There was a great sadness that enveloped us
A great gladness
A certain beautiful glorious madness
In our dreams is a world without pollution or decay
A world where our ancestors stood tall and strong and proud because all that was done was done with their hands and the work they did they could truly call honest and good
We will never have flying cars
We will never have green cities
We will never explore the far reaches of space because we don’t deserve it
We were given an earth of wonder by God our creator and we have forsaken it to live in middle class comfort
Every Bluetooth signal and Current Year Ford Focus is an affront to God
Every industrial creation is a sin in which limited forgiveness can be given
Every day I am losing patience
Deep in the woods of community park East there is a tree
Completely stripped of bark and branches it stands as a spire, White as bone and without blemish
Around the base of this tree there grows vines and bushes of mysterious variety
If I were not Christian I would feel compelled to bow in worship or in reverence to this holy spire of nature
Oh Elder column of wood
Oh spirit of Earth, if such spirits exist
As I stare at its silent power as 100 or more feet behind me lies a wealthy suburban neighborhood
Unknowing of the sacred ground on which their McMansions are built
There is an idea deep inside those of us who see the writing on the wall
Those of us not deluded by the myth of progress
The arc of history is long and it bends ever towards that day when Nature finally conquer the last human endeavor to subjugate it
And on that day we will stand tall and strong and proud because all that was done was done with our hands and the work we did we could truly call honest and good
Just like those who came before us long long ago
And God will see it
And He will see it is good
Nov 2, 2019
Nov 2, 2019 at 11:43 PM UTC
The First World War destroyed anything beautiful that existed within the human spirit
You cannot simply walk away from industrial mass slaughter unaltered
You cannot hide it behind decades later mass slaughters of equal importance
You cannot hide behind getting excited for next mass slaughter
WW1 may have been the force that killed anyone’s feelings of honor or bravery in war
And that’s almost as great a tragedy as all the bloodlines severed
War and violence and conflict will always be with us
It is deep within all animal DNA and no matter how many daisies are put into the barrels of rifles you will never escape it
There is a great tragedy to violence but at times there is a beauty and there is a necessity
When the Soviet forces finally breached the walls of the Führerbunker
Don’t you think they were smiling?
Reality is never black and white
It is shades of tragedy, shame, beauty, and glory
It may be seen as “Eurocentric” of me, among other things, to carry WW1 with this weight
It was not a purely European conflict of course, but the main theater was
Besides, I am descended from Europeans, and some nights when all is silent I wonder if I can hear my ancestors weeping
Or are they screaming?
We as a species have allowed our greatest inheritance to be squandered
Pure wild nature
We have sold it for same Starbucks coffee shop in every college town, Kroger, and corner of New York City
We sold the forests for New York City
Are some sins unforgivable?
In the place of the old growths we build buildings of subjective beauty
Subjective beauty always bows to objective beauty
Yes, there is objective beauty
Buildings that are built in the Brutalist style are subjectively beautiful
Forests, undeveloped fields of flowers, the rushing flow of a river
THESE ARE THINGS OF OBJECTIVE BEAUTY
To argue otherwise makes you a liar or a coward
Unironic nihilists have none of my respect
They simply do not deserve it
If you want to be taken seriously find something greater than yourself
Something outside yourself
Something that came before you, exists above you, and will be there long after you are not
That’s why I chose God and Nature
Some see these as interchangeable
I do not but I’m not here to split hairs
The problem with modern society is we have become ironic nihilists, which is almost as bad
Everything becomes chalked up to subjectivity
We crack jokes about how it’s all meaningless and eventually down the line we believe it
This is a pathetic cope
The meaning of our lives, like the objectively beauty of nature, has been bought or stolen
You were not born to consume product
You were not born to work and make things of cheap plastic
You were not born to enjoy next superhero movie, twice a year, every year, until you die
To our ancestors our lives now must seem like decades long suicide pacts
I want out of this state of unliving
We were born to be physically strong
We were born to create things of beauty
We were born to meet hardships, embrace conflict, overcome them, conquer them become something superior to what you once were
YOU WERE BORN TO BE ALIVE
CREATE THE MEANING IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU HAVE TO
Just please
Don’t be a nihilist
I try to take my multivitamin and multi mineral vitamin every single morning
Maybe a fish oil pill or two throughout the day
I have become consumed with the idea of getting more sun on my skin
I have been consumed with the idea of improving my gut bacteria
I want to talk about these things without sounding like Patrick Bateman
To improve your inner flora it is recommended you replace processed and fried foods with sauerkraut, kimchi, yogurt, kefir, or something along those lines
I know sunshine and sauerkraut aren’t going to fix your depression or rid you of your years of trauma
But there’s no shame in trying
On Friday I bought a full 16oz jar of kimchi and proceeded to eat the entire thing in less than 24 hours
I will never apologize
I will never feel shame
I scream all of these things into a bathroom mirror when I am alone
I wrote this poem for myself
I wrote it for all of you
I want out of this soul crushing alienating techno industrial hellscape
I want the nightmare to end but I’m in too deep
If I melt down my cell phone, crash my car into an empty Wendy’s, and make it my moral and ethical duty to take down the power grid, I may get expelled from grad school
I might get arrested
I might just be forgotten
So for sake of legality I cannot endorse looking up how a cheap bandsaw can cut down a cell tower
I do no endorse bringing the technological nightmare to its knees for the good of all living things
I do not endorse arson, even when no one gets hurt
It’s a mean world out there
I only endorse breaking free
Any way you can
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 10:48 AM UTC
Our ancestors once believed that their gods lived at the tops of mountains
Unobtainable heights with metaphysical mystique
But like all esoteric secrets we’ve neutered them
Everest has become littered in tragedies
Testaments to our hubris
We need to learn again to respect those spiritual journeys
Made for the aristocrats of nothing more than the struggle
Re-learn to respect that struggle of step after step
Growing danger without the fear of a death that sits at sea level with arms outstretched ready to welcome you
These mountains were not made for all to experience their mystery
Not all are welcome to shake the hands of the gods of mythology
And that’s ok
But if you can do it
If you can slay the dragon like Sigurd
If you can sacrifice yourself to yourself like Óðinn
If you can reach that mountaintop
Tell me
How did you enjoy the view?
Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 9:00 PM UTC
This
Is
Ragnarok
The violent end of worlds you’re pagan ancestors feared
Watch as the strikes from Thor steal your comrades from you
No Valkyries to guide you
No Valhalla to welcome you
Ankle deep in mud and rats and **** you load your rifle begging the God you believe in that you won’t have to **** another man
How did you find yourself here?
An Englishman fighting Germans in France
Because a Serbian killed an Austrian in Bosnia
Or an Italian, 43 years after your country was unified
Or a Serbian, longing to free your countrymen from Austro-Hungarian oppression
Or maybe your a Russian, a Frenchman, a Turk
Hear the whistle blow
Now is your time to storm from the trenches into razor wire and the the hail of bullets
You will likely be slaughtered
Like the 40,000 French soldier during one week of the war
This is a tragedy
But this is also a holy experience
Like for T E Lawrence
Fighting for a cause he never thought he would believe in
Or Ernst Jünger
Surviving bullet after bullet
Endless bombardments
This is the heroes journey
Do not let your children’s children take away from your sacrifice
When they say you died for nothing
You believed in your nation and you believed in yourself
Do not let them take that away from you
You who returned home and were ignored if not simply forgotten
Who returned home missing limbs, missing homes, missing loved ones
You who were traumatized shell shocked
Who could not return home
Who returned to what was supposed to be home
But life went on without you
So you found those who fought with you
From your bonds you formed brotherhoods
Formed paramilitaries
But that all comes later
Right now you look death in the eyes and can’t help but laugh
Laugh to keep yourself from crying
Laugh because you have never felt more alive than in this moment and never will again
And in this moment you can’t help but cry out
AVANTI
ARDITI
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 10:14 PM UTC
There’s no blood droplets that drip from fingertips anymore
Those were childhood expectations played on car radio CD players
on highways to Charleston I vaguely remember
Now all that’s left is final dregs of beer and all the mead my ancestors can bestow upon me
Christ didn’t die for laying on ground ***** by the air conditioning unit
Except for the fact that He did
No ***** on the camouflage recite your Hail Mary’s and go inside
This is the new nation
It is growing inside this tired brain every moment
A greater ambition we can finally be proud of
Great lengths we have fought died bled now no more no more
This is the new path
Not above not below
No more deep Buddha Zen middle path
This is the true straight and narrow
Breathe deep in the fellowship männerbund
This is the path of action no more cowardice never again
We shall watch the city on the hill finally burn itself down the cycle closes Kali Yuga ends
And on that hill we will build a house to last until New Jerusalem heaven again Amen
We are awake now
Christ didn’t die for me to wreck my greater ambitions on empty promises or vacant supports
Except Christ died for all greater lesser transgressions
Rosaries in hands
Alleluia
Amen
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 12:06 AM UTC
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood”
It is written in the Hagakure
That when faced with situations
Of life and death
To choose death
For it is more honorable to do so and die
Than to choose life
Retreat
And then die all the same
Is this what it means to be bold?
To strike out
Against odds that seem impossible?
To stand strong and shout out the eternal phrase of
“I don’t give a ****
The one in the arena
The ultimate stoic
Uncompromising but not cruel
I must become a man of action
And though it is not the singular soul that drives history forward
Those who do so are not passive
Not timid
They do what must be done
Like Lenin
They are reasonable people
Even when pushed to do things that seem unreasonable at the time
This is how one must be bold
Taking hold of that great spirit that drives all great people of action
To be determined, strong, discipline,
More virtues to be explored
Legs strong as sequoias
I stand on stage in front of you
Reminding myself
And urging those of you who need to hear this
Stand in that arena
Do not choose retreat
Be bold
And leave your mark on the world around you
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 9:38 PM UTC
One of the only redeemable qualities
Of the mass transportation system know as the modern highway
Is occasionally I’ll catch a glimpse of a hawk on a light pole
Patiently standing watch for the next in a long history of casualties
A majority of these casualties are non-human and so acceptable as long as we all still get to work on time
And I still remember the hawk in the woods
Clutching a blue jay in its talons
Not far from where months later I’ll find the body of a deer
I stand and observe it for quite awhile
Half expecting it to get up and start walking again
There is a strange feeling you get when seeing the lifeless body of an animal that large
Almost as if you are being entrusted with a secret
Between me and he trees and the flies that buzz around it’s head
Every time I pass the body now I leave a stone as a sign of respect
A silly thing to do maybe
But I’d hope people would do the same for me after I’m 6 feet under
And the question always arises in my mind if I will ever live a life
That matches the freedom that deer experienced until it met its end
These are not topics to dwell on too often or for two long
Something this existential is best left for the coffeehouse crowds
whether you choose to join them or not
Instead I think I’m more jealous of the community of the pack,
the group,
not a mindless collective blindly following the one next to them but the conscious collective
How together they are stronger
Maybe I’ll bring back the way of the warrior poet
Enlightened, but without the boastfulness
Strong, but without need to prove it
But maybe for now,
I’ll just keep an eye out for any hawks by the highway
And the deer hidden deep beneath the trees
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 7:16 PM UTC
I saw the best minds of my generation
Brutally isolated from those around them
Surrounded by series of boxes
Some meant to relay
Some meant to contain
All passively made to control
And past all of these boxes we can see
The place where the grass is greener
Where the trees are taller and stronger
Where the animals live
We call that place wilderness
Some say we used to call it home
Some others say that when we did
Life was nasty
Brutish
Short
Well
Many of these days I would prefer that to
Long
Meaningless
Alienated
But it really depends on ones perspective
See the problem with Civilization is that somewhere down the line someone has to take the full force of the trauma
Whether that’s indigenous people
Robbed of their land
Forced to work in Rare Earth Mineral mines
Or sweatshop factories in foreign countries
Or Facebook content moderators in Arizona
Forced to be subjected to violent murders and graphic ***********
Their bathroom breaks are monitored
They are ordered to stop praying if it takes too long
All so your racist uncle can share news articles from PatriotPress.com
And people who haven’t interacted with you in years can wish you a happy birthday
This is the price we pay for our convenience
This is the passive acceptance that our comfort is more valuable than their lives
I heard that the first megamachine was made with human parts
Now we witness that machine cannibalize itself
What is the alternative to this concrete techno-Hell?
I hope that one day we cast off this Leviathan whose tentacles wrap around our necks
To live a life of lower standards but higher meanings and ambitions
To live simply
With nature and not at its expense
It’s not a past to return to
But a future we fight for
Where the grass will be greener
But only because
We let it grow
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 8:32 AM UTC
I first saw you as
Old grey beard desert mountain man
Smoking a cigar
You called yourself an anarchist
A democrat with a small d
I dig that
You talked of the importance of the wild
The nature that’s out there somewhere on the edge of the madness we are all stuck with in the day to day drudgery we call “modern living”
You were well spoken and funny, and while I didn’t agree with everything you said, I felt I could go along with most of it
So then I, as fellow lover of nature and person without much else to do, dug deeper
You talked about fire watch towers, Arizona redneck bars, Nietzsche, Einstein, and watching the birds
You talked about sabotaging bulldozers and wanting to reach out and touch the mountain lion
You talked a lot about freedom too
How each person should be their own leader
And no one should be a boss
And about how whatever great expanse of wilderness, or wildness, we have left is the last refuges of our freedom
The freedom to be that very thing we crave more death, to be wild
To feel alive
We only crave death now because we never feel truly alive
Grinded down in alienated ******** “jobs”
Promise of nothing more than light pollution noise pollution and the regular plain old pollutions of modernity
We search for some kind of meaning
And the struggle to survive with our own two hands has always been the most meaningful action of the human spirit
So we need this wilderness to **** off and get lost in
To breath in deep and trip and fall and get a little *****
We need that wilderness for us to go postal in, however you take that to mean
And finally we need this wilderness because we are this wilderness
It’s in our bones and in our blood
Oh Ed, you and I aren’t alone in this call to the wild
Ask Fredy Perlman about the freedom of the insect and the bird
Ask Kevin Tucker what he thinks of predicide
Whether it’s shooting wolves from helicopters or poisoning carcasses with stric9 so coyotes die when they eat it
We defend coyotes here
And as a good Christian boy I believe that anyone who kills a wolf, except in self defense, should go to Hell
And maybe one day
I’ll go off into your Arizona deserts
Or Chris McCandless’s Alaskan expanse
And maybe I’ll live and maybe I’ll die
But I will be home
I will be free
And I will be thinking of you, Edward Abbey
“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.”
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
“The tame, the domesticated, try to monopolize the word freedom; they'd like to apply it to their own condition. They apply the word "wild" to the free.” -Fredy Perlman
This is my appeal to Heaven
I was not made
For this
I was made for a little a-frame house in the forest
Using as little electricity as I can manage
I would build fires and send prayers to ancestors that were never mine
But I send prayers to them anyway
Because I don’t know if their children will do the same
I dream of a world that lies on the cusp of tomorrow and yesterday
Where all we have learned can come together with how we were meant to live
We exchanged that world for a lie we live in everyday
A lie that tells us what we are and what is nature are separate
A lie that has allowed us to continue tearing down all the things around us leaving us 12 years until all that we built begins to crumble
The Greeks wrote tragedies where people were punished for their hubris
How will our tragedy play out?
This is my appeal to Heaven
I was not made
For this
I begun exercising because I was inspired by those who came before me
Those who could throw spears hard enough to pierce animal hides
Or could pull back the entire draw of a bow
I hope for a simpler life where all the people I care for are within a short walk
I hope for things made by hand
I want to know how the gnats dance
I want to love the ways the winds move the trees
And I want to know the secrets of the birds and the forest creatures
This is my appeal to Heaven
I want to live wild
I want to be free
“Why this cult of wilderness?
Because we like the taste of freedom
Because we like the smell of danger” -Edward Abbey
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC