The Oracle at Delphi would have us know ourselves and take everything in moderation. I'm really not trying to be too profound, but you know how it goes. This is something I can do, I'm pretty sure, so I'm going to try. One hundred poems in February, all somewhat unique and written within the confines of the month. They're all going to be short and probably not very good, but it's a solid idea to keep the production level up, I'd say, and I guess there might be some people who actually read stuff that I've written here and don't have any overlap with my writings elsewhere, so I might as well update a bit again.
"Bluepill"
I'd much rather
be a battery for some machine
with a present purpose
in my own mini merry mindscape
than fight a war
with your futile resistance.
"Sokrates"
Hey man, slow down,
I know you already
threw back the hemlock,
but please stop
walking around this room,
because I have a few
questions for you.
Do I seem like a virtuous man?
What have I done wrong?
If everything is supposed to be
in its right place,
then where is the promised happiness
that you gave to the just man?
God,
I know why you didn't write anything down,
it's because you were serious when you said
you didn't know anything,
isn't it?
Well
I can't fault you
when you tell me the truth.
"117"
I keep my dark passenger
locked up nine nights out of ten
but right now
he's roaming free
two guns in his hands
mowing down people like they're grass.
It's a little scary
these thoughts I have,
these things I sometimes think
maybe I want to do.
This is an exorcism--
playing target practice with heads.
But then someone else
gets the upper hand
and stabs me
one too many times
in the back.
As my body disappears,
I try not to really think about anything,
as I wait to respawn.
"The Good Life"
Just listening to my grandmother
or taking part in a debate on our beliefs
gives me even more reason to consider my outlook
apolitical.
I think somewhere between
Aristotle and Machiavelli
we forgot that life shouldn't be lived
for science or the future or anything but
yourself, the people you love,
and children if you so choose.
We pay too much attention
these days
to what's happening
in fifty years
rather than tomorrow.
Even worse
is our necessity
to know
what Barack is thinking
when we can't even talk
to the person in bed next to us.
Monday, February 1, 2010
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I like this alot
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