The Kite

Don’t know how to keep you here:
strings and fingers disappear
in the sun where we’re one
as you fly up to the sky.

You taught me how to play,
how to laugh and how to say
that my fear disappeared
like a kite adrift at midnight.

And I did what you said to do,
tied a knot and away we flew.
And we never came down
to the shrieks from the ground.

Don’t know how to set you free
to fly away in a summer’s breeze…
Tied tight like some kites
to the ones we’ve become.

And I did what you said to do,
tied a knot and away we flew.
But you never did seem
to be more than just a dream…

Much more than just a dream…
Much more than just a dream…

 

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Shine Our Smiles Away

Sunlight, shine our smiles away.
Your beams light storms inside my soul
today.

But rain’s my role.
These clouds make you whole.

The lightning is this song I rain.
It hides the thunder in its call
again.

But light’s so small.
It’s darkness, that’s all.

Our storm will sweep up everything
that’s buried by my rain.

Why shine today?
Why shine today?

I see you in the warm ahead.
I see you in the warm ahead.
I feel you in the warm ahead…

 

My Dark Garden

Sunbeams at break of day
might shine through the words I say,
but all that’s bright
can never light
these songs I sing for you.

Hide on my shadowed throne,
tending nightmares alone.
All my dark garden’s grown
is everything that you have ever feared.

And so when I sing my rhymes to you
do not pluck their bulbs so beautiful.
Do not smell scents shrouded in blues.
Do not taste their flavors of evil.

Everything I’ve ever said, I said it all for you,
to steal all that you have loved and feed the light in you.

Sunbeams at break of day
might shine through the words I say,
but all that’s bright
can never light
these songs I sing for you.

Here on my shadowed throne
where nightmares grow on their own
I sit, and I cry alone
for everything that you have ever…

Love is not what we’ve all been taught,
and truth is not something that’s forgot.
Pain is what we’ve been taught is love.
Truth can grow below to light above.

Everything I’ve ever said, I said it all for you,
to light the way that you must go with knowledge in these hues.

Sunbeams at break of day
might shine through the words I say,
but all that’s bright
can never light
these songs I sing for you.

Hide on my shadowed throne,
tending nightmares alone.
All my dark garden’s grown
is everything that you have ever feared.

The Hermaphrodite (from “The Tree Outside My Window”)

The_Tree_Outside_My__Cover_for_Kindle (1)

The Hermaphrodite
(from The Tree Outside My Window)

Teach me to love.
I will teach you to hate.
Together, we can make a change.
With your love and my hate,
we can make this world a better place.

I’ve always wanted to write a children’s story.
Do you think you could teach me to speak?
Maybe then, you will love me
for what I’ve given you. Hate me
for what I’ve done to you.

Okay, I’m ready to do it now.
I picked my pen up off the desk.
My notepad is open to this page.
Take a deep breath, I’m going to begin.
The story is about a lion who loves a wolf…

I will always be
the alpha motherfucker
moaning like a bitch in heat
fucking like a goddamn lion king.

So you little slut,
let’s get to work on this lesson.
I’m bored with bondage and discipline.
I say we’re ready for sadomasochism.

You know what, I despise
your fucking sleepy time stories.
Now that I have you tied up and gagged,
you’re gonna listen to poetry my way:

This one is all about me,
but you know I am you.
I’ll tell it in third person.
Let there be no dispute!

I went back to the pit today.
I retraced my steps.
I sat down with the devil.
We had brunch.
I called him father.
He called me son.
I said – Father,
I’m going to kill you now.
I love my mother.
I hate what you have done.
The devil agreed.
He bowed his head.
He told me he was in love with me.
I rolled out the guillotine…

I had to spare the roaches, though, tiny little rats
that they are, crawling in and out of my father’s soul.
God and the devil, the master enslaved.
The lion is the wolf!

The spirit has come to life, my friend,
and this time he’ll condemn you to
heaven by praising the glory of hell.
That’s how the wild things grow.

Everybody’s gone mad.
We’re too sane to see it.
Take out the punctuation.
Let every line stand alone.

I have to write this all down
because if I accosted you on the street,
you’d lock me up and throw away the key.
My asylum is this madhouse called sanity.

Okay, I can untie you now.
I’ll let you lick your wounds.
Tell me that wasn’t better than sex.
You should speak it to everybody.

I almost read it to a little girl
who was playing with pigeons.
When she said she hated those birds,
I sat down.

I asked her if she wanted to hear a poem.
She said, “Sure.” I opened my notepad to here.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I lie so well, I confused myself.
No poetry today.” I stood up and walked away.

From more poems from The Tree Outside My Window, please click here.

Review of Against Method by Paul Feyeraband

Against MethodAgainst Method by Paul Karl Feyerabend

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An interesting analysis of epistemological theories regarding the philosophy of science with implications for other aspects of life as well (i.e., politics, aesthetics, etc.). The opening chapters spun me around a bit as I tried to get my bearings on the precise issues Feyerabend was addressing. However, once I discovered my footing, I found his analysis of how European-influenced societies approach theories of knowledge to be both interesting and refreshing. A piece of philosophy that often reminded me, in a much more precise way, of things I had once upon a time thought and then forgotten as I became increasingly trained by academic culture. My only complaint about this book is that it is not organized in the most straight-forward manner. Thus, it took me quite some time to really get into the meat of what I believe Feyerabend to be saying. However, I recognize that, as an anarchistic theory of knowledge, this seemingly haphazard approach may be by design. I enjoyed and was inspired by Feyerabend’s book. The four-star (rather than five-star) rating is only because, although, there are moments I perceive to be life-changing in the way this book urges me to think, it took me so long to get to the heart of Feyerabend’s thought that I almost never finished it.

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Review of Living In the End Times by Slavoj Zizek

Living in the End TimesLiving in the End Times by Slavoj Žižek

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An interesting perspective on problems facing the political left in today’s culture. Zizek’s philosophy rests somewhere between cultural critique and pure theory. He uses Lacanian psychoanalysis and Hegelian philosophy to decipher a number of late-capitalist issues such as the clash between civilizations, religious fundamentalism and the rise of a new radical right. In what I see as a nod to Deleuze and Guattari, the book is structured on the notion of how an individual can psychologically cope with loss, the loss itself being the death of the 20th century’s liberal project. Although, this book was completed in 2010, before Brexit in the UK and the rise of Trumpism in the United States, Zizek analyzes many scenarios resembling these more recent events. In this way, the book is still prescient and vital to today’s issues, and it may be so for quite some time. Written in Zizek’s hyper-manic style, the analysis is strong. However, the theory remains a little weak. In true observational fashion, Zizek offers no supreme antidote to today’s difficulties other than a vague appeal to a reinvigorated “communism” that would (hopefully) lack the brutality of the 20th century’s totalitarian regimes. However, as a question of cultural critique, he offered insights I have hitherto been blind to. For that, I believe Zizek deserves high praise for this work.

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Review of Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell

Cloud AtlasCloud Atlas by David Mitchell

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

An ambitious, well-written work. My first thought of this book after finishing it was its overwhelming positivity. It’s rare that a book dealing with such complex issues as race, power and human nature can leave one feeling positive at the end. Although this is a mammoth achievement, reached in quite an unorthodox way, at the same moment, this is the book’s downfall. The philosophy guiding this book feels saccharine. Therefore, even though the scope and craft of this novel are grand and well-executed, the overall work is flawed. It leaves me feeling optimistic but disillusioned by the writer’s own worldview, as if that view itself doesn’t contain the “real,” and that alone breaks the novel’s own grand illusion.

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