I now know how Ginsberg and Thomas Felt Half of the Time

To have the desire to sing a beautiful song,
But not be able to find one’s voice is an agony
I have felt many a time, and I am in that same funk as I sit
Here, scribbling in my notes.
The beautiful poetry is deep within my soul,
But my constipated brain cannot find the right
Path to send the lyrics to my hands an let this
Music that burns inside me out on paper.

I have tried and tried and tried again
To free myself of this-
I feel as if I have a poem in me,
But all that comes is random nonsense.

Vanity and Vexation of Spirit

Vanity and Vexation of Spirit

Ecclesiastes (1.14)

I

I have seen the finest minds of my adolescence,
Destroyed by that madness that is the college admissions process,
Made hysterical by the unforgiving system.
What lies they spew, what lies!
“Apply, apply”, they shout as they wave their banners,
Send their propagandized fliers,
And convinces you that you are the right candidate for x institution.

At this point, I do not know who I am to trust.
I am like prey, trying to find a safe route.
I have been sucked into the trap of committing myself to
A particular place and I still have not quit that drug.
I am enslaved to that cruel master.
Having attempted rehabilitation a multitude of times,
I am no closer to sanity than I have been before.

Walking the halls to an abyss,
Where the elect are prenatally chosen to a life of
Prominence and we poor common souls are
Faced to dwell in the depths of the underworld
Conjuring up stories of the celebrated existence of the chosen.

And the electorate is not innocent in this matter’
Nay, they are the true culprits of this existence.
How we are not mortals to them,
We are merely a jumble of numbers,
Making it easier for them to make rash decisions,
And with a faulty criterion.

Such a wasteland my generation is becoming,
With the few blessed exempt from this existence.
From New York to Boston to Chicago to Pennsylvania,
We are all of the same mold! We all lead the same life,
And we all, more or less, in the same pickle.

BUT WE ARE NOT ALL THE SAME!!!
We share the same customs, same country, and are of similar ability,
But we are unique souls, a fact that these face-blind gods overlook.

This fact those cloud-dwellers don’t seem to understand,
And we, the youth, suffer.
So where do we turn?
Our fate is not in our hands anymore,
And the corrupted souls of my graduating class fall into the bottomless
Put that is hedonistic behavior.
How lamentable this is, and how devoid of sense these actions are!

What must we escape from?
How do these misguided individuals find solace in such disgraceful activities?
I do not understand it, nor do I condone it, yet I feel compelled to investigate the former.

These putrid souls, misguided by this Western culture are content to spend their weekend nights in a state of inebriation, sheltered from the unforgiving realities of life.
Sometime I wish that I too could succumb to this escapism,
But I have this gift/curse to be above that nonsense.


II

What has driven these beautiful minds of my adolescence to this madness?
Is it the universities?
Is it the parents?
Is it the teachers?
Is it the television?
Is it the musicians?
Is it the magazines?
Is it the newspapers?

It is them all, and ordered as such by influence!

What a waste of such talents;
That is the real crime!!!!

We are intoxicated with this anxiety, another drug I am enslaved to,
And we did not choose what society we are born into,
We only decide what society we die in,
And the lot of us is not at this latter stage.

Such talent, spent on mindless adventures,
And cast off by the wayside by those who look at these people as
Numbers, and care only about their own ranking?

Is life a competition for who is better?????????
Social Darwinism isn’t dead, it’s as alive at is has ever been!

And I spend my nights,
Howling at the moon and the sun and the planets and the stars,
In a state, intoxicated by my drugs of choice,
With the best minds of my adolescence,
With the acceptance rates of our futures staring down from
That celestial realm, judging us, watching our every action.

I’ll be with you in Princeton, where god hands out
Numbers and we see which line we will stand in, thus determining our eternal fate.

So this waste land of a generation,
Overtaken by madness derived from the societal structures
That determines our fate whence we reach the age of no return.

Oh Diabolical Temptress!

Note that a literary reading of the poem is impropper.

Oh Diabolical Temptress!

Oh divine being, how unfathomably beautiful you are.
Oh diabolical temptress-
Your pulchritude is unmatched by all the others,
And you have a presence that is wonderfully unique.

When I first learned of how stunning you were,
I was skeptical,
But having since been in your presence
I agree with the consensus verdict.

How tall and gorgeous you are,
Shapely where it is symmetrically perfect.
Upon seeing you, I have not been able to think of anything else.
You have my entire mind and soul!

Oh yes, I have eaten the forbidden fruit that is to look upon your beauty,
And I desire nothing else- the serpent hath tricked me!

How perfect your exterior is, and your mystique is equally impressive.
What an enigmatic specimen you are!
Indeed, your inner beauty is unmatched in the history of the universe.

And your lips- what mind-blowing ideas have come out of them, and what I would give to touch those jewels so heavenly.

What I would give to dwell in your cavernous hallways,
Even though I am unworthy of the souls that have heretofore spent time in you.

What obscene fantasies I have had, spending my nights, dreaming of being with you!
But no- you only allow an extremely select few lie with you.

What a cruel creature you are-
What a tease, what a tease!

Oh dame so comely, such madness you inspire-
How like Werther I am in you presence!

I see not the reason in this perfunctory selectivity,
And I pray that you would see how inane your exclusivity is.

An Ode to Mathematicians

That fearful symmetry spoken about by Blake
Can make men cringe and lie awake
Many a night and run equations through their heads
Never finding slumber in their beds.

It is the perfection that they crave,
That can be found in those masterpieces called numbers
They work with these things until they meet their graves;
Such glorious thing of never ending wonder.

What I would do to be among the elect,
And reach that kind of immaculate genius
To those brave souls I have the ultimate respect,
They control the patterns of nature that deceive us.

To know the language of the gods so intimately
And to know poetry so beautiful it cannot be grasped by the common man
If I could have this gift given to me,
I would trade my fingers and my entire hand!

I would trade all my gifts of words,
To be one of those geniuses of codes,
For their vision of reality is not at all blurred
And they have inspired me to sing this ode.

Sing Not In Me

Don't ask, I dont even know why, just read and laugh at my lack of skill, or revel in my references of classical culture.



Forbidden Object of My Desire

Sing not in me oh muse, if I am not to be among the heroes who have come far and wide to that glorious lyceum!

For what use is a muse, just to tempt, to create poetry, the wine of the gods,
If not to have the desired nymph after composition.

Oh forbidden object of my desire, why dost thou tempt me so.
You tell me that I have a shot to dwell in your presence,
But yet you make me wait and give me misleading signs.
Why must you be so cruel?
Was it the data fata?
Is it that some men have mediocrity thrust upon them,
When they desire greatness?

Such agony I have felt, for I have heard the beauteous music of the Sirens,
Yet I am tied to the mast, and those with the strength to untie me are
Deciding if I am worthy or not.

What kind of existence is this?
Is it the path the gods have chosen?

What I would give for an insight into the admittance hall on Mount Olympus,
And to know what cavalcade of events will befall me in the coming weeks!

For lo, the fates are cruel beings,
And they care not about what their power can do to us mortals!

I Dare You, Poseidon!

Going along with the theme of the previous post, I have written another poem to try to console myself with this stressful time of applying to colleges, especially applying early to The University of Chicago. I know I am not a poet, but at least this poem ends on a positive note.



I Dare You, Poseidon!


How canst thou be so cruel,
Oh rulers of the heavenly realm?

Why must we remain in this purgatory,
Not knowing if we are saved or not?

Porque debo que vivir como esto?
Sin conociendo si o no yo iría al reino celestial!

The anxiety is enough to tear the souls out of men’s’ hearts.
What sense this world is lacking!
Who decided that so few men are saved, and the majority are banished to a life of shame?

Oh cruel master, what transgressions have I committed to deserve such fate!

Erasmus felt my same anxiety, while
Luther said that only true faith can save one, and
Calvin said that we are predestined to be saved or not.

I am Erasmus, waiting out my days of unproductivity,
Unable to be of any use to mankind!

My talents are great, but what good am I if I am not among the elect?!

Oh to waste the fruits of the lord, obsessing over if I will be let into his kingdom?
Heavenly rulers, do tell if I am to dwell in your kingdom or not,
Or am I wasting all of this time and energy?

If only this anxiety could inspire great poetry,
But no, my powerful thoughts do not translate into words.
What am I turning into?

But is Erasmus right???

Must I remain in between, or follow the wisdom of Luther, and have faith that
Those heavenly minds will smile upon me, when they come to my name in the book of life?

Oh, but I can see the impending winter of discontent,
Whence all I can do is done, and I must wait for my fate?

By the power of verse, I have worked it out!Be gone, you accursed lords of the heavenly realms!

You cannot contain my will!

I am Odysseus, challenging Poseidon and with great power ending up as the victor!

It shall be made glorious summer, and a glorious four years, which lead to another glorious four years! Oh rulers of the heavens, I dare you to deny me access into your realm!

Erasmus is wrong!
Calvin is wrong!
Luther is wrong!

But collectively, you are on track. Oh Erasmus, heed the wisdom of Luther and believe, and if given the potential that Calvin spoke of, you shall be great!

So I invoke you Poseidon- I dare you to keep me down!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here I Go Again...

So I suck at poetry, but I was nervous about college and so I wrote another one, and I do not care if it is horrible I did it and you can kiss off if you hate it; don't get self-rightous, I know I'm not good yet, but whatever, it's my weblog and I shall post what I want to post.


Oh how the tribulations of life weigh on my soul,
With my eternal fate no longer in my hands.

Oh, why must I worship those in the house of acceptance
And forced to stay in a state of purgatory, wondering if my name
Is written in the book of the lord or not?

What have I done in my past lives to deserve this fate?
What sick creature has forced me to wait, and put me into a life of exile,
Taken away from the house of the lord.

Oh what I would do to go back when I could have my fate
What I would do return to the time of innocence, before this sick, gruesome test.

Am I worthy to stand among the gods, in the great land to the north?
Oh, for heaven’s sake, please tell me if I am doomed to a life of exile in purgatory,
Or have I done what the great overmen desire?
Have I pleased the gods enough, or am I doomed to eternal banishment?
Tantaene Animis Caelestibus Irae?!

Oh how overwhelming this time is, for I can no longer hold my own weight.

Oh what a tragic pity it would be, to have squandered the chance to live with the gods,
And spend an eternity among mindless beasts.

Do I control my own fate- not any more.
The time has passed, and I am at the mercy of the gods!

A Reevaluation of the Classics of Literature

Being as I consider myself rather well-read for my age, I am beginning to think that we must reevaluate what we literary critics consider the greatest works of world literature. As Nietzsche called for a grand reevaluation of values, I call for a reevaluation of greatness- are some of the “classics” a matter of timeliness and not sheer greatness. I am calling to use critical methods, to determine of those considered great are indeed great, and are to be considered great in the context of world literature today.

We have all been assigned a novel that we read begrudgingly for an academic class, and upon completion we wonder why on earth this was assigned. “Surely they could have chosen something better!” we exclaim with discontent. But the professor voraciously defends the work, claiming that we are shallow critics, and have a lot to learn about literature. I am calling for a recount- we must look over what we hail as “classics”, and sort out all those that do not belong.

In clarification, I am not saying that we should throw out all that we have ever thought about literature- god no! But what I am saying is that we must reexamine what we have regarded as classics. I do not think that all of those works included in the conversation of great literature do not belong, and that new classics have been written and discovered, and ought to be included in the conversation. I have read some so-called classics, and felt like my time would have been spent better sitting around, twiddling my thumbs for the duration of time I spent reading it. We must make a distinction between what is historically significant, and what is actually a classic work. I also wish to give new writers a chance to create a great work.

I would like to state a laundry list of works that I have read that need some reconsideration: Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Billy Budd, Foretopman, Moira by Julien Green, The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradburry, King Lear, and Deep River by Shausaku Endo. Some of these are undiscovered classics, and others may not deserve the acclaim they have heretofore received.

There are classics to be discovered and other works that must be left in the dust of literature. This is the reevaluation of classics!

Turn Left

Apparently, Bukowski has had an effect on me. Tonight, I had an experience going home that screamed Bukowski. I do not care if everyone that reads this hates it, but it cannot be said that it is anything short of Bukowskian (don’t tell me it isn’t a word). I do not anticipate writing anything else inspired by Bukowski or any other poetry for that matter (and you know who I am not stepping on your toes, you're much better than me), and I am by no means a poet. I copied Bukowski’s style exactly, but I felt that I wanted to write it, and I felt like blogging it. Love it or hate it, here it goes.


Turn Left

as I walked into
the convenience
store,
I saw the man from
Arkansas
asking for directions

the old lady wearing
pants too
tight
and make-up
too much
is
clueless

“Where do you
need to go”
I inquired

Aspen Glen Drive

says the man
from
Arkansas

“I used to
live there.”
I respond

so I go over
the directions
3 times

starting over 8
times with

“turn left outta here”

I tell him to
drive past the

tire store, middle
school and yield
sign.

I gave him directions
down to a t

as I leave
the store,

with my diet
Dr. Pepper
because they
were all out
of
regular Dr. Pepper

I feel good about
myself for giving
the poor, lost
man from Arkansas
directions

As I climb into my
car and turn it
on I see
the man from
Arkansas
turn right
out of
the parking lot

“shit” I say

and now my
Dr. Pepper
looks worse than
it did 2 minutes ago.

Nietzschian Morality

In reading one of Nietzsche’s masterpieces Twilight of the Idols: or, How to Philosophize with a Hammer, I have found some things disturbing that conflict with my own personal philosophy (if I may use the word of the ages in that sense). He states:

My demand upon the philosopher is known, that he take his stand beyond good and evil and leave the illusion of moral judgment beneath himself. This demand follows from an insight which I was the first to formulate: that there are altogether no moral facts. Moral judgments agree with religious ones in believing in realities which are no realities. Morality is merely an interpretation of certain phenomena—more precisely, a misinterpretation. Moral judgments, like religious ones, belong to a stage of ignorance at which the very concept of the real, and the distinction between what is real and imaginary, are still lacking: thus "truth," at this stage, designates all sorts of things which we today call "imaginings." Moral judgments are therefore never to be taken literally: so understood, they always contain mere absurdity. Semeiotically, however, they remain invaluable: they reveal, at least for those who know, the most valuable realities of cultures and inwardnesses which did not know enough to "understand" themselves. Morality is mere sign language, mere symptomatology: one must know what it is all about to be able to profit from it.

(taken from The Nietzsche Channel, http://www.geocities.com/thenietzschechannel

/twi.htm) Published 1889Based on the translation by Walter KaufmannText amended in part by The Nietzsche Channel.

If there is any problem in reprinting this text on my blog, please alert me, and it shall be removed.

I fear that Nietzsche has missed the point of morality, and by this time he was under a year from his infamous mental breakdown. It appears that Nietzsche has missed the fundamental point of Kant’s Categorical Imperative, which is my God, de facto. He has no sense of morality for morality’s sake. It is possible that Nietzsche associates all ethics with religion, and sees no reason for morality once God has died. But that is to miss the point of the functioning society, and even to undermine one’s own conscience. He refutes morality to begin with, but on what basis? What Nietzsche is saying, I believe, is that we ought not to look for a human code of ethics, but more to examine how we treat each other, but not to judge them. However, to examine and not to judge is to be a historical sociologist. It is to look at the past, but not do anything about the future. I am not for being above good and evil, and I think Nietzsche errs in this fact.

Nietzsche’s flaw is he doesn’t seem to comprehend a morality system that isn’t based in punishment. The Christian morality system is, especially at that time, based on a punishment system. He saw that the fear of damnation made one act a certain way; it is important to note that the punishment of hell outweighed the reward of heaven. I think that Nietzsche either didn’t grasp or refuted being moral for morality’s sake. It’s this conception of morality that I believe is flawed.

A major point to my credit the concept of conscious guilt. Nietzsche is attempting to argue that morality is a social (and religious) construct, and it is relativistic. I argue that while the exact code differs among cultures, there is still the concept of inner guilt that no one is beyond. It is the fact that we have the capacity to reevaluate our decisions, and that we are programmed with guilty consciences shows that morality is not a fabrication. We must be moral; we want to be moral! Nietzsche went to far in his reevaluation in values by discounting morality itself, and I am not one to stand by and allow this. To ignore morality is to ignore human nature, and the inner desire to do what is right. Nietzsche had "had it up to here” with Christianity, but he associated all morality with religiosity which is a mistake. You cannot rise above the herd if you do not realize any sort of contact of action. Even Nietzsche isn’t above the categorical imperative, and my immense admiration and respect for him still exists, but morality is an entity unto itself, not a piteous human construct.