insignificant.

It’s of little consequence what you or your species stands for.

Your representations are presumptious and your whimsies, capricious.

You ignorantly mistake the rare come-by disillusionment for wives’ tales.

Your fears are dragonflies twirling toward death by bewilderment.

But don’t pretend to me that you don’t know what you are

And why you called me out.

 

In this inverted dimension,

You are me

And we are both composed of ancient elemental stardust.

Never let anyone convince you that you are insignificant;

You are the infinite universe and all that is in it.”