A Minimal of Deafness

When all sound
Stops
Outside your window
Writing secret messages in silent dew

Quit tapping,
I see you already!

A Minimal of Life

Trials are but,
Foul fantasy,
Wrought in our ruin,
To imagine we are
Dying.

A Minimal of Exhaustion

When faced with terror,
The eyes fall,
Wrapped in lids,
White outside,
They hide.

A Minimal of Joy

All heartache,
In boundaries lies,
But feathered joy,
Foe-less
Flies.

A Minimal of Hindsight

Let my epitaph never,
From my cartouche rescind
And tell those still living,
That I was merely
Mumbling
Into the wind.

Logic of the Soul Immortal

Moralam: I have followed in the footsteps of Plato and considered his words, and those of the philosopher Socrates, in that great discussion of the soul, the Phaedo. I was surprised to note that neither man pursued a certain facet of his argument any farther than he deemed necessary.

Caiphus: What manner of logic is this, that ends before it has served all the meaning it can to the sophisticated palate?

Moralam: It is the argument for the immortality of the soul. I can agree with Socrates’ argument that, given the nature of magnitude and littleness, neither can exist within one another. In the same way heat and cold do not give to one another, but rather build upon themselves. With this in mind, it is obvious to me that indeed the soul must live on after the body, for in the soul is life, and there life remains.

Caiphus: This is the argument of the great philosopher?

Moralam: Indeed – but there is yet more that I feel should be considered!

Caiphus: Share with me, that I may understand that to which you refer.

Moralam: It is merely this: if heat and cold are relative to one another, as magnitude and littleness are polar, but only in regard to one another, are not life and death therefore relative? It seems then that it is equally possible for a soul to exist eternally in life as it may exist eternally in death. Not in death not existing, but in death, abstaining from that which is life.

Caiphus: Your words possess the façade of that which is logical, but I must consider them more before committing to your conclusion.

Meta - See The Future

Perspective is a window through which we view the world. Truth, or the search for truth, is like a strong light which illuminates wherever we point it.

When the light is shed only on ourselves it becomes almost impossible to see out the window. The future, and the way things really are, all but disappears. We become lost in our own image, as though we are staring into a mirror.

When the light is shed only on the outside, we lose sight of what is, and fall in love, enraptured with the way things may become. Potential becomes our prison.

For these reasons, it is important that we search for truth in all places, for any reason at all. For truth, in balance, shows us the entire picture: the future overlaid with the past, the internal measured against the external.

In addition, we must be careful not to allow our perspective to become corrupted or cloudy, for then we are blind to all things. Blindness . . . self-incurred blindness . . . this is the greatest sin of all.

I apologize for my abruptness: I have not slept well these last few nights.

Academically Speaking

A devout follower of Socrates, Plato taught even after the great philosopher's death in a grove called Academus, from which we derive the word academy. This was the first institutionalized school of philosophy, and a most interesting inscription was carved over the entrance:

"Let no one ignorant of geometry enter here."

What does geometry have to do with philosophy?

. . .

Consider that.

Wickedness

I really have nothing to say today except this: I've become enchanted by tragedy. I'm amazed at how two different individuals could contribute to one another's differences, magnifying and concentrating them. It seems impossible that the goodness of one could bring about the death of another, but it is so.

I leave you with these words:

Do not presume to know for certain what is evil and what is not, for that is the duty of those who are completely righteous. Instead, be open to all things, old and new, that when you shut the door you may be affirmed.

Half Empty

Is it possible that we're too slow,
And will never know,
How much we're missing?

Could it be that fate,
Is a myth,
And we're just swimming upstream?

Or perhaps when we step on the gas,
And rush through our day,
Lest the minutes pass,
We never consider,
Whether life is too fast,
Until we sip from the bottom of the glass.

A Series of Questions Regarding Neutrality

At what point does neutrality become a handicap?

How do you balance aggression and neutrality?

Are right and wrong a matter of perspective?

If all parties have benign intentions, how does conflict arise?

Gnomish

In earthy silence only,
Do the sleeping wait,
No smiles,
No fools,
No customs,
No rules,
As they have been allotted by fate.
But peace can destroy
For boredom will maim
All that you thought you had known or obtained.
In earth they will dwell,
A vacuous hell,
As from death, like life, they abstain.

Life and death,
Each gives the other meaning.

A mouth for war
Brings naught but more
And all but the honest, quiver.

When that not heard
(A peaceful word
Echoed by the river)

Sends shards like the knives
Of innocent lives
Through my spine and neck like a shiver.

Life and death,
One makes the other more pleasurable.

Just waiting for fate to pull us back together,
Like gravity causes an orbit,
So we are entwined,
Related, reacting, but alone.

Senseless Verbiage: A Response

Recently I have been confronted by this individual's stark assertion regarding the use of obscure words, which she hypocritically insinuates are irrelevant and extraneous. What I fail to see is any real clarity, depth, or substance to her accusation.

Ironically enough it seems as though she's made this statement without giving adequate thought to the words she's wasted.

If words like "aptitude" and "indiscriminate" are considered commonplace, what then is her standard? I have, in the past, had companions who were incapable of defining words such as these. Again I ask, this time more directly, what is the standard to which you so fervently hold that determines what writers are overtly in-understandable, and what writers are as candid as yourself?

I don't wish to appear hypocritical or intentionally malignorant (a word which has just now taken the first breath of new life), so please allow me to explain my stance.

I believe strongly in many of the principles expressed in your post. While I won't go into detail here, suffice it to say that I have explored this path before, and found the journey most satisfying.

Yes, writing is a compulsion.

Yes, some are born to writing, and some have writing thrust upon them.

No, I will never refrain from using a word that I feel is more accurate because someone, or a great many someones, may require additional education to understand that which I am attempting to express.

It is preposterous to assume that most of those individuals who read my blog are incapable of learning, but let us, for a moment, do just that.

Suppose I indulged in a style of writing which immediately and overtly expressed precisely what I meant it to, in a way that required the fewest words, and therefore the smallest margin of time to digest. What if I was concise? Meaning is then lost.

But if I were to equivocate and expound and explain until I was certain that everything I had attempted to say had been said in a way that most closely mirrored my internal monologue, would I then, according to you, be writing extraneously?

Please understand that I am a firm believer in writing in a way that communicates most efficiently; however, you must also understand that I find accuracy preferable to conciseness. These two aspects of writing, of which a careful writer must be cognizant, are two extremes between which all writing must balance. As I shared with a fellow blogger a few days ago, the most important part of blogging is the ability to communicate. Who you communicate to, and in what way, are highly relevant to this balance.

With that said, has it occurred to you that perhaps some of us read to expand not only our minds and philosophical horizons, but our vocabulary and ability to comprehend? I do identify with the reader as well as the writer, for I have done a fair amount of both, and I find that your careless presumption strikes a most painful nerve. I do not wish to attack your character, but instead ask only that you consider all the ramifications of a statement before you make it.

In this way you may consider yourself, at the very least, convinced of your own correctness.

Foundations

Caiphus: What is the foundation of relation?

Moralam: Interaction.

Caiphus: What is the foundation of friendship?

Moralam: Love.

Caiphus: What is the foundation of love?

Moralam: Friction.

Caiphus: How does friction relate?

Moralam: It is relation at its core, an essential disturbance of difference, caressing and coursing and causing to flame. It is each one of us when we are laid bare and made whole by our incompleteness in one another.

Caiphus: How then do we love?

Moralam: It is an illusion – we do not love. Love, e’re so briefly, chooses to inhabit us. We do not control or command it, it controls us; we are at its mercy.

Caiphus: Mercy?

Moralam: Love overflows with it.

Provisions are a stronghold for the flesh . . .
But flesh still fades.

Many trials weary the spirit . . .
But the spirit never dies.

And somewhere in between,
Lie heart and mind,
Which stretch on till time,
Halts.

At the world’s edge,
Before making the plunge into eternity.

Whitewashed Tombs

What are you thinking?
Mister mountain monkey-man.
Are you thinking
Or are you a stone Buddha?
Inanimate avatar of thought,
An epitaph for the intellectual.

Organic Love

"I'd love to get up for you but I can't." Puzzled, I balked, a confused expression frozen on my face. Quickly he clarified. "If I get up the music stops, and we can't have that, can we? The music cannot stop, it can never stop." And so he remained seated, the smooth sounds coalescing around and amidst his appendages.

It was many a night before I could sleep restlessly again.

Conclusions Et Al

How strange it is when obsession doth rise
For sameness,
For change,
For compromise,

For blankets to lift,
From weathered eyes

For the rangy filth,
Of repeated lies,

For whenever she lives,
For certain she dies.

How strange it must seem when we love in faith,
In hope,
In peace,
That ethereal wraith,

In aimless sleep,
She calms the lathe,

In turn it does sow,
For the needy,
The waif,

But regardless of sleep,
When she opens her eyes,
The sooner she lives,
The sooner she dies.

Liquid Dropping Sun Up

Cold, damp air
Wanting to leave
Strength in the rain
Repetitive motion

Reflected through a droplet
A single light
Unused, not needed
Repetitive motions

Stiff, controlled,
Many
Forlorn glance within
Repetitive motions

Red and white shutters
Gold turned to hay yellow
Black to distorted gray
Repetitive motions

Cold, damp air
A single light
Forlorn glance within
Repetitive motions.

Subjectivity of Judgement pt. 2

Actions speak louder than words, but attitudes are more potent than either.

Burn Through the Witches

Don't be led by,
Frankenstein's bride,
Amalgam of estrogen and chocolate.

She rides a corvette,
Sans collapsible roof,
And feasts on the souls of the dead.

When she dances fast,
She'll set you on fire,
To chip a hole in the ceiling of hell.

But when she slows it down,
Better run for your life,
'Cause hell will freeze cold,
So scared'll it be,
When she,
Attacks.

So get back on track,
Stick with the easily fed,
If you want to hold the leash,
And not be choked by the collar.

Because autoerotic asphyxiation only goes so far.
Specifically, until you die.

A Series of Questions Regarding the Subjectivity of Judgement

Is not appearance a physical manifestation of behavior?

Why then does it not follow that appearance is criteria worthy of use when discerning people's intentions?

If interpretation is the issue, consider: are not actions also subject to this?

Are actions are less subjective?

Is this why the Bible recommends against judging people?

In Case of an Emergency

Sudden complexity:

Slows down time.

Wrap your mind.

Around.