January 30th, 2001

Doom

Poetry ... yeah, I get the drift that nobody fucking cares

Blah... blah... blah... wrote this on the El coming back from the RSI/Unicity meeting out in the burbs on Saturday. Was excited about all the stuff coming, but depressed that nobody that *I* know seems to give a flying fuck about their health. What does it take? Hell, even folks that are SICK don't fucking care about TAKING CARE of their health ... everybody wants to pass the stick along. Fuck humanity. Fucking stupid standing monkies. I hate this fucking race. Go ahead and fucking DIE ... see if I care. The opportunity that is the new Unicity Network should have people standing in lines around the block to get involved. But they're fucking blind ... sucked into the stupid cynicism of the herd. Baah, fucking baah. WHY THE FUCK DO I CARE? WHY??? Fucking stupid monkey-sheep. BAAAAAH!



                    AT THE MAELSTROM GATE


                    churning
                    disparate forces
                    all a-roil
                    we are hope
                    we are despair
                    we are excitement
                    and the deepest clinging
                    fen of fear

                    like a vista's
                    open sky,
                    a blacktop stretch
                    to horizon edge,
                    the idea of country
                    where we're free,
                    so these potentials
                    know no bounds

                    but then we look
                    at all those days
                    spent so futile
                    yielding naught
                    and at the person
                    who we are
                    do darkly centered
                    alien, exiled

                    how can this
                    attain to that?
                    how can we
                    taste the fruit
                    hung tempting now
                    before our eyes
                    yet always set
                    beyond our grasp?

                    I blind myself
                    to "common" sense
                    and step again
                    into the blast
                    no mundane wisdom
                    guides herein
                    no earthly voice
                    shall sway the ear



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                01/27/2001

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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