11 April 2015

Four Hundred and Seventy


Wisdom is the upshot of a great deal of pleasure, a great deal of pain, in every way imaginable.
It is the outcome of having watched patterns over and over enough
To well know their inevitability.

* * * *
You must have a deep and earnest yearning for oblivion to discern it for long,
Elsewise, the inattentive mind rockets off in one direction or another,
And there you are, back in the same old, tired, hurried flux.

* * * *
Are you the identity to which you so resolutely cling,
Or the ephemeral awareness that perceives it all,
Prior to consciousness, prior to imagination?

* * * *
Curious how so many seem to choose
To spend so much of their supine existence
In little boxes suckling the dreary teat
Of rambling bureaucratic malaise.

* * * *
How similar we are in our differences.
How different we are in our similarities.

* * * *
Call it justice, call it revenge,
But some form of law will be kept
By whoever possesses the biggest club,
In whatever way the pendulum of time swings.

* * * *
This world is filled with great violence and chaos.
Most cannot afford a bodyguard, much less an escort,
So it is wise to always be prepared should the need arise.
Si vis pacem, para bellum: If you want peace, prepare for war.

* * * *
It seems far less likely that humans were made in the image of some deity,
Than they are fashioned of the infinite imagination of singular quantum design.

* * * *
A fist is a stone is a club is a sword is a spear is an arrow is a bullet is a bomb is a missile.
In warfare born in the jungles, in the rivalries of long ago, the relativity of technology is all.