How’s This for Meandering???

Salty eyes
I’m not crying
It’s just the alcohol
fumes from my glass
Am I telling lies?
I can’t recognize
My feelings
I still like
To write
And blog
Sometimes exciting
When I’m experimenting
With my soul
To reach metanoia
But what
Do I worship?
That’s the right answer
According to everyone
And it makes sense
I’m quite dense
I admit
Not the brightest
Bulb in the room
And obsessed with my tomb
What do I worship?
I hate myself
Which is not healthy
Hate my weakness
The pain I’ve caused
The emotional outbreaks
The heartbreaks
Misunderstood relationships
(I don’t want to get too close
I’ve hurt and been hurt before)
What do I worship?
Money? Stuff? Power?
I’ve lost interest
Maybe that’s part
Of growing up
What do I worship?
I want some
But I’m learning
To live without
People be people
Everyone is flawed…
And if they’re assholes
It’s just because
Of their situation
So there’s no need
For desolation
Their opinion
Doesn’t matter anyway
I keep telling myself
Maybe I’ll eventually
Move past this
What do I worship?
It gives me my kicks
But doesn’t Inspire my worship
Let’s go back
That seems best
Not sex
Not some Disney romance
Not that special ‘one’
I think
That it’s more like
With a lot of other stuff
Mixed in
To do the right thing
And it’s
Non exclusive
This thing seems worth worshiping
But I’m not preaching
It’s been a while
Since I’ve been with people
My meds keep me
Dazed and confused
My thoughts
Are slow
And writing like this
Is the best that I can do
I can ‘love’
In the general sense
That’s easy
But when I’m out there
It’s hard to care
Decades of psychological conditioning
Have made me selfish
When I did care
I found that
There was nothing
I could do
And it’s hard to love
Some people
My torturer
Ten years
Of that shit
Have broken me
Beyond repair
I lost my mind
That time
But Arip
Had my back
And I’m fine
I’m tapering down now
Maybe I’ll be able to write (properly)
I can find something
Worth worshiping
That isn’t an abstract concept

How’s this
For meandering?

Note: not good enough, she says

Good Education

Head boy and house captain
Class prefect, games captain
In school the seeds were sown
Social stratification

The abuse of power
Captains in their tower
Made us all feel sour
At their application

Of authority
Concept of equality
Shattered by policy
And gentrification

Little cliques rose up high
These children of the flies
Bullying on the rise
And snobby relations

Then when you’re all grown up
You’ll drink from any cup
To stop being a scrub
Good education

(Hmm… baby steps)

Thank You (From the Heart)

I’m in some weird trance state
Thank God for swipe keyboards
Rhyme seems appropriate
And minor guitar chords

Add this to my records
Write on the blogosphere
Where ‘likes’ act like rewards
Conditioned to post here

Pavlov’s dog’s connected
To social media
I am now infected
It is addictive, yeah?

Very much affected
By a mood disorder
I’m now quite dejected
I tell my recorder

My experiments stall
On my ‘self’ and my ‘soul’
This was not a bad fall
I’ve near escaped the hole

So should I still play ball?
I have nothing else left
Back then I felt ‘her’ call
To stop now? Such distress!

I’ll be more careful now
While I search ‘soul’ and  ‘self’
Looking for where,  why, how
Transcribed on my blogshelf

This rhyme scheme is messed up
There’s a mistake somewhere
I will drink from her cup
And learn to meander

Slander? I do not care (All is forgiven)
You made a small mistake
What about my despair?
In some time I will break


It’s a constant cycle
Reader beware!
Don’t get too close
If you are easily shaken

That’s why I’m reclusive (irl)
I just don’t want to hurt anybody
But these past few months here
Have really been something special
Thank you!

(I don’t know why they say social media is bad. I’ve had more meaningful conversations here than in real life. I might be addicted to looking at the stats, but that fills me with motivation. I know that I should be beyond feeling good for stuff like stats… but it is what it is….

Umm… when I say I don’t want to hurt anybody, I mean emotionally and not physically. I am not a violent person. Those two lines are actually simpler than things actually are. I withdrew from everyone, but a few friends still stuck around despite it all. They didn’t care that I’m broken inside and didn’t care that I sometimes only talked to them once in six months…. Nothing changed)


Looking back at what I wrote
Over the past few days
I guess I’d lost my moat
Then it all set me ablaze

It was like I was trying
To tell myself I was okay
That I was better,  flying
high, and on my way

to enlightenment
But then a violent
quake revealed Necropolis

All the signs were there
My morbid fascination
With my past despair
A failed operation
For metanoia

I still feel like shit
But better
Than last night

I apologize
For succumbing
Like this
And making
a gala out of it
And I’m grateful
For the kind responses
I received
I’m not going to stop
With my inner meditation
I just hope that
This lapse
Makes me stronger
And that I won’t
Bother you all
Like this again

I wonder what she meant
By baby steps

Still Crawling

Trigger warning: suicide

Momentary relapse
Thought I was stronger
But one stupid trigger
And I’m back to near collapse
This isn’t a cry for help
Because there’s nothing you can do
There’s no one I can turn to
It’s this damn disease
That’s making me freeze
Meander,  she said
But it’s hard to just walk forward
Doesn’t help that I’ve just given up cigarettes
Ten days so far
That’s something…guess I can still crawl
But I’m this fucking close
To an overdose
And ending it all

But I can still put on a smile

and maybe crack a joke

They don’t have a clue…

Learning to Meander

                     For me”

The Lady commanded
               Now she was
Giving me orders?
I didn’t have
To listen

I realized
That it wouldn’t do me
Any harm at all to meander
Then you can fit in
A nutshell”

She said

Were we going
To have our adventure?
Nowhere,” she said,  “Until you
Learn to harness the feeling
Of walking this path
To meander”

Tall Mountains
And deep valleys
I saw my path extend
It’s too difficult
I thought
To walk

Baby steps then”
The Lady sighed

and drew me a line…

Duality : Life and ‘Me’

Life and I had
A bad relationship
Downright toxic..
Especially after this one weird trip:
“You are I, and we are one.
We are Brahman”
A yogi said to me
“Tattwamasi man!”
He was just trying
To put me back together
But after that
I fell apart even faster

I drove over the speed limit
On the road to ruin
And ended up in the ER
Our breakup lasted a few seconds
But Life hadn’t given up … NDE maybe….

I saw something… And then I saw too many things

She sent you to me
A little later…

For The Skeptic’s Kaddish


. Paula’s prompt guidelines

  • Write about a breakup (not necessarily romantic) in any poetic form, not to exceed 20 lines.

(I have been in free verse mode lately. I have never been in a serious relationship… So I could only write about this, if I still wanted to stay personal. I was going to write a weird poem, but the Lady made me delete it after I was done. She seems to be okay with this one… at least she doesn’t hate it. )

What Features Characterize a Great Musician?

I am reblogging this without permission. I will delete it if Martin asks. I do not think he knows how to tag his posts, making me his only reader, which is a shame since he writes so well. I have commented on his posts, but I don’t think he has looked at the comments menu. If you like learning about music then check his blog out.

Martin Backhausen

Focusing on gaining a few key traits will help you succeed as a professional musician. Authenticity, discipline, and confidence-building are a few of these

You must develop your confidence to become a more effective musician. You’ll be able to prevent bad feelings and perform better as a result of doing this.

Finding a group of friends and relatives who will support you and encourage you is the key to gaining confidence. Musicians frequently experience feelings of isolation and supportlessness. They often struggle with perfectionism and excessive self-criticism. These negative thoughts, though, might be harmful. Instead, concentrate on and work on the areas where you can improve.

Additionally, make an effort to play in various settings. Asking friends and relatives to observe your practice is another option. Accept criticism when you receive it and use it to advance.

Making performance a regular part of your life is a fantastic additional…

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Thief of Darkness

One would imagine…
No, not them
Nor that babe in Bethlehem
(Though ’tis the season)
Let’s start again
Where were we then?

Oh yes…

One would really think
That the Lady who gave me a drink (of chaos)
Would be interested
And invested
In condemning this world
Of material pleasure
And blood treasure,
Rather than in this nerd;
In proclaiming a marine supremacy
And singing of the land’s deficiency
But she doesn’t really care
Order isn’t against her nature
She gives me no prophecies
Nor divine ecstacies
No new philosophies
Or revelations on anomalies
No revolutions or evolutions
But maybe some resolutions

She seems to really want to nurture
Me into something… A searcher
A scavenger, an explorer, a robber
Of the Apeiron, the Chaos, the Ocean
The Darkness,  the Churning, the Commotion
Of things that I cannot comprehend
That are nice and shiny and can help me mend
My will, purpose and other things
My wings, my furnace, my inner spring

Perhaps by robbing chaos I will help people…
I don’t know; value is judged by them in the steeple
I might accomplish nothing,  but I don’t care
Not any more… I still live in despair
But it’s beginning to disappear
I hope this feeling lasts

(Art by Luke Brown)

Epiphany : Carry Me Under the Ocean

I may have an interest
Nay, an unquenchable thirst
For dwelling on the mysteries
Tracing all the histories
Back to a divine hand
I think I need to understand
But I am no scholar
So why endlessly ponder
On those things far beyond
My knowledge;  I’d rather abscond
Deep beneath the ocean
Far from the land of men
Because that’s the way I am
Run by Chaos’ program
I’ll leave the theory to you
To measure everything that is true
Of drafts, waves and currents
Of maps, routes and merchants
Finding practical applications
Of divine operations
Is not in my job description
I’m just on a prescription
Two vials of chaos
To send me across
To the ocean floor
But not to explore
I have no goal
I’m just out on a stroll
Gawking at the sights
Blinking at the lights
Swimming with the whales
Weaving many tales
Poking at the crabs
Pulling at sunken flags
Still tied to giant wrecks
There’s nothing complex
When I make that leap
When I’m in the deep
Because I can’t rely
On my wings To fly
On my eyes to see
On anything to any degree
I can just stay in the slipstream
And get carried away to a moonbeam
Or to sunrays
Anything really
I have no idea where I’ll be
But it’s not a mystery
Since I choose to just let go
Admiring the glow
Of luminescent coral
And patterns floral
Rather than to know
Or calculate their ratio
I might be drawing lessons
From my fevered imagination
Faked revelations of my psyche
Or my soul… very likely
(If the soul is even real)
I’ll just let myself unfurl
That all depends on what you glean
From my aimless rambling
I think I can be a poet if I really tried
But I really do need a good guide
For my flow… of both my words and my soul
And the Lady, she rescued me from a bottomless hole
Accomplishing an impossible task
There are so many things I want to ask

But for now….
I am content
To swim behind her
And create verse
Whether direct  or inverse
I’ll leave it to the priests
To explain spiritual physics…
Being carried forward by her wake
Sounds more like my thing

(Three long poems today. I’m tired. But this came hot on the heels of the previous one. These last two days have been quite a journey for me. I still plan to read everything I said I would, but I might not take it as seriously as I might have done before having this epiphany. This might not even be an epiphany. It might be frustration and an excuse to give up. I don’t know. It’s very hard to say. Maybe I’ll figure it out later, and make the appropriate changes in my thought process and behaviour. )