The Sophist

2014-07-24 12:00 am

If only I had money to make bets,
I'd bet some lunatics have somehow met,
To plan silent auctions for dead men,
If I won I would buy Casey Kasem's head.

The Sophist

2014-07-24 12:00 am

Quick, snap some pictures so my friends can see my band.
 We don't have any good songs yet so they wouldn't
 understand without the glamour shots.

Quick, take some stammered stills while I hammer shots. This
 will be the best band to make it the top without a strand
 of talent in our hands. 

Don't tell me how to raise my band. I know what music looks
 like; tactfully unplanned. I write Pizza Hut music like
 Ariana Grande. I expand, and so disband. My drummer had
 demands, and ignored my commands. My solo career takes
 stand. 

Quick, snap some more glamour shots so my friends can see
 firsthand depraved aspects of my brand.

The Sophist

2014-07-23 12:00 am

Law makes obligatory,
More than one Nation,
To waste business hours,
Achieving more profligation.

You shall not pass,
The whole world may perish,
From Brahma to a blade of grass,
But you are still here.

All uninhibitory,
Lord of Creation,
You are in all things,
You are in every location.

View darkness unmasked,
The whole world you cherish,
Will dissolve in a flash,
But still have no fear,
Knowing self world dissolves,
Ignorant it appeared,
You are the heart of awareness,
No less, end of story.

The Sophist

2014-07-22 12:00 am

I hear a voice,
A voice that is screaming,
Words with no meaning,
From lips I can't lean to,
If I try.

By chance or by choice,
By passion or comfort,
One or one hundred,
Sounds you can run through,
In your mind.

If you give it a try,
You can accidentally bike out onto the road,
Get hit by a car,
You can get drunk and die,
Body falls on a button,
Makes the world explode,
It isn't that hard.
If you're not young or retarded.

Theseisms destroy,
All classical meaning,
Those labels you're dreaming,
I'm going to eschew them,
If you try.

Sit back and rejoice,
I'm not trying to free you,
Nor'm I trying feed you my truth,
View beauty in tandem,
Anytime.

Life isn't a crime,
Keep your mind on a lovely abode,
Eyes watching the north star,
You can get drunk and not die,
Live all that is written,
'tis the will of the poet,
La palmure! J'am trop tard!¹
Soft sophist; sophisticated hardly.

Footnotes:
1. La palmure...tard "The web! I'm too late!"

The Sophist

2014-07-21 12:00 am

See depths of apathy,
In lengths of hair,
Like half of me there,
Other half in'other room,
Gaping blankly it stares there too,
Too, too, thoughts like lasers shooting off
 in my mind,
See depths of beauty filling my eyes' seas,
'splayed 'round the front of my being,
All this beauty is mine,
Even you are in the bounty,
You are the wind, the sail, the boat beneath
 my feet.
You move me.
You are a seed that grew toward this
 ever-falling tree.
Freedom gnaws at nature,
A crutching being what's need.

The Sophist

2014-07-15 12:00 am

Belly poked by intrauterine demise -
 infanticide - now I can poke her in her
 thighs. I fantasized that maybe the baby
 would have cried, or that I would have
 stopped it, crazy by the pain I feel inside.
 Now I swear there's nothing there. I lost the
 key to the divine.

I dreamed a life of orgies but my sex life is
 austere. Who cares? I drink nightly, and dream
 of an affair with a tryst. I jot prose for love
 not there and recite them to the one that I
 declare. I'm sick from life; to levy death is
 fair. I'm too sick to spread my sickness. Give
 them death, who fucking cares?

The Sophist

2014-07-10 12:00 am

I'm not mad,
Or blinded by infinity,
I want the moon,
As I saw in my epiphany,
That's all.

The Sophist

2014-07-07 12:00 am

Hating rap,
Via rappers hating freestyle,
Respecting the art,
Seeing nothing worthwhile.

A new look is what's need,
Art lied, we need focus,
Rap needs Lied.

The Sophist

2014-07-04 12:00 am

He speaks in subterfuge,
He makes myth from animal bones, 
'scribes visions of mothers viewed postnatal,
He calls them "future you".
He claims Caesar's final breath found you.
He sees a subtle use,
And has you build his thrones.
He's too busy to view.
He gives you your fill,
You attack at his illusions,
'til your confusion is ill.

I write folk songs for fools.
Without steps I reach your homes,
Crying disses of another's views most fatal
I call them "false truths",
I hand out bauble knives to the Fountain Youth,
I burn the stable spruce,
And make off with the stones,
I take the dragons too,
I live just to kill,
I attack at your confusion,
Pushing your illusions downhill.

The Sophist

2014-07-03 12:00 am

Another victory means I'm undone,
Wars are lost where battles won,
I can no longer fight with spirits dead,
The bards asleep, the songs are done.

Pyrrhus produced a record for fun,
Ruined industry in one fell swoop,
Breaking critics' thumbs,
Sounds of cyanide group hit number one.

Perhaps best to join the opposition,
For fear that death becomes my own position,
My army met attrition,
Attrition proved a worthy foe.

But if they come, I must not go,
For I doth know, sky hide not sun,
Nor drums, moon, cloud or snow.
I'll shine bright 'til my gallows strung,
I saved the Kingdom; 
Now I'm scum.

The Sophist

2014-06-30 12:00 am

I advise,
20 some-odd years of life,
To adhere,
To live for four more years,
And the reason to live for;
Four more years.

Do I love you?
I refuse to answer,
So the answer's no,
I walk home heart-broke,
Coat-less in the cold,
A propos of the wet snow.

Carving names in cave walls with a bone,
I plan a life before me in stone,
Four more years for us all,
And if the fall doth happen,
Four more years for us all,

I rise,
Rags to riches and homeless again,
No fear,
In the four year plan.
I devise,
To never be homeless again,
My reason to live for;
My own device.

If you want to run,
I will take you there,
Somewhere beautiful,
Eclipses everywhere,
Full-on inscrutable,
Just live for four more years.

The Sophist

2014-06-27 12:00 am

If this be in 'plaint,
Let it slap the taint,
My GAD spooks the best in the medical
 community,
Gadzooks, 
If I were a saint,
I'd be the saint of head cases with no
 cure or immunity,
Let loose,
No 5150 in the Land of Impunity.

The Sophist

2014-06-25 12:00 am

I swing about a bauble,
I scream about all belief,
And claim it to be fallible,
I run to where the light doth scramble,
To a place where all the truths are false,
And dreams are able, and soar about my bauble,
Radiant light of torch-lit dragon stables,
I sing in fable, and swing about my bauble,
All the dragons burnt alive by gas,
Spilled off tables knocked and set alight.
The old king has no ace to punish strike,
Now that dragons are not able to end life.
A workforce overthrows the king unable to know why,
A mutiny by accident with baubles as our knives.

The Sophist

2014-06-25 12:00 am

It all seems fine, but in the contents of Hell,
In the contents of Hell we find ourselves,
In these confines, context reveals,
It all seems fine, take no notice of flaming steel.
False conflicts too real, long to be alone teenaged.
Reconciliation unreal, plans set and are sealed locked.
Fools say both true and false can be nice,
Consistent and lacking of.

The Sophist

2014-06-24 12:00 am

They told me to love not,
Or so the way it seems,
Now everyone loves but me,
Critics embraced, 
Mystics fought,
Sweet love to never be,
A conversation over tea,
Medusian eyes stoned, 
My forearms to my knees,
Huddled, statued, 'splayed in local park,
Monument to those cold and alone,
Monument of a man without a heart.

The Sophist

2014-06-19 12:00 am

Oy Vey,
A Mogwai of a brain,
Nibbled after midnight,
Now unable to maintain.

They say,
We can move to Hogewey,
We can spend time doing nothing,
We can piss away our days.

The Sophist

2014-06-18 12:00 am

Abeyant for the fall of man,
Obeyant utilitarian,
To be killed by robot tanks,
Brought to life and killed again.

To turn the world into a sun,
Instead I'll long to own the moon,
No muse but she, the only one,
Her darkness tears my skin of gloom.

Bottled pride,
A drunk misuse,
Beauty whore'd out to the masses,
All could be in bliss without,
Fragile multitudes,
No doubt, 
My love is better glass-less.

The Sophist

2014-06-17 12:00 am

Youth dreamed a smiling father, 
Age and wisdom despise it,
Youth aimed at trying faltered, 
Where misfortune is a muse, 
Poor ol' fortune is abused.

Handed off and thrown away,
Opulence burnt dead thrones,
Meaning in our days are found,
Amongst marginalia on headstones.