Thoughts poetic

-

Oh, for a little walk.
Surely I'm able to contain my explicit need?
Some literate greed
Stampedes my feet away
To eat the mystery up
As slothing is a muzzle upon freedom.

*

Like this?
Like that?
Like is always like
It's stiff, like.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

CVD19.8

-
Image
The last day of March begins With the sun cornered between Clouds and St James' Hospital And me sat in the same space Wondering when this will finish? The voices in my head are reaching Outward, from where they'd been Relegated to an occasional threat, To become emboldened by others Who always judge on partial evidence. Give me back my feet, and my Way, otherwise I will cave in And mutate again becoming lesser When all I seek is magnitude! Yet isn't it still my choice to walk? Bored of switching on the radio With it's list from panic measures, And hearsay, dropping "mights" Into the doomsaying with this Negative wassailing upward creep! Crawling back into the kitchen, Stirring, sideways, this familiar vessel, A subcontinential spicy ration, Breaking my fast, prior to One form of exercise without prejudice. Cruelly formulated in this cell, By those without a free instinct; Charmless, bland or banal. Gruel they serve up in bitter measures Isn't ...
Read more

An Essay.

-
Introduction. My name is Pilgrim. I walk through this life much as I walk through my allotment – a space I often describe as disorganized, yet to me, it feels profoundly holistic. I don't fear wasp stings; I stride through nettles and thistles and brambles, finding a curious interest in the cut skin, a quiet control over the bleeding. I have no fear of the dark or the unseen. What truly disturbs me is the chatter, the small talk that ripples through existence, obscuring the profound truths unfolding before our very eyes. I prefer chaos to order, perhaps because the imposed order I witness around me feels so deeply, fundamentally false. I literally eat things along the path, unbothered by what others might deem unsafe, for my perceptions lie far beyond the superficial. I’ve come to see this world as a grand, unsettling performance, a "game" played at the highest echelons, designed to "manage the populace from cradle to grave." It's not a conspiracy in the nea...
Read more

The End of the Ego: Hamlet, Existential Anguish, and the Non-Dual Unfolding of Being

-
(Submitted in an alternate reality to Richard Pryor, BA Hons. Third Year, 1995)... The traditional academic view of Shakespeare’s Hamlet posits it as the pinnacle of existential human inquiry, a text that masterfully delineates the agony of a consciousness grappling with the fundamental questions of existence. The soliloquy, "To be or not to be," is universally lauded as the ultimate expression of the human mind’s capacity for self-reflection and tragic indecision. This paper, however, posits that such a reading is fundamentally flawed, as it remains confined within a Cartesian dualism that Hamlet, and indeed much of the Elizabethan canon, ultimately fails to transcend. Rather than a testament to the heights of human thought, Hamlet’s struggle is a profound, albeit brilliant, portrait of the Ego's weakness—a philosophical cul-de-sac from which a truly awakened consciousness must necessarily depart. The tragedy of Hamlet is not his indecision but his unwavering belief in a...
Read more