Gestalt

Walked into river
River much too cold

Cold is bad
made me think to want warmth.

Fire is warm
then hand get closer

Hot is bad
made me think no good at all.

Met a good man
he gave many gifts (wine and food)

Gifts are good
made me think to do the same.

I gave gifts (wine and food)
people angry, say I try to please too much

Gifts are bad
I will not give as much.

Good and evil
both the same

Will you dare, to make this claim?

The Cold

To all I can see
I am unclean
bathing in waters
I shall never leave

Let the cold waters
run through my soul
and find fire within
does it douse it out — no.

Moving on fire
walking on ice
The simplest bridge
towards passion and vice

Told me your hour
was still yet to come
what have we done
but squandered our lonely —
bear with the pain I see, the ocean waves will never cease
And here I know what’s in my soul
It’s nothing I will ever be

So broken and shattered
I’m waiting for you
So making it past me
Is something I knew

And what’s more for me, the evening of death
And where do we stand in loneliness.

Hm

Shine a light, my waking moment
Closing light, a dawning time.

In angels wings I rode to heaven
And in the battlefield, they stood and fought

My abandoned values, I watched as they starved themselves, maimed the others, spoke, and loved, and spilt their blood, as I left their lands, cast above.

Could I not see? Could I not but hear the muses sing? Oh but there are no muses, I have been deceived! Who called out that this is where the miracle speaks?

Who calls out? The air my dear. And I have left my values, fighting as I stare.

A Journey

He speaks, “I sat on a ship waiting for the storm to take its toll. The people they asked if this would be their last home. I shouted and cried, yes! Indeed this the end of their lives! But I seek new lands, how stubborn of me!

So the storm began –the tepid seas quickly changed and became, the most vicious of seas
And my god did I fear, the worst to come!

But just as the pouring and shaking was reaching its worst, and the waves they clashed upon on our poor hearth,
A serpent evil, slithered onboard, and in its evil, whispered a song.

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Goodbye

Her smile she speaks
and says that kindness above all is what she must preach

I look in her eyes and see no deceit
a lover I find
but not of mine.

I think of her feats,
they are not much to me,
but still I think of her
and think –that I should continue on with her despite my leave.

I consider.
I think.
I could leave with her –a message or link, a memento or way, for maybe someday!

Someday… I wish, but then what’s this burden I feel?
I consider her smile, I consider her pain,
and how inconsiderate if I were to tell her,
that maybe someday…

Maybe someday… would I create this way?
But then I’ve given us both the worst,
that I could not come to truly leave.

I look at her smile,
I think of what she speaks.

Above all be kind.
Goodbye for now.

And there is no deceit.
Goodbye I’m sure.

My lover she speaks,
and though I wish to hear,
and though I wish to see,
and though I wish to help,
and see the cheers and cries of triumph and defeat…

Though I wish that maybe someday…
Today I say Goodbye,

Goodbye I hope
Goodbye I stand
Goodbye and wish, that perhaps we’ll cross again.

Fake — Part 1

I write, “Mother, Father, I’m running away from home! I no longer wish to see the tears roll down your faces. Is much too much for much of me.

I wish for clearer skies and wishful breezes, the kind that lift one’s spirit, despite one’s body being seldom lifted.

I move to Vancouver tomorrow, I do not wish to be spoken to, I do not wish to hear from you.

I hope you will respect this final wish as I do not know how long I will need.

Bye,
Isaac”


I leave the flimsy sheet of paper on my wooden desk at home. The airplane ticket is already booked, I just need to head to the airport.

I call my friend who’s supposed to be picking me up. The other end rings several times, then drops to mailbox. I shrug and grab my backpack and the gym bag I packed the night before, I head out the door and begin walking.

I think, “People can’t be depended on. This much I know is true. So true, that I can not even depend on myself.

What is wrong… that I could have what I think is good and still be felt as wrong?”

My phone rings, my friend has called back. I pick up.

She speaks, “Hey, sorry about that, was still in the gym. Are you leaving early?”

I shake my head, “On time.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry I’m running home right now, I’ll pick you up?”

I hang up. I think, “People can’t be depended on. How many excuses, how many lies! Told over and over again, this: the greatest lie –the last time.

How short-sighted can humans be? Terribly so, terribly so.”

My phone rings. I hesitate, I want to leave it, yet I squarely pick up.

I speak, “So…”

A different voice speaks, “This is your Mom. What the hell are you doing?”

“Mom, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You’re making me worried! You shouldn’t do that, you’re my son. Aren’t son and mother always supposed to be happy?

I’m coming home, will you stay?”

“I’m leaving Mom,” I hang up.

I go to my friend’s contact and delete her from my phone. Several more calls come to my phone. I silence them and continue walking.

I think.

They never saw the painting

I speak, “Ten long nights I weathered storms, and in these storms I told my adventures that came.

The crowd they gathered, to hear my words. And how they looked with rapture, as my words would fill their passing days.

With each word more people came, until the whole street was filled, with those listening to my speech.

Alas, the hours past, and the time to reveal my masterpiece was upon me. I bit my lip, a nervousness compounded, this was my fate.

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A Chipped Mirror

I look in the mirror and see myself. Is this who I am and what I’ll always be? They say a man is only a man so much as they fight; have I done my fighting?

My CEO messages me over email, we’re reading books together. We have several email threads going, full of thoughts and ideals.

We throw our values at each other. Digesting and analyzing each others judgements, separating noise from signal, partials from Truth. We’re sparring, but only in thought-space.

I type out a lengthy reply to his statement on the state of the today’s society. We live in purgatory he says. But Isaac, what if the world was already saved? Can’t you see that we have nothing to worry about anymore?

Yet, despite this, I know he’s quite similar to me. Indeed that we’re even typing about these things to each other, isn’t that the greatest sign of our likeness? Yet somehow the smallest differences are the hardest to overcome.

I wonder if he has any fun. I wonder if deep down, his heart, his spirit, his self, something was torn away from him. Is it because he’s talented yet also idealistic that leads him to shoulder the burden of pain? That the self-reflective man lives in infinitely crueler life knowing he’s the only one to blame? Hindsight my dear, hindsight kills.

But am I not of the same character as him, largely Alone, facing shadows daily for… for what? For my ideals? For the world? For others? Or simply for killing time, boredom; the more talented a person, the quicker they grow bored, and boredom, boredom is the worst punishment.

He sends me a lengthy email in reply, and at once, I am disappointed at the tone. I read,

“If I am the Devil Incarnate, I am also God.
I feel I am neither.
If I am anything, I am just a servant of higher powers.”

A servant… and how I wanted to slap my companion! This kindred spirit of mine, lying down, submitting in pain, in sorrow, in someone else’s name!

Is it not our will that compels us to stand up? To continue on in service of ourselves despite ourselves? That we may laugh a bit more, that we may fight! To rally the call of absurdity, to see to it that we fight, despite not knowing why.

Stand up my friend. Stand up and fight! For did you not see a younger you in me? And did I not see an older me in you? But then isn’t it our destiny to continue on too?

So that is why I fear. That when I look in the mirror, perhaps that I be weary and beaten too. I hear the hidden echoes, “You will tire as I have too kid.”

And he smiles. And I will slap that smile too. He is not done fighting, and neither of us are through. But just because I don’t believe, doesn’t mean it’s not true.

~

The human longs to be lifted. Away! Away from today!
And should we succumb to the fire and flame?
Should we forget the loneliness of our days?

Oh, but I have dreamed! And these dreams I’ve harbored and beckoned to stay amongst my loneliest of company, that they should spread their wings and fly away as I watched. Yes, as I gave rise to my dreams, that they may carry me beyond me.

How I wished for that starry night, that would shine for me the last breath of life,

But make no mistake! As my cries and pains, they are nothing! They are nothing! In exchange,

to see you run away. That I could be left without a heart, but that now, I could see it beating to a drummer that plays another’s part.

So come with me, one last time, to happy meadows, abandoned churches, lost remnants of the worthless begging,

that you’ve left me with.

My dreams. my dreams. That you may escape from me.

Away with you! I turn to leave, and should you stay –I know you will, this much is my happiness, tears belonging too.

Thank you whom –my dreams, I leave for you.