The Nullifier

So here’s the thing:

I’m terrified to death

That one day,

utterly unbeknownst to me,

you just get up

take the car keys

open the door

step outside

close the door

and disappear

I run to the window and barely catch a glimpse of the rear lights

vanishing about the corner

and in time I find someone new,

a real beefcake,

and I feel attracted to him

and want to be his woman

and he wants me

and we get together

and are happy

so that at the right moment,

when I realize this could be the one,

I press my cheek on his massive pectoral

and remember you

and all the work dissolves into Saharan wind

The Meaning of

I wonder if I got this right -

the meaning of life

and everything and all

is either to transmit messages from Tralfamadore

or to try one’s best

the very, very best, not one bit less

in the name of progress

I guess I’ll never wrap my head around

the right answer

whichever it is.

Most people spend their lives in pointless matters

and see meaning in it,

like they ought

while I stumble and crumble and fight and grind

fearing nothing,

but the dot

The Moment

All this planning and all this preparing and all this thinking

will only lead to a point where

they matter no more,

for only action counts.

I can analyze everything over and over again,

‘till the moment has passed,

or reject thought altogether,

waving my arms in the hustle,

foolishly peering everywhere,

while stumbling in every direction

at once.

How can I know if I’ve reasoned enough

yet not excessively?

How can I know the moment of action?

for it seems like an iterative process,

and I merely have one shot

Freedom

It seems, now

that I am not fit to make my own mind

that the right belongs to someone else

- a stranger,

an utter nobody,

who holds no office in my life

Like a despot he sets the pace of my days

Controlling that which

is not his to control,

Facing decisions that

are not his to face

all awhile appealing to my vitrue,

my duty,

my workload in grace

But the choice is mine and mine alone.

If I cannot choose to work in vain

If I cannot choose to try and fail

If I forfeit my freedom to those in claim

I am the only one to blame

Integrity

My body is shackled

Of ankles, of wrists,

Of arms, of fists

For that’s how Resistance likes it be

My mind is tackled

Of values, of will,

Of toughness, of thrill

For that’s how Resistance likes it be

But Resistance ain’t got nothing on me

I wriggle and struggle to escape the chains

Yet it only makes them tighter

The effort grinds me to the ground

To mark the grave of a fighter

I hear a dying voice within me

As he whips insults:

Who you are today is not the end result

And so the weight begins to feel lighter and lighter

The view I see begins to seem wider and wider

The voice grows stronger, saying more and more

Telling me things, things he will ignore

I am far from hero, I am far from man

But if I cannot do it,

no one can

Resistance is oblivious, Resistance cannot see

Resistance ain’t got nothing on me

Progress

What can be said of my inheritance

If my morale goes down in decadence?

What can be said of my resilience

If I lack my own self-reverence?

I am to imprison the insect,

I am to renounce the recess

For every excess causes a defect,

every defect an excess

Macbeth

I but desire the lack of Macbeth in my thoughts
Whilst he knocks on all the doors of my consciousness
Demanding to be allowed to enter, pleading to his power
and to his lost babies
.......................who sneaked in through the chimney pipe minutes before

With all my might I push to oppose his will
Fighting to overcome this mental dyskinesia
Yet close to fated to fall conquered in the battlefield
coloring the grass brand new

But I refuse to surrender

For if I lose this fight, nothing will be left
the world will twist and turn around me
time will collapse distorted into pieces

and all hope will be gone