6 of 1 – Half a Dozen of Another


Is a glass half empty or half full? Now psychologically, this question is basically designed to determine whether I am pessimistic or optimistic. The answer would be: both. The glass cannot be half empty without being half full. So it would depend on my perspective. From my perspective, I don't believe it is up to me, to determine whether the glass is full or empty. Does the glass think it is half empty? Or does the water believe it only half fills the glass and that at some point it may achieve total capacity? Or maybe it is the other way around and the water thinks it will finally fully escape its boundaries. Does the glass realize that it is not half empty or half full? But that it will always be a full glass? Even if it relieves itself of the water, it is still full.

But lets say the burden of this question, is upon me.

Let say for instance, that I have just spent an uncountable number of days crawling though a barren wasteland. I come upon this said glass, half full or half empty. I am undoubtedly dying of thirst. My answer would have to be half empty, based on the fact that I would most likely wish to have more, than just half a glass of water.

Now let say I am drowning, in the middle of an ocean, no matter how hard I swim, I can't find the surface. I come upon a bottle, half water, and half air. Now since I cannot hold my breath forever, and I have no need for more water, the glass is half full of water.

To determine whether I am optimistic or pessimistic would have to depend upon my circumstances. My circumstances would depend upon my decisions. My decisions would depend upon the outcome I wish to achieve. The outcome I wish to achieve, would have to depend upon what kind of mood I am in; when I decide how high a price I am willing to pay, to get in or out of the situation, I have decided to get myself in or out of.

The real question here is: since the average double Y chromosome in my bloodline doesn't live passed their sixties, and I am in my thirties, am I half dead or still half alive? Or did I waste the first half of my life and in the other will I learn to live?

"Goodbye"
11-18-07

Dimmed and clouded eyes
Cast toward darkened skies
Heavy with compromise

Standing as a nation
Together in isolation
Twisted manipulation

Cold and broken hearted
This wasn't how we started
But it is how we parted

Deep and blackened oceans
To and fro, violent emotions
As time tides, turn devotions

To drown alone in the rain
Alive with the burn of pain
Knowing only, starting again

Cold and broken hearted
This wasn't how I started
But it is how I parted

To never know an other
The open arms of a mother
The sure hand of a brother

To walk among only daemons
Shunning the passing of suns
Is that why, everyone runs?

Cold and broken hearted
This wasn't how you started
But it is how you parted

To my dear readers,

All apologies for the lack of posts lately, but Tattered Pages is on the move. At the moment where I am headed hasn't an internet connection so this transmission is coming to you live from the beach house. The new place is great, and filled with really nice toys and has a much cleaner lake. Right now, I'm stuffing a coffin in the back of the Cruiser, and trying to figure out what else needs to go. And speaking of needs and toys, my axe and amp are already there, acoustics sound awesome. It still has the dance floor from when it was, I guess, a speakeasy. Booze and music, I'm home.

And oh yes, then there are the ghosts. They haven't formally introduced themselves yet, but they are watching. I believe one is a little girl, it is hard to tell from just her giggles, I seem to amuse her.

So I will be incommunicado for a little while. Give me sometime to move in, then I'll tell everyone how to get there, on the weekends you can stop in grab a bite to eat from the BBQ pit. The pulled pork on a skillet with taters is awesome. Maybe some tea or coffee and homemade desserts.

And you can meet the man, behind the madness, that is Tattered Pages. *evil grin*

 

Until next time…good night…and always check under the bed before you climb in, you never know what's under there.

How does one determine the cost, of something that is priceless? When do you decide the price you are paying is too high? To cut your losses, and simply walk away, give up? Talent, devotion, passion for what you believe in, even love. All of these things are priceless, a value; a price tag, can not be applied to these things. But, there is a cost. Talent can not be purchased. It can not be bartered, stolen, or given. It is something each one of us already possesses. So what is it's cost? Time, energy, blood, sweet and tears. That, is the price of talent. To spend endless hours, applying yourself to honing an ability, until it is nothing short of perfection. Can devotion be measured? To accept something or someone for what they are, without willfully changing it or them. To appreciate, and continue your loyalty when things do change, whether it for the better or the worse. Passion. How much are you willing to give up for what you believe in? Is it a half hearted attempt, or will you fire all of your guns at once? Is it all…or nothing? Would you risk everything, with no guarantee, that you will ever succeed? Would you head out on a journey with nothing, knowing that there is great possibility, that you will never reach your destination. Life. Every living creature on this planet, has a survival instinct. The seed planted deep in the ground, feeds off the soil as it roots itself; while at the same time it pushes it's way to the surface. When facing a life or death situation, you either run, or you fight. If you can't run, you will, with every ounce of energy, fight. It is instinct. It is self-preservation. You will do what ever it takes to survive. Here comes the big one: Love. How much do you love me? It is a silly question, but a question that must be answered. Do you love someone enough to spend the rest of your life with them? To sacrifice your own wants and needs for this person? If so, how much? How much does a love mean to you? Enough to render all the priceless things, worthless? Could you spend time doing something with someone, you don't want to do, because you know it will make them happy? Could you devote yourself to someone, without question, without doubt? Would you willfully sacrifice your life, knowing that because you died, they get to live?

How does one determine when, something, just isn't worth it?

Both songs are from Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel's 1966 album Sounds Of Silence

 

"The Sound Of Silence"

(Simon/Garfunkel)

Hello darkness, my old friend;

I've come to talk with you again.

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping,

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains within the sound of silence.

 

In restless dreams I walked alone,

Narrow streets of cobblestone.

'Neath the halo of a street lamp,

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night, and touched the sound of silence.

 

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more.

People talking without speaking,

People hearing without listening,

People writing songs that voices never shared.

And no one dared disturb the sound of silence.

 

"Fools," said I, "You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows.

Hear my words that I might teach you,

Take my arms that I might reach you."

But my words like silent raindrops fell,

And echoed in the wells of silence.

 

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made.

And the sign flashed out its warning,

In the words that it was forming.

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets

are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls, and whispered in the sounds of silence."

 

 

"I Am A Rock"

(Simon/Garfunkel)

A winter's day

In a deep and dark December

I am alone

Gazing from my window

To the streets below

On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow

 

I am a rock

I am an island

 

I've built walls

A fortress steep and mighty

That none may penetrate

I have no need of friendship

Friendship causes pain

It's laughter and it's loving I disdain

 

I am a rock

I am an island

 

Don't talk of love

Well I've heard the word before

It's sleeping in my memory

I won't disturb the slumber

Of feelings that have died

If I never loved I never would have cried

 

I am a rock

I am an island

 

I have my books

And my poetry to protect me

I am shielded in my armor

Hiding in my room

Safe within my womb

I touch no one and no one touches me

 

I am a rock

I am an island

 

And a rock feels no pain

And an island never cries

A twin spin from the Platters. This is the stuff your grandparent's made out to. Just thought I'd leave you with that picture. *Evil grin*

 

"Twilight Time"

(Ram, Nevens, Nevens, Dunn)

 

Heavenly shades of night are falling, it's Twilight Time

Out of the mist your voice is calling, "Tis Twilight Time"

When purple colored curtains, mark the end of day

I'll hear you, my dear, at Twilight Time.

 

Deepening shadows gather splendor, as day is done

Fingers of night will soon surrender, the setting sun

I count the moments, darling, til you're here with me

Together, at last, at Twilight Time.

 

Here in the afterglow of day

We keep our rendezvous, beneath the blue

Here, in the sweet and same old way

I fall in love again, as I did then.

 

Deep in the dark, your kiss will thrill me, like days of old

Lighting the spark of love, that fills me, with dreams untold

Each day I pray for evening, just to be with you

Together, at last, at Twilight Time.

 

 

 

 

"Only You"

(Ram, Rand)

 

Only you, can make, all this world seem right

Only you, can make, the darkness bright

Only you, and you alone, can thrill me, like you do

And fill my heart with love, for only you

 

Only you, can do make, all this change in me

For it's true, you are my, destiny

When you hold my hand, I understand

The magic that you do

You're my dream, come true

My one and only you

 

Only you, can do make, all this change in me

For it's true, you are my, destiny

When you hold my hand, I understand

The magic that you do

You're my dream, come true

My one and only you

 

One and only you....

"Life, wherever it reveals itself; truth, no matter how bitter; bold, sincere speech with people–these are my leaven, these are what I want, this is where I am afraid of missing the mark."

---Modest Mussorgsky in a letter to Vladimir Strasov

 

"The Sage"

(Greg Lake)

From the album Pictures At An Exhibition

by Mussorgsky/Emerson, Lake And Palmer

 

I carry the dust of a journey

That cannot be shaken away

It lives deep within me

For I breathed it every day

 

You and I are yesterday's answers

The earth of the past turned to flesh

Eroded by time's rivers

To the shapes we now possess

 

Come share of my breath and my substance

And mingle our streams and our times

In that infinite moment

Our reasons are lost in our rhymes

"Fear Not Death, but the Lack of Life"

8-26-07

For A-

 

"I will show you fear in a handful of dust."

-T.S. Eliot

The Waste Land (1922)

 

I - Birth (and So It Begins)

 

I will not regard fear, in the desolate and empty sea

Past three wands, unknown. Three Fates, destiny.

Fear not death by water, but death by the inferno

Embrace the sun, release all, you could not know

 

Journeys' end never reached, because never started

A destination, only dreamed of, by the fainthearted

Take my outstretched hand, to be your faithful squire,

Together we will endure mysteries' of water and fire.

 

 

II - Life's Game (and The End)

 

A castle built unto clouds, tall enough to scratch the sky

Flanked by rooks, evermore. A Sylvan Paradise on high

For a King and Queen, no longer pawns in Life's game

From inside the tapestry walls, music and words proclaim

 

Art mirrors the trails and triumphs chanced to reach here

Outside ivied walls, all is surrounded by spruce and mere.

Her night'gale song brings dawn, his, brings night, and rest

Good night, milady; good night, sweet; good night, dearest

 

 

III - Fire (Youth Remembered)

 

Wandering all of creation; there are world's other than these

I wonder them alone, worlds of exile and illusion, appeased.

I burn with fire, for all thing are on fire. I have my doubts…

I have spilled over in good fortune, and I have had my droughts

 

But now I have come to a crossroad, for which I can not pass

Not by uncertainty, the road I take from here, matters not, alas

I've grown weary, of exploring, alone. I fire still; but for you, I burn.

Not the burn of lust (but that as well), it is for your thoughts, I yearn

 

 

IV - Water (Fear)

 

And I drown: in my thoughts of you, in your eyes, and in your song

By breath is taken, the very mention of your name. I know it is wrong

For myself to have experienced so many lifetimes, and for you, so few.

My heart is taken, and by another, so is yours. I fear, what, if you knew.

 

 

V - Doubt (?)

"Tempus Fugit"

8-25-07

 

Omnes vulterant, ultima necat.

 

The minutes pass, slow and long

Yet Death is a mere heartbeat away

Life passes fleeting, a short song

Even though, I am reborn, everyday

 

The hours 'til your return, drag on

Endlessly spaces in betwixt hands

Time stops still, when you're gone

And the mighty gear of time, stands

 

The days pass, and together as one

As time flees, on her restless wings

Again, our moment together is done

When the ever heartless bell, rings

 

 

 

I may continue this piece, if I have the time.

"Twas Dead Of Night "

8-24-07

 

'Twas dead of night, cold, damp and dreary

So to my berth, I went, spent and weary

A lone candle, cast a shadow, eerie

As I embrace my throw. Alone. Teary.

 

'Twas dead of night, when I woke with a start

I woke with an empty place in my heart

And it is my deepest dreams, that impart

I always feel this way, when we're apart

 

'Twas dead of night, I sat, twisted by thought

While tearing at myself, broken and wrought

Struggling with my dreams of us, I fought

To distract my reflections of you, naught