Tag: strength

What Have You Really Loved Till Now?

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“Your real educators, those who formed you, reveal to you what is the true primary meaning and fundamental substance of your being … Your true self does not lie deeply concealed within you but immeasurably high above you, or at least above what you usually take for your ego.” Nietzsche

What I love is the

Neat, obedient, well made.

Miniature, fine

Tuned, durable, marked

By craftsmanship. Intricate,

Smelling of old wood

And discipline. Love

I also the raw, untamed,

Unshorn, tacky, and

Tawdry, unabashed

And simple, open and free.

Wild, naked, real.

I am Apollo

And I am Dionysus,

Sharing a lifetime.

Brothers

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I trigger you and

You trigger me. We compete

And re-enact our

Parent’s drama. You

Are jealous of me, lash out.

I am stung, speak true

Vitriol, withdraw,

To rehearse the battle, time

And again. I swear

To never speak to

You, but crave your amusement

At my wit. I want

You to accept me,

But you can’t, because I am

What you are not. I

Am wise in ways that

You can’t be, and diminish

You by my presence.

We are not equals.

I am better. And so when

I offer you my

Warm embrace, you spurn

It, and power trip with your

Dubious stolen

Authority. I

Want you only to act like

A person, but you

Can only bully

And escalate. I withdraw,

Seek to shame you with

My silence. I make

Myself bigger and stronger

And louder and more

Proficient, useful

By the world’s standards, but

To no avail, still

You reject me. I

Cannot be other than what

I am. I am wise,

Articulate, well

Loved. A good brother would cheer

Me, not feel upstaged.

This becomes dusty

Death, another loss for me

To grieve, you won’t pull

Me down with you. I

Am alive and free and light.

A star, I must shine.

Ape

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To you, I’m an ape.

The one who can’t get it right.

Your erudition

By ineptitude

Mocked. Your endorsement forced by

Circumstance, against

Your better judgment.

You put your weakness on me.

With a word I could

Destroy you, but it

Wouldn’t change a thing. Just like

Nothing I do will

Change your mind. I must

Spend my days, body wracked with

Tension, laboring

To master every

Intricacy over and

Again, trying to

Forget you exist.

Futility ever dogs

Me. To you I send

It, from whence it came.

This craft is beautiful, and

It is mine to keep.

Angel in Chains

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You enticed me here

With promises of talent

Fulfilled, potential


Realized. Service and

A community of like

Minds. Then you locked me


In a sewer, to

Twist and writhe as you giggle

At my agony.


I can’t free myself.

No rescuer waits in the

Wings. If I want a

Miracle, Deus

Ex Machina, it will have

To come from my heart.

No Martyr

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Once did a young man

Declare that the tragedy

Of the world was

Wrong, and that he would

Fix it. Did he believe in

Himself? Sometimes. But

Not often. He had

Imbibed and lived a creed in

Which to be crushed by

The machine was a

Victory, representing

The end to the war.

Eventually he

Became a doctor and found

Himself a clockwork.

Would he spend his life

And his substance to turn back

The hands for one more

Moment? He wasn’t

That good, to die in service

Of a lost cause. He

Was selfish enough

To want a purpose for his

Life and work, to write

His name in the stars,

To stop the clock forever.

No martyr would he

Be. He would not burn

On another’s pyre. He

Would steal the sun from

The sky and hide it

In his pocket, to peep at

When he was idle.