Waves

I gave up again today,
but not in the usual way
where I am defeated
by you.
Rather, I gave IN today:
we don't have to do it my way
We can just go with it.
I want to feel,
I want to feel everything.
No more shying from the light
or swimming against the current
just for the fight.
Instead I will let the waves
flow through me;
fill the spaces in between,
what can and cannot be seen.

Sloth

Typically I spend most of my time  going 
back   and   forth between sitting down 
in various places,     like couches and 
benches,   reclined,  or eating food, 
or on my way to eat or to cook; 
I prepare it, then I sit and eat 
and dream about the next 
thing I am going to eat, 
or place I'll sit.  Back 
    and            forth.

venus in taurus

slow and steady
hot and heavy,
carve a niche any way you can.
climb to the top
hold down my wrists,
pinned against a weightless bed.
spend one more night with me
says she,
we will cross the ocean on our own.
or scale one more mountain,
who is counting?
we all do, when we're alone.

nontoxic

you will not speak
your doubt to my face,
yet it is I who am the snake?
coiling only to bite
and never for warmth,
as you sleep
i creep, and wrap myself
around your arm.
you react in fear
and I am forced
to hold on for life.
I grasp, nontoxic
fangs inject nothing.
assuming only the worst,
in your fear of death
you break my neck
only now can you see
mine is a harmless
color scheme.

spiritual evolution

Seeking a noble constitution
within this institution, I wait
for focal emergence
yet the lens diverges, concave.
Can I realign the eye
or the strands of nucleotides,
and maintain pace with
evolution's strides?
Reintegrate through the mind
detritus, use the sand of time
in an elevated fashion, recombine.

jus·tice

—Idioms
10.
bring to justice, to cause to come before a court for trial or to receive punishment for one's misdeeds: The murderer was brought to justice.

Patience

We are not ready for what you are seeking;
This revolution to be completed.
For we are too young as a people
Still, full of lust for empire and glory
Trapped in the individual, adolescence.
Each and every one of you
Would cut the throat of the next man
For the key to the kingdom.
Still, you beg to be a part.
Your world is much smaller than you think,
And the real world is far too large to imagine
So, understand you must not pretend
that we are nearing the end,
because this is only the beginning..
We were born in the furnace
Remnants of the empires before us
All have crashed and burned.
We know not of suffering yet,
We are the free,
Or at least we still believe ourselves to be.

I miss you, I really do..
there's just not much I can give you these days
and I know you don't want to part ways
I've known it all along
that I'd give in till its gone
but now I have to be real with you

of course there is tension
from the things we wont mention
we both want to believe
things are more than they seem

how can you say we're ready
when we can't keep our shit steady
I know it's not fair
but we were going no where
it is hard for you to see
because you can't see past me

if i was honest with myself,
I am just afraid.
all of these placates are nothing
more than a friend in need,
i just don't know how to ask for it.
if you spend your whole life
with out ground to stand,
you learn to swim.
but i'm swimming on dry land,
and no one really understands.
how could I describe to you
how hard it is to be?
my instincts have the better part of me.

all I need is help
but I need to help myself.
the world wants you to open up,
show them all the goods inside
so they can have them at their disposal
excuse me for keeping the door closed
i heard there were petty theives
walking the streets

Its inevitable.

there exists a certainty underlying
the threshold of uncertain times,
so that which you disregard
will build
craftily behind the scene.
the deserted never forgets the deserter,
and the marooned have chance for rescue
when beyond the discarder's reach.
these jettisoned ideals, buoyantly,
ride wave upon wave until beached.
because that is the destiny,
of something afloat at sea.


when refused
the abandoned seeks restitution.
in this negative space lies the inevitable
forever fashioning and festooning
preparations behind the next closed door.

a holy matrimony

who am I to describe such grace,

as the boundlessness of time and space?

I am but an intrepid groom,

who attempts to lift the veil too soon,

or peer through the lace,

to steal a glance of your face.

what is it that I hope to see

to quell the restlessness in me?

is it but another disguise,

or is there comfort in your eyes?

whatever it be,

will you set me free?

if a man is afraid of death, he is afraid of himself.

afraid to look into his own eyes

and see the true depth.

we created the abyss to imprison our real destiny

cast down like the devil,

to dismiss, that all is One in me.

but we can be free,

for we do not need light to see.

because the abyss is not that deep

and it does not hold the Beast.

there is no devil but the one you seek

Jogos de Cartas

Jogo de Cartas from Richard Silva on Vimeo.

a pretty sweet little short I did

what if you were led through the dark

with faith, held on to embark,

and never ended up where you should?

how frightening a thought,

that what you had caught,

was nothing more than driftwood.

a strong pull indeed,

with such admirable speed,

gives the impression of purposeful course,

but once the sun rises

and we lose nights disguises,

its always current pulling you forth.

what can you say to help impart

to the man who holds his broken heart;

that although life seems so cold

this is how the story unfolds.

albeit it will never end,

the story is the journey friend

for there is no final resting place

no finish lines to end this race.

it is evident in the growth nature brings

the price for life is suffering

let not your tattered garments

and tarnishing laments,

be the only voice thats heard

build the mask you choose,

build the face you're deserved.

who else knows better,

the truths you contain

and the loves you feign,

than the architect of such a voice?

that is all the world will choose to see,

the timbre you project. build a masterpiece.

Shit tracks Randy, shit tracks

I used to be full of shit. (and this ain't gay)

so full of shit my eyes were brown. now they're green, or greening

because I opened up all the shit valves. every pore and orifice and vessel

to allow for the shit to stop building pressure. to let the shit seep out. slow as fuck.

goddamn does it take a while, to not be full of shit. you get soo

PACKED (not fudgepacked) by all the bullshit,

that you're constantly wiping shit off of you. who wants to be around someone

who is always wiping shit? smells like shit, looks like shit..must be shit.

the hardest part is not closing the shit valves again. eventually the shit well runs dry (ricky)

and you can be filled with whatever you want.

so next time you see someone wiping shit off of himself, grab some gloves

and give him a hand goddammit.

he's trying

are you trying to make a monster out of me?

break me down to hands and knees;

to be trapped in a box to thrash as you please?

attempting with vigor to shake loose my "disease".

I can not be disposed of with such little ease.

ready & set to brace myself for impact;

in this tomb of a world, your reward the broken back.

there's no looking, only seeing

when your bracing yourself

darkness has nothing its concealing

what if it felt as if I were oxen?

or a dog to bring the flocks in?

happily utilized for a menial claim

terminated menially for a Show of Faith,

like any slave, servant, to be chaste

for the sake of the save face.

so here I am yours to shake.

as my grip grows stronger each day,

and your grasp fades with each thrash you make,

one day, when these confines break;

I will be master, & you will be slave.

suck on that shit

here I stand, suspended

and rendered unconsciously conscious.

here I am mended by one night

of unraveling, like a loose thread;

tread cautious not to fully undo,

as I fear I will lose tether from the Earth.

If such a state does occur,

one of true shapeless resource,

act accordingly, fashion me

into your desires. I am the mortar

to seam your fractures, a shield

to your weakness & fears, I am yours.

use me as you will. wield me

for thy purpose, I am a vessel for you,

just as you are The Vessel.

It is but a modest compensation;

To repay such a sacred charge

is a burden far too daunting,

for the sensibilities of an unsatisfied

woman. I offer the

enthusiastic assistance,

in maintaining the weight

of the great consideration.

they say its impossible,

but I've found a part of the river

that seems crossable.

just have to lighten your load,

take a chance on the slicker stones,

although the river is wide,

its twice the life on the other side.

and god, must we try..

your freedom is written in the profit margin

marginally

the struggle

thankfully this well of will,

whos depth has yet to be seen,

is so readily available to yield.

so that I may once again summon the strength

to expand my lungs, to strive

for one more breath of life; and that I,

may relish in the relief of its exhale.

9 - 11?

so I have been trying to stay informed of the worlds current events, and in the process of fulfilling that today I stumbled upon some interesting images.

this link goes to a BBC News article on the recent death of Poland's President, Lech Kaczynski, in a tragic plane crash:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8612825.stm

if you notice, that plane is fucked up. the ground around it? also fucked up. actually, it looks exactly like it did when they crashed the plane on the first season of Lost...and the sixth season!

now here are a couple links, one showing the aftermath of the 'plane crash' into the pentagon, and one of a similar 'attack' in Pennsylvania:

http://911research.wtc7.net/pentagon/evidence/photos/index.html

http://911research.wtc7.net/planes/attack/flight93site.html

If you notice, these scenes look completely different!

Obviously someone has deceived Us. Regardless of the intentions, let this be a warning to you that nothing is what it seems..

especially in the name of war.

ever want to be a fly on the wall?

see some stuff you shouldn't.

www.wikileaks.org

to be not once, but twice cast aside

like a perfect idea, perfected once again

obsolete, rides the ebb and flow of tide

I helped hold the waters back long enough,

long enough for waves to wear my walls

and to see your kingdom flourish

yet, once erosion runs its course

I crumble, collapse to the ground

remaining here, unperturbed

admiring my place in the grand scheme

every kingdom must expand

now, but a pile of stone surrounds

naturally, you'll loathe the blemish

but you forget the intent

of which this wall, had stood

if your ambition surpasses your vision

as you build a wall to further hold

the tide at bay, to keep a kingdom growth,

then you shall see barren days

no man can fight a nature's strength

be it his, the moon's, or Earth

the waves will soon retrieve their ground

regardless of your birth.

be careful what you pretend to be because that is what you'll become

Quiet Rage: The Stanford Prison Experiments

Review of the Quiet Rage video by Hans Sherrer

(September 2003)

http://forejustice.org/zimbardo/quiet_rage.htm

one day,

when retrospect has taken its course,

and clarity on immediacies

& such is relinquishing,

a certain scent overcomes,

this momentary glory.

while pursuit of a definition

in measures present

suffices not to purge emanation,

threaten relentless appeal

to the senses,

as to the nature of their latency.

I was born with too much weight on my shoulders,

like Atlas, trying not to let the world roll over

it happens, I've adjusted to holding this boulder,

made with my father's doubts,

getting heavier as I get older

pieces

As fire screams from between branches
An autumn sky blazes over our autumn years
Black, silhouetted against a crimson sun
Shining light scattered, upon our gaze-less eyes
As the world is broken piece by piece
Our hands callus from the crumbling earth
Set forth by trembling hearts
We lead ourselves blindly to the edge of the abyss
Look at us now! we exclaim
As we dance eyes closed upon the ledge
Laughing down with no voice returned
Like fools, there is no end in sight!
Under our feet the ground slowly slips
Leaving no grasp for callused hands
For we have wandered too far, too fast
Carelessly grinding bedrock for sand
Disappearing, the crimson light trails
Back across the brink
As all wonder falls within
Seeing death before it meets the deep

attn:

Ladies & Gentlemen, may I have your attention?
I have startling news of vile misdirection.
It seems a slave comes cheap these days.
For we are all in shackles in a few different ways:

First they tie your heart to things,
Undermining love, by defining what it means.
Placing fake expectations on the world you "deserve",
Thus limiting reaction to the master we serve.

Secondly, they tie your mind to debt.
Focusing your attention so those expectations can be met.
By keeping the world so far about your means,
Making you live life to catch up, oblivious to the scheme.

And third, they weigh you down with fear.
Creating "security" so that comfort stays near.
Building your life around an idea of hope,
That nothing goes wrong, and you stay afloat.

Eliminating the search to discover who you are,
They name the nameless, and they set the bar.
But you dont have to submit as a pawn in a game,
For each man is powerful, and we are all the same.

rain. rain

washed as white as snow?

more like a thin, watered coat of paint,

it just takes some rain to wash it away.

brace yourselves!

you're falling back to earth

it must be something in the air

to make me fret so

something, to make me fear

that I'm losing something

losing anything

yes, it must be, in the air

if I take a look around

its easy to see

everything I'd like to keep

is still right in front of me

so just breathe, its nothing

Glass Ceiling

once, God was a ceiling of glass,

to peer through to the heavens, and past.

until man took his hammer of Doubt

shattered God, and strew him about.

suffice, that did not for man,

for then doubt, had encompassed the land.

so crusades were set out to find,

the pieces of their peace of mind.

but the pieces were harder and harder,

to find, as they grew smaller and smaller.

attempting to build a new shield

from the horrors that only man yields,

they took all the God they could seize,

to no avail, tried to fuse piece to piece.

yet the closer and closer they came,

in the effort of defining his name,

it seemed the words would elude,

skip the tongue, and foster the feud

between the light, which once was so clear

and the Doubt, that nurtures his fear.

insomniac

approaching the end, like the sun falls
here, so quickly light thins
I've reached the point of voided return
this cavity remains, a half-lesson learned

bold visceral push toward daylight

through shadow stalk, eyes, ears taught
hear, feel, smell of the earth
unaware, yet aware, the hunt ensured

watch the fire, like stars embers blaze

upward, to join their heavenly kin
the tree line hails of foe and prey
as slumber creeps, my attention fades
alert! there exists much to develop
keep diligent, the guise of night envelops
watch the tick of the celestial tock

and huddle for warmth, as surely, enemies stalk

beat, by beat, by beat of heart, alone

i count by measure, the time til morn

my grandparents, from my father.

how young and full of hope they seem lol

what did I do? to set your sun so low?

from what fire of mine has an ember met your eye?

here mine seemed a life of empathy,

and yours dissatisfaction.

to feel your pains, and mine as well

only to see in you the look of mistrust.

brother, do you not see the weight of both burdens

carried upon my back? to not suffer, as I suffer with you.

still alone, always alone, i feel my constraints.

do I not have as little as thee?

I see your claims of undesired intrusions,

whislt your heart pours out to me.

yet ressentiment is all I see...

and I understand the need for your own two feet.

is it all my fault, to be cast into this life?
admitting-ly, once, i held the bond too tight.
but I am here to live, not shy from light
i shall find my sovereignty to stand upright.

i see now, how this is a mutual plight

ashes to ashes

convulsing earth
is a repulsive birth
yet, a birth none the less

confounding worth
shall advance ever forth
through times we see as mess

the circle rounds
its equation, profound
forever back to start

disaster bound
yet more glory is found
in the cycle of Nature's art

seams

i followed step for step, paths so deeply set
to lead me no where, left behind
alone by me, my truths were met

i went in front for once, stood first upon the line
to take so deep the bladed edge
of another man's truth, as true as mine

to seem to seam a 'life' to life
or dream of dreaming strive from strife
will seem to take the 'youth' from you
and seem to take the truth from true

mr sagan plz

crabs