Let Creation Set You Free: Poetry

A rush of pain
the flux of dread
creeping in,
up, and around
An unwelcome veil,
choking
stifling,
silencing,
freezing.

A perilous question;
Do we give in? Do we give up?
Relinquish and let go?
Do we stay, grapple
through the night,
persevering because
the Fighter must fight?

With a tiny float
in the limitless sea
facing countless dangers
from above, from below.
assess, assess, assess.
Heart racing, heart slowing
confusion and panic.
Convergence.

The life line is cast
hope sits in the water
it only needs to be touched,
brushed by another light,
 a life, a being
to have success.

Eyes meet
for the first time
light shines.
A boat drifts nearby
gazing, smiles,
huddled in warmly,
room to spare,
"You're going to make it.
Just hold on..."

The black oblivion
swallows them into the night
and here
in this limitless sea
do we wait
for the perilous question
to answer itself:
Do we give in?
Do we give up?
Relinquish and let go?

Existentialism: A look into the terror of one's Agency.

Here.
I sit amongst the sounds of nature: perverse, immature, doomed.
Here.
I sit listening to the wispy breaths and gentle taps of the clarinet.
Here.
I sit drowning the thoughts of incompetence and meaninglessness.
Here.

Swollen by innate "virtues" of egos. Swollen by the thoughts of a meaning of something more
Devastated by the hypocrisy of It, of it all.
Distracted by the feelings that, maybe one day, someday, It'll all matter.
Overwhelmed by the reality that It never will.
Tears.

Work. Car. Office. Degree. Marriage. Babies. Friends. Handbags. Shoes. Houses. Work. Work. Work
Definitions of meaning in life: without ever asking why this defines Life? "The Dream" of a perfect house, perfect spouse, perfect job, perfect Life.



Life (n): _________________________________



The stark naked cold realism of the existential world,
Surrounded by people. But yet never really there. Somehow always alone.
"This is my life's greatest calling" they say,
yet when the Great Equalizer comes, what was it for?
That desk in the big office, with windows overlooking the skyline? Words on that business card?

Words. Simple markings that somehow have developed into a system of Greater Meaning. Words.

Silly words that fill the page that fill the mind, that fill the heart
what do THEY even matter?
Determination to fill, to read, to think, to pursue, to motivate, to repeat, to use and feel those words, those indiscriminate markings
Its a masochistic endeavor,
tethered by the mere thought of "Yes" and "No"
For even that, after I have seen my last light
and breathed my last breath, what were THEY for?

Freedom begets a structure within which to confine, that begets isolation and the alarming truth of being Pervasively and utterly Alone, within which one can only see IT all was and is meaningless.

"I think, therefore I am" solidifying the perpetual state of the Great Equalizer
of Freedom, of Isolation, of Meaninglessness
In fact, why have any words
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