Archive for October, 2008

The Grave Renewal

October 29, 2008

What once was freedom and idealism has passed into a gray twilight. The skies darken and the temperature drops. Dust falls from the sky like snow, covering everything, bringing about a unified landscape, blanketing all that was once different and unique.

The plants and the trees start to shrivel and shrink back into the earth. They wait for better times, when the sun will shine for them once more, and they can emerge different, improved in every way. Their dawn is long from now, and the twilight is ever present.

On the porch of a once life filled cottage, a rocking chair is covered in ash and dust. It can’t remember why it was crafted, or who it was that relied on it for rest. A calm perch amongst a world it didn’t care to look after. From the chair in recent days, it saw no more blooming flowers and trees swaying gently in the wind. Instead it saw the ever expanding hazy empire of buildings.

The last thing that shall move and stir is that of a child. He steps from the home and wanders as far as he can. The lifeless forms of his parents do nothing now. They can’t smile at him, they can’t tell him to go to bed, so that everything could be calm and normal in the morning.

He flees for safety. Instead, he is set ablaze and suffers slowly, as have all others.

He cannot remember how this came to be. The consequences he is forced to endure were not to be placed on his shoulders, but while others were content to ignore, the messes they had accumulated were not going anywhere.

Long ago, in a room, elderly men fought for the future of women and children, those two the ever more precious resources they squabbled over. To their eyes, to their suits and ties, everything was a resource.

To secure the interests of those represented in the room, the poor were sent in uniform. Over the horizon they saw a beautiful city, and then, a brief glimmer of light.

Those in the room shouted, and each syllable carried with it the weight of a dozen dead men. The intentions of those men were given different meaning.

The means to send so many to such different places, was something only they knew of, and only they controlled. They would shout slanderous words in an effort to rally those to their cause. Poverty for the sake of this unknown and unending substance becomes a self perpetuating cycle. It for some pointless reason, forced this dying child far off from friends and opportunity.

One tragic moment, and for this little soul, he may have well died years ago. Those with look down upon him… a wretched creature they would say. They would do nothing while his parents starved.

It could be one last moment of solace for the child, to know that those whom put him in such a terrible place are now gone. It was cast by their hand… but he just doesn’t want to die…

And neither did they.

As the ash and dust fill his lungs and eyes, he does not cling to the specter of vengeance, and he does not wallow in victory or pride. He thinks of his parents, and wishes that he could muster up enough energy to cry.

The empire of the city is gone. An empire driven by imaginary numbers and value. The trees are hiding from the fall of this empire, for they know that the footprint will last far longer than they’d wish. It will in time fade though, and they will cling to it. After so much time passes, and the sun punctures the cold sky and brings warmth and light with it again, the trees won’t even remember the face of the rotted child as he tried in vain to keep breathing.

The room where the elderly men argued will become a meadow. No bickering of fictional resources and population control will remain. Instead, dear will forage though it, and the birds will nest in the trees and sing.

The sky will brighten a world long forgetful of the sins of the past, it will forget that the last one left to shoulder the burden of ignorance, was one that could do nothing but suffer for it.

The spot where his bones slowly melted back into the earth will be covered by dirt and grass and little else. It was once a road… and now, it is nothing.

Looking At the Wall

October 13, 2008

Ain’t nobody around, I’m here and I’m bored. I’m just trying to understand the folding paper before me. I’m looking at the screen, but the interest seems to lack. Modern man, apathetic and desensitized to all things. A million souls could have died, a species could have gone extinct, but why should I care? I’m out of snack food.

I took a shot amongst the grandstanding salesmen of the world, and found my voice to be quite pointless. Swimming against a tide, jumping from the river, and right into the claws of the bear.

I took a swing but went out on three pitches, my ideas not solid enough to fly, the people around watching hope more for failure than success. See it in the tabloids, and other such filth. People want to see other people suffer; pretend they’re better than them.

Since they’re not around, I can laugh and pretend there’s no one to let down. I can’t say I’m really shocked, it’s a decent change of pace.

Start the chanting, I want to hear the lines drawn in the sand. It’s a wonderful tone that speaks of bickering and inane reasons for the pointless.

Since they’re not around, I have no one to talk me down. I can’t say I mind at all, they were never good friends.

Climb on their backs, smile to their face, and see how well you can fake it. Is it so hard to fake it? I think not really, Spew out bullshit long enough, and eventually you may actually believe you’re right.

Once again another mess of emotions, I stand by the side and watch as they burn away their cares. Once again I’m a bystander, and my intentions are slowly rendered meaningless. I could see it as the motions began, like the building tension as the roller coaster climbs towards that first drop… and then it’s all downhill from there.

A sudden burst of inertia and I’m flung so far forwards, trying to work it out as I run down the road, finding my place as my belongings are shattered and torn. And they keep pulling me down, trying to find out why I’m still around. I hear whispers of my inability, but I’m just trying to act the part. I hear whispers of why I’m still around, when I should be asking that question myself. Once again they’re enslaved by the motions, pondering how well they’ll fall this time.

The winters keep passing me, sucking the years away from my mind and making me see the past as a road ever growing. So much of me lost along the freeway, so much of my importance not inside my head. The scattering of my ashes soon flashes before my eyes, and I wonder will it have been worth it?

The expenditure of such a short life span ensures they’re all jam packed with pointless and useless conquest. Rape the world, our desires, everything, consume like it won’t be there tomorrow, because as far as we know, it won’t.

Ain’t nobody around, and I’m still thinking as to why I’m by myself and I’ve got next to nothing on my mind. Several fading generations have sprung up and flown away, expanses of time that seem so long to us but are nothing but the blink of an eye.

Aspire and expire, two notes and so easily played out. The wonder and amusement cast before another generation. I look at the wall and wonder if it cares that I’m thinking these things.

Ain’t nobody around, I’m just sitting here by myself, and I’ve got nothing else coming to mind. Ain’t nobody coming around, and I’ll just sit here with too much on my mind.

Meant It All

October 8, 2008

The plan so simple, but so easy to ignore.
The places we went, standing there on the floor.
My hands grasped at you, and swatted away others.
Falling down, my words condemn me.
I meant it all.
I meant it all.
All I taught, all I came from.
I meant it all.

The cityscape bore as much beauty as you.
The plans I held would make us rise above it.
Under the water my eyes not so clear.
Under the sky my mind not so clear.
Attentive, but never when required.
Dismissive, but not at a good time.
I meant it all.
I meant it all.
All I shouted, all I demanded.
I meant it all.

Trees tumble down and the road is clear.
My sight shifting from different things
I held that which brought it all into focus.
I wondered if you could still hear me.
I soon realized I was clinging to nothing.
Your grace so far removed.
Your words burning.
I meant it all.
I meant it all.
All I killed, all I grew.
I meant it all.
All I taught, all I dismissed.
All I demanded, all I ruled.
All I saw, all I broke.
I meant it all.