CLOCKWORK
Setting tired workers for the slaughter,
Who fall in line so the cause will excel.
Who has the rights to superior man?
Tough men bleeding fear in torrents, or the
Fellowship of great minds gathered in a
Safe room? Age-old questions still unanswered,
Still fragile as newly frozen water,
Ticking effortlessly past time itself.
Could the muscles, tendons, thoughts, and choices,
Long inept beliefs, and methods of the
Ancients, (whom would be enraged at what their
Sweat and tears amounted to), become the
Proper execution for the future
All along; that miserable clockwork?
2/27/10
2/25/10
From The Lab
INJECTION
Prep the surface
Ready the mind
Breathe
Relax
Tell yourself it's for the better
A sharp PAIN --
--Eases to a dull numbness
And a lovely pleasure
The flesh is pierced
Speared
Broken
As the fluid flows
Trickles through and spreads
The key to life
Where the lock is hard to reach
Withdraw
Breathe
Tell yourself it's for the better
Prep the surface
Ready the mind
Breathe
Relax
Tell yourself it's for the better
A sharp PAIN --
--Eases to a dull numbness
And a lovely pleasure
The flesh is pierced
Speared
Broken
As the fluid flows
Trickles through and spreads
The key to life
Where the lock is hard to reach
Withdraw
Breathe
Tell yourself it's for the better
2/21/10
From The Lab
The Vortex of Sin
The vices of life, I cannot defend;
To lie, cheat, and steal is sewn in our genes.
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
Fighting the false need again and again,
Combined with cruelty in endless days,
The vices of life, I cannot defend.
A callused soul is the loneliest friend,
But a friend in need is a friend indeed.
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
Balance is needed, the good/evil blend,
Purity by itself is not a boon,
The vices of life, I cannot defend.
Walk carefully when the pathway descends,
A decline is easily hurried past.
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
The vortex of sin brings most a rough end,
With occasional swirls of brief pleasure.
The vices of life, I cannot defend;
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
The vices of life, I cannot defend;
To lie, cheat, and steal is sewn in our genes.
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
Fighting the false need again and again,
Combined with cruelty in endless days,
The vices of life, I cannot defend.
A callused soul is the loneliest friend,
But a friend in need is a friend indeed.
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
Balance is needed, the good/evil blend,
Purity by itself is not a boon,
The vices of life, I cannot defend.
Walk carefully when the pathway descends,
A decline is easily hurried past.
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
The vortex of sin brings most a rough end,
With occasional swirls of brief pleasure.
The vices of life, I cannot defend;
A battle with conscience. One must contend.
2/16/10
The Vial (part 3)
Catch up on the story with part 1 and part 2
On one of their many outings together, Cassie convinced her mother to go to the local tanning salon, seeing as how beach season was right around the corner. (I could never understand the need to get a tan before planning to spend weeks lying in the sun but I'm told that women can.) Her mother agreed and they bought separate booths for an hour each. Cassie knew that they would have to take off any and all jewelry in order to avoid being burned by the heated metal, besides who would want a semi-permanent ring or necklace pattern on their skin? While undressing she made note of where her mother placed the chain and waited for her opportunity.
After about forty-five minutes, Cassie told her mother she had had enough and was headed off to take a cool shower. Her mother, who always loved lying out in the sun, was determined to stay for the full hour as she expected. She then darted straight for the locker room and pulled her mother's jeans out of their shared locker. Reaching into the back pocket she removed the fragile necklace with the nervous calm of someone about to diffuse a bomb. As she fought to unscrew the lid, waves of guilt washed over her and her conscience promptly ignored them. She'd waited too long and came too far to let such a trifle bother her.
As the lid finally gave way she peered into the tiny opening. Inside it was all but empty except for a small amount of liquid resting at the bottom. Unable to tell what it was she reluctantly poured some of it onto her hand. It was clear, and a few sniffs revealed that it had no scent. It was water. Cassie was more confused than ever. Why would her mother wear this container, complete with nothing more than a few droplets of water in it, at all times? With more questions than answers, she carefully screwed the lid back on and made sure to place the chain in the correct pocket. She put her mother's jeans back as best she could remember, closed the locker, and headed for the showers.
The next few days were both difficult and awkward for Cassie as the newly gained information gnawed away at her brain. What was the practical purpose, if any, of carrying around the charm? More importantly, what secret did the water hold that made her mother react the way she did? Struggling to solve these questions and more, it wasn't until a week later that she was able to get some answers.
There were two ways to get to the bottom of it, neither of them pleasant. Her mother still wrote in a diary now and then, as she had since before she was Cassie's age. As she never grew out of the habit she had a number of volumes. Surely the chosen information would be in one of the older editions, Cassie thought. The only problem was that her mother kept these precious books in a fireproof safe, along with her tax forms and other important papers. Cassie remembered seeing them there once, clear as day, when she needed to get her birth certificate for a class trip. She didn't know the combination and never had to. She and her mother always made efforts to respect each others privacy. She was fairly confident she could figure the combo out, or break into it if need be, but this did not appeal to her. The other way was no less disturbing. She could confront her mother about the charm face to face, and tell how she'd snuck in and stolen a glimpse of her mother's secret.
Good-hearted people tend to do good things, it's in their nature. Thus was the case with Cassie. She would choose the lesser of the two evils. On the one hand she would have to pry into her mother's private side again, piling up offenses and adding to her already considerable guilt; on the other, she would admit to her wrong doings, accept whatever she got coming to her, and hope upon hope that her mother would at least explain things a little bit before going off on her. So she chose the latter, but decided not to reveal the entirety of the setup. She would say she found it accidentally and take her shameful secret to the grave. This was going to be painful enough, why add to it? Sometimes lies are the only acceptable answer, at least that's what Cassie tried to tell herself.
On one of their many outings together, Cassie convinced her mother to go to the local tanning salon, seeing as how beach season was right around the corner. (I could never understand the need to get a tan before planning to spend weeks lying in the sun but I'm told that women can.) Her mother agreed and they bought separate booths for an hour each. Cassie knew that they would have to take off any and all jewelry in order to avoid being burned by the heated metal, besides who would want a semi-permanent ring or necklace pattern on their skin? While undressing she made note of where her mother placed the chain and waited for her opportunity.
After about forty-five minutes, Cassie told her mother she had had enough and was headed off to take a cool shower. Her mother, who always loved lying out in the sun, was determined to stay for the full hour as she expected. She then darted straight for the locker room and pulled her mother's jeans out of their shared locker. Reaching into the back pocket she removed the fragile necklace with the nervous calm of someone about to diffuse a bomb. As she fought to unscrew the lid, waves of guilt washed over her and her conscience promptly ignored them. She'd waited too long and came too far to let such a trifle bother her.
As the lid finally gave way she peered into the tiny opening. Inside it was all but empty except for a small amount of liquid resting at the bottom. Unable to tell what it was she reluctantly poured some of it onto her hand. It was clear, and a few sniffs revealed that it had no scent. It was water. Cassie was more confused than ever. Why would her mother wear this container, complete with nothing more than a few droplets of water in it, at all times? With more questions than answers, she carefully screwed the lid back on and made sure to place the chain in the correct pocket. She put her mother's jeans back as best she could remember, closed the locker, and headed for the showers.
The next few days were both difficult and awkward for Cassie as the newly gained information gnawed away at her brain. What was the practical purpose, if any, of carrying around the charm? More importantly, what secret did the water hold that made her mother react the way she did? Struggling to solve these questions and more, it wasn't until a week later that she was able to get some answers.
There were two ways to get to the bottom of it, neither of them pleasant. Her mother still wrote in a diary now and then, as she had since before she was Cassie's age. As she never grew out of the habit she had a number of volumes. Surely the chosen information would be in one of the older editions, Cassie thought. The only problem was that her mother kept these precious books in a fireproof safe, along with her tax forms and other important papers. Cassie remembered seeing them there once, clear as day, when she needed to get her birth certificate for a class trip. She didn't know the combination and never had to. She and her mother always made efforts to respect each others privacy. She was fairly confident she could figure the combo out, or break into it if need be, but this did not appeal to her. The other way was no less disturbing. She could confront her mother about the charm face to face, and tell how she'd snuck in and stolen a glimpse of her mother's secret.
Good-hearted people tend to do good things, it's in their nature. Thus was the case with Cassie. She would choose the lesser of the two evils. On the one hand she would have to pry into her mother's private side again, piling up offenses and adding to her already considerable guilt; on the other, she would admit to her wrong doings, accept whatever she got coming to her, and hope upon hope that her mother would at least explain things a little bit before going off on her. So she chose the latter, but decided not to reveal the entirety of the setup. She would say she found it accidentally and take her shameful secret to the grave. This was going to be painful enough, why add to it? Sometimes lies are the only acceptable answer, at least that's what Cassie tried to tell herself.
2/11/10
From The Lab
Soul-Atoms
The experiences of day to day,
All the moments when we have lost our way,
Of the lessons that force a bended knee
From professors too kind or cruel to leave,
Our hopes and doubts and the desperation
To improve ourselves, with hesitation.
The oft blurred visions in need of focus,
Long lost teachings absorbed through osmosis,
The paths full of wonders and painful truths,
The blessings that fault and every excuse,
The great refusal of the world at large,
The final acceptance of who we are.
The experiences of day to day,
All the moments when we have lost our way,
Of the lessons that force a bended knee
From professors too kind or cruel to leave,
Our hopes and doubts and the desperation
To improve ourselves, with hesitation.
The oft blurred visions in need of focus,
Long lost teachings absorbed through osmosis,
The paths full of wonders and painful truths,
The blessings that fault and every excuse,
The great refusal of the world at large,
The final acceptance of who we are.
2/8/10
Insomniac's Rules
Fight sleep,
Rally against the tyranny of the brain,
With its constant demands and looming threats;
We don't negotiate with terrorists.
Fight sleep,
Dreams impede the progress of your dreams,
Lucidity is overrated,
Health is overrated,
Save rest for the dead.
2/6/10
From The Lab
A Lesson Learned
Life is built with the little things,
A gathering of all moments,
Balms that can soothe the little stings,
The bad friends and kind opponents.
At first sight of this old planet,
(Before meeting new life's teachers,
When the soul is running rampant
Tired laps throughout the ether,
Knowledge is gaining thought by thought,
Without the foresight of wisdom,
Since the first cell gallantly fought
Entry into the egg prison.)
The path is worn and memorized,
And by the time the youth slips by,
The present is lost. No surprise.
Where's the gift for being alive?
Pains discovered with every step,
Are abandoned along the way,
With teenage soldiers, grizzled vets,
Merely taking it day by day.
Growing harder by the minute,
We soon forget the right to play,
And what was once our infinite
Has shrunk back down into the clay,
While we have all lost our purpose,
In daily doses of drama,
Happiness upon the surface,
Layered over cores of trauma
Must be shattered; so little fish,
Don't get caught biting for the lures
Please understand the lesson, quick,
Just live a life, and live it pure.
Life is built with the little things,
A gathering of all moments,
Balms that can soothe the little stings,
The bad friends and kind opponents.
At first sight of this old planet,
(Before meeting new life's teachers,
When the soul is running rampant
Tired laps throughout the ether,
Knowledge is gaining thought by thought,
Without the foresight of wisdom,
Since the first cell gallantly fought
Entry into the egg prison.)
The path is worn and memorized,
And by the time the youth slips by,
The present is lost. No surprise.
Where's the gift for being alive?
Pains discovered with every step,
Are abandoned along the way,
With teenage soldiers, grizzled vets,
Merely taking it day by day.
Growing harder by the minute,
We soon forget the right to play,
And what was once our infinite
Has shrunk back down into the clay,
While we have all lost our purpose,
In daily doses of drama,
Happiness upon the surface,
Layered over cores of trauma
Must be shattered; so little fish,
Don't get caught biting for the lures
Please understand the lesson, quick,
Just live a life, and live it pure.
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