In Dreams

•March 30, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Wait a minute, what did you see?
It was a surreal night to say the least
I saw my life flash before my eyes
And a woman somehow tame the beast

I remember pouring rain
Standing alone with two dozen red roses
I remember you calling my name
But like from another world, I was frozen

Then all at once we were standing there
Hand in hand on the underwater path
The ocean teeming with life above
Felt so happy I couldn’t help but laugh

I wake alone and sadden at the thought
That I can’t just roll over and ask you about it all
A lazy day spent lying and conspiring in bed
If I had your number here you could bet I’d call

We’d master the dream landscape
And travel through countless an unknown world
Play out past present and future
You’d always be my girl

We’d practice things like flying
And metallic skin
Partners canoeing down the river
So hard to tell where I stop and you begin

But I wake alone and start to get angry
This waking world has sold me a pack of lies
The madness boiling over into words
Focused now to see my partner’s open eyes

Even in dreams I’ve found you’ll get nowhere just standing
So I begin to walk instead
Gathering the troops for a mission demanding
A mission so real, yet all in our heads

Set sail men, this ship isn’t sinking
It’s only a storm, in fact one of our making
And now the waves that buffeted us so
Will be just the float we need, an ocean of stars ours for the taking

We sail the skies of dreams now
In a ship all at once repaired
And in these skies we will be remebered
For we were the ones who dared

My princess is in this castle
I’ve seen her with my own two eyes
And with her we’ll find each of yours my friends
Amidst the stormy skies

Siren Song

•January 16, 2017 • Leave a Comment

So you think you can resist the Siren Song?

Many stand to stake a claim, in hopes of survival
A fool’s hope is all that remains, surely all we ever had
For where thee masses once stood, one remains atop the hill
Not a king, but a lowly musician, a drummer

To overcome the Siren’s Song is not in the stance or strength.
To hold one’s ground is true folly, recall that there are many ways to fall
When confronted by a force of nature

And believe me, a word on the wind has no less power than the winds themselves
Or the waves that will overtake us all
The earth itself cannot envelope entirely
The fire this song’s one verse could spark

I know this much to be true, for I have been twice set ablaze
and once left smoldering for years seeming centuries

All I know now is that I still stand
On the smallest yet subjectively seeming the most conspicuous of hills
Drumming away, in hopes of finishing a fool’s errand

My feet begin to tap, and I remember the secret to the Siren’s Song
Suddenly shifting, no longer a deadly tune luring sailors to their demise
The song itself was looking for, even needed, a dance partner
the dancer needed a new beat to remember the steps

Once heard, it could not be undone
But when faced with win or lose, do or die
Only the fool begins to dance.

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•October 21, 2016 • Enter your password to view comments.

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Reintroduction

•October 5, 2016 • Leave a Comment

These pages are full of thoughts of ideal love, given a form of permanence (albeit it in limited scope) through words.  I have always been an idealist, and I don’t see that changing.  I am hoping to shift topics one day though.  For to sing of love, while a beautiful pursuit, is incomplete.  For me it feels like singing with a plank through my chest.  While it would seem a simple matter to remove the plank, recover on my own, and sing with my full voice, I cannot bring myself to do it.  I would rather die, wounded in this way, than speak one word falsely.  But should this plank be removed, through some miracle, the sky itself would no longer be a limit, but the stars instead become our backyard.  Words of life, healing, and wondrous things will mix in with those already familiar to me, creating a resonant chorus, where now there is only a still, small, voice.

I debated creating a new blog when returning to writing, afraid of the depths and past depths being revealed.  I decided to revisit old pastures though, and as I reread and remembered; I realized I had remained unchanged, at the heart of things.  So I stand as a wounded remnant, on this sleeping giant, representing who I am, what I sense feel and think, and nothing else.

Puzzling question

•September 12, 2010 • 3 Comments

Question of the day: Is it possible to make a complete puzzle with no edge pieces?

Imagine your life as a scattering of pieces, an eager puzzle ready to be assembled.  As I have gone through the process of assembling my puzzle over the years, two things became evident:

  1. There are some pieces you are better off without, remove them.
  2. There are no edge pieces.

I’ve noticed any endeavor that seemed to be complete becomes more and more complex and incomplete as you build on to it.  As new pieces connect, the process is fulfilling, but I in any endeavor I realize the “goal” was an illusion (some people describe this as enjoying the journey).  Eventually most of us come to a place where our puzzle, in its own right, seems empty.  We seek out another to complete us.

Love is an amazing and funny thing.  Using this analogy, we see another whose puzzle seems to line up so well with ours.  Perhaps by removing a few pieces, and adding some others, we find a real connection in so many places, and for a time it feels like everything is falling into place.  The issue is, neither puzzle is complete; you simply have two incomplete puzzles joined together.  It has been my experience that after a time that persistent subconscious nagging to seek perfection either stagnates the union, or pulls it apart.

So, to the question, can you ever complete this puzzle.  I think our instinct to love is correct.  I believe I have a perfect partner out there, maybe we’ve already met.  The issue is, a two dimensional puzzle with no edges cannot be complete.

I believe that in this analogy, God provides the answer: the intuition to bend and mold ourselves in a way we never thought possible.  Through this divine wisdom, we find ourselves connecting in ways we never thought possible, as every piece becomes an edge piece.  In the end, you find yourselves forming a perfect sphere, and a perfect union, with your perfect partner.  Both becoming more than either thought possible.

I finally understand a flower’s charm

•December 1, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Beauty is in the dance, not the stage.  Existence is defined by movement, by change.  Each piece of me slipping away is a seed planted and a burden lifted.  Every piece added is a gift given freely, Delightful in its ephemeral nature.  To cling to what we have is to choke out its wonder, leaving a stagnant shell of what was intended.  I wish to be always reminded that I have earned nothing, and that the true blessing in any gift is in the giving.

Not forgotten

•May 8, 2017 • Leave a Comment

The words have died down
The tidal wave subsided
But not forgotten

The dream a whisper
Lonely nights stack up between
But not forgotten

One fated meeting
So many years ago now
I’ve not forgotten

When memory fades
Time builds dust on every page
I’ve not forgotten

Despite each misstep
All appearances aside
Still not forgotten

Your memory shines
Your voice grows ever louder
Still not forgotten

Whenever it comes
Whatever my end might be
Never forgotten

There are no such tools
Nothing to rend asunder
I’ll remember you

Meeting the Muse

•May 3, 2017 • Leave a Comment

You are my lullaby my rally cry and everything in between

Some meet the muse and are obsessed for a night

Some meet the nurse and fall in love, never to forget.

I met her and thought, I have no choice but to make her mine.

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•May 2, 2017 • Enter your password to view comments.

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Musing on time and memory

•April 30, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Consider the bio-mechanical construct of memory, it is difficult to fathom.  False memories, forgotten ones, and even the ones we retain accurately we are unsure exactly how it’s done.  Now consider that access a memory is in every case a form of time travel, to one’s personal past, wouldn’t it make sense that it required time travel at its onset to set up the mechanism itself?

Picture an existence where all options exist simultaneously, with each decision ever made existing as one copy of the universe.  This existence would be a chaotic mess, especially as it would be unclear from moment to moment exactly where one had been, is, or will be going.  Now picture an entity that can navigate this mess from an outside perspective, one different from our own.  This entity could see all options, but coaxing us to see them in any meaningful way would require a kind of push start, akin to starting up a dead stick shift car.

Consider the movie The Notebook, but instead of a story about a man trying to jog his wife’s memory one last time, it is a story of jump starting the concept of memory altogether.  The entity enters the multiverse at a point at meets the male lead when he was young, at the point where he first meets the love of his life, knowing that she will develop Alzheimer’s, a disease presently meaningless (in fact, one could claim everyone has this disease at this juncture), but which the entity can identify from its own perspective, and will develop meaning to humans as memory develops.  The entity explains this to the young man, who now has a distinct purpose guiding his actions, to marry the love of his life, setting him on a narrower vector of paths.  The entity then gifts him with time travel, which he promptly uses to visit his own future, sharing the revelation with himself.  Normally this would be a catastrophic breach of time travel protocol, irrevocably changing the past, but consider that in this state, there is no discernible past/present/future to anyone but the entity, and now the young and old man.  All the young man is doing is setting a direction for time to flow in, and choosing a path, albeit a very unlikely one (although each path is equally unlikely from an outside vantage point), for events to unfold in.   He proceeds to provide his older self with the notebook, filled with each event he plans to accomplish, adjusting as necessary as events unfold from his perspective.  Then his older self reads the notebook to the woman, who becomes the conduit for memory to begin, along the path laid out.  As she hears the events, they become more familiar to her as her brain searches to find the patterns within her own brain, essentially tuning her to one version of reality.  The memories don’t exist in the present, but the don’t need to, as they are always a look back to the past along one timeline.  As the old man continues to read, the young man continues to act, until eventually there is enough momentum along the time vector to spark a reaction, causing her to remember, now an entirely new concept.  Because she can now remember, those around her can as well, having a fixed line in space to align with, as they recall caring for her, interacting with those caring for her etc.  In fact, it is not even critical that the man “remember” during this process, as both the young and old man need only to act in the moment, a process that can be continually influenced by the entity in the man’s short term memory throughout the process if necessary, an entirely different storage model (picture Memento here).  As long as the man remains driven to accomplish his goal at any particular short term juncture, either in past or future, the momentum would continue to build, until eventually the system is jump started, resulting in memory for everyone as time aligns much like a magnet does with metal.

What I like most about this theory is that it requires love to work, as another theory of mine is that love is the only force strong enough to be retained independently of memory, allowing one to primarily act on instinct.  Basically the man’s soulmate provides him with a clear goal, and the path begins to lay itself out around that goal.  Perhaps in this way the only push the system needs is for each of our souls to be split from the start, a concept I’ve long subscribed to.  This would provide a “direction” through the multiverse, even without time existing, and time would then become a function of this direction, as the search/pursuit/maintenance of this connections becomes (or begins as) an all encompassing goal.

A Stare at the case of infinite stairs

•April 28, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Time And Space

Earth And Relativity

The Actors have both the stage

and the secret to walking it

Tangled up in Our essences

Musings on the speed of light and such

•April 28, 2017 • Leave a Comment

For some reason I feel like the equation for speed in relation for light should be rewritten (a little bit, I’m pretty sure most of this is already in the current mathematics). ‘Rest’ would be -1, light speed would be 0, ‘Rest’ in the alternate dimension/timeline would be 1 (essentially where tacheons are, where everything moves faster than light from our perspective, and they would see us as doing the same thing). We know that the speed of light in a vacuum is more of a constant in the universe than space or time, so why not position it as such, mathematically?

It just seems odd to describe light as moving, when movement itself is a function/derivative of the speed of light, kind of like using a word to define itself. ‘In a vacuum’ seems to be all you’d need to jump off from, light in darkness, with physical laws stemming out from this central starting point as light coalesces into matter and etc. It would also explain where anti matter is (or more appropriately when), and what it’s made of (also light, just sped up from our perspective, as we are sped up from its).  

Interestingly, this would mean from an outside observer’s perspective, viewing the entirety of hyperspace-time (all possible paths at once), light would not move, it would simply exist wherever it was. (I feel like I’m just restating the theory of everything here from a different vantage point). Most importantly though, because this is a logical description for existence, and also not how we experience existence, there must be more to ‘everything’ than the theory of everything can describe.  Perspective, and specifically having multiple perspectives exist, seems to change the fundamental nature of reality.

It might be far fetched, but I am attracted to the symmetry of it, and if there’s one thing I’ve noticed about physics, it’s that the symmetrical answer is most often right, even if it takes a while for humans to understand it.  

The Longest Night

•April 18, 2017 • Leave a Comment

My eyes grow tired
Struggling to stay open
Through this dreamless night

Every path sealed off
All the doors closed except for one
Atop the tower

It is a far climb
In this state I won’t make it
I must become more

Take the road to awe
Climb the porcelain tower
To stare Hades down

Sometimes to prevail
One must give up everything
Be stripped down to skin

For in this moment
Abandoning what one has
Reveals what one is

For I am a man
But I feel like I am more
I must take that chance

Through the dreamless night
I tarry on finding strength
A solace in you