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Kagey Sage Jan 29
I sense loss and yearning all around
I used to chalk it up as a personal hurdle to jump
or just the feeling of aging while the youth still goes on
Yet I think I this malaise is widespread
Impacting all of us in our glitching global trade

I used to think the issue was there’s just too much now
Too much to watch, listen, and taste
You don’t need the hunt anymore
Don’t need to wait or pay some exorbitant price
I used to feel overstimulated by the streams
and just could not decide
I still feel, it’s not that we want to do the thing,
but we yearn to want to want to do the thing

Is that all that’s changed?
Those who are not ready to be creators
will certainly not be ready to be curators
Freed ourselves from DJs and TV programming
but what control have we flailed ourselves into?
Wasting hours a day watching 30 second videos
whose categories are heavily curated
impersonally, just for you
Remember when user preferences worked
and in searches they wouldn’t hide the whole list
of all that was relevant and new?
Kagey Sage Jan 24
I’m shirtless after
getting too hot in the best kitchen stool spot
It’s where the dog will leave me alone for a sec
It’s a weird winter
every year now, but they say the Great Lakes are
the best place to ride climate change out
It’s been too cold, now it’s getting too hot for this time of year
so the old Watkins Glen hoodie was too much
I almost ripped the front neck like an 80s girl
but I didn’t have the strength
If walks are still out of the question,
I better start doing physical comedy
around the house like Three's Company because
I said I was going to

We could have had it all
we still could
We reached peak performance
we almost reached Star Trek replicators
The whole world enjoying life saving advancements
over a hundred years
Only for it to decline for the first time
instead of just sabotaged into a slowdown like before
Those billionaires want to stay relevant
Even though they’re beyond useless
They’re a detriment to our democratic progress
just to preserve their status as economic royalists
who decry the decline of Victorian social deference

Remember Kurt Vonnegut talking about his school
in the era of almost proficient public funding?
He was excited to have a jazz band
Until these types of things were deemed unimportant
for those who may need them most

Now we have the technology to exceed the speed and competence
of the 80s, 90s, and aughts
but the the profit motive just gets stronger and more depersonalized
We’ll teach them to fish by killing them all
Hannah Jun 2022
here i, walk blind in
unseen sights,
aspired by my will,
to catch the shot in the dark
not dark as in morbid but,
dark as in unknown, unseen
for only, it could be
foreshadowed by some
i will be viewing the past
through the lessons
it has taught while i
keep on..writing,
painting every vivid dream
i have for my brain is
translucent, once i enter
the realm of softness
and dancing moon spirits.
Kagey Sage Jan 2022
Passing through mid-century
these jazz oneironauts reached Apollonian heights
while society drifted into Dionysian drunkenness
the merchants caught on too soon
The most beautiful parts of humanity
enamored to serve the ugliest:
The merchant class, the bourgeoisie
Buddha’s undeserving in charge
If only in past centuries
those noble princesses embraced
even more lowly patronages
all this potential today could be staved off
Saved from the drive to be commodified
People stopped buying jazz as it reached its height
No more smiles to appease the whites
Jazz for the few
the noble, the individual in the know

Until this too becomes the simulacrum
The Ornette Coleman on the bookshelf
to signify your snootiness
your refinement from wealth
Aging Dads in thousand dollar sweaters
kicking out their 22 year old kids
for being ****** addled hipsters
meanwhile Bird on Verve is nodding out
and Dad’s girlfriend pops a Percocet
to deal with all the stress
Kagey Sage Jan 2022
And you could have given us this and that
but you were in the throes of some spaz attack
Spiral down
your spires of blame
and you end up forgetting all the innocent
in their small existence
Influenced by their helixes
and culture, the temperature
and more than we can comprehend
Forgive yourself first and
you'll stop being such a ******* to all the rest
The malaise of the mayonnaise
Lives of all these unwitting folks
Kagey Sage Nov 2021
Learn to write again
learn to type right
first time in 3 decades of life

I want to write closer to when I think
speed time, to slow it
make it feel like I do more
like I was in my teens or early twenties
****, these days 3 go by and it feels like one

I count my blessings to build confidence
Life grows more cruel but
I might win if I act like already won
Chaos magick, nay we do not speak of it

You forgot to pretend
to suspend quests for rationality
No longer moved by a book or film
We conditioned to be unconditioned
only to realize we ought to been wistfully in the herd
the whole time  
We're the Bodhisattvas forestalling enlightenment
to get drunk with the butchers
after decades of sober high ground
We're the over-analyzers
lamenting our anachronisms in self-assuring
new philosophies
Either fully embrace one or drop out of being smart at all
the only tolerable choice to start to enjoy life again
No, no it's a false dichotomy
I want to be the eternal well-wisher
no matter the decadent displays

The shared dream of a soon to be future
We scavenge and defend
through pockmarked streets
make shelters amid crumbling concrete
We forgot how to imagine a secure society
Measured expectations and social safety nets
they took it all away along with our balanced serotonin
I used to get all jazzed up over a library book
but now the images promise us much more bliss
right around the corner

But it never soothes
never comes close  
We cannot buy the contentment you claimed to offer
so we'll get it in collapse
We'll be sniped, starved, and deranged
but the thought of that life
makes us whisper excitedly to ourselves
"finally something has happened to me."

I, the eternal well-wisher
will wag no more fingers at preachers of death
Neither will I become them nor pity them
Kagey Sage Nov 2021
The hadron collider showed an unknown influence affecting subatomic particles.

“Is this proof of a higher power in the universe?” asked Marianne Williamson.

“Is this Will, is this magick?”

Yes Herr Nietzche, there will always be unknowns in human science as the scientists should have known all along, instead of substituting the most recent names of observations as the replacement of God.

No, there probably isn’t free will but we seem to be life in the unknown with more power than any other around.

This universe may just repeat on and on but what do you do with that knowledge? Can you even help to choose what you choose?

All these past influences and instinctual impulses lead the charge. But there's that spark. That mystery if we can ever really know and comprehend it all with limited senses, time, and minds.

Maybe you don’t have a choice in your life, but you can have the feeling you do. The feeling you can shape your world amid the destiny you feel in your heart.

Practice being a yeasayer to life because that just might be your fate.
Amor fati each time around.
David Plantinga Nov 2021
The boy-king wanted to incinerate
A fell and meretricious thryrus.  
His grandfather would venerate
The same staff, terrified of curses.  
His mother’d slandered the drunk god,
But regretting feckless blasphemy
She counseled them to spare the rod,
Until they heard the divine decree.  
Once the summoned prophet had appeared,  
Blind, and clad in a frayed, goatskin cloak,  
The monarch sputtered “It’s cursed, weird,
And wrong, burn it down to ash and smoke!”
The former monarch begged, “Appease
Bromius with primeval rite,  
A lord who smites his enemies
A lord too terrible to fight.”
The daughter next, “His worshipers
Run mad, and slaughter their own kin,
Even children.   The god massacres
Those who dispute his origin”
The prophet lifted up the staff
And tore the ivy from its tip.  
“Rites, massacres, don’t make me laugh,
And immolation’s sponsorship.”
He swung the staff to test its heft,
And said, “I need a walking stick,  
The drunkard has no bacchics left,
****** the goatish lunatic.”
At this, the grandfather turned pale,
And the repentant mother winced.  
Matched severity cannot avail
If fear and butchery convinced.  
A proverb soothes the quondam king
And the dowager, “He frightens you,  
But moderation in each thing,
And that in moderation too.”
From Euripides' The Bacchae
The birds the bees the trees, to the streams the rivers ocean or the seas,
They dont threaten me, I listen to them talk rapidly and also wildly,
They despise the wickedness of humanity, because every thing is money,
Money and more money, the taste of a golden nugget, you can't even get with,
Dipping sauce, look at the humans, running around forever loss,
Claiming they love God, and his creatures, but dont even love themselves,
Can't even eat right, over doped and slipping through the ropes, of fragile hope,
But I ignore the peasant, sounds of vehicle horns, people bustling and hustling,
To get to a place, of nowhere nowhere,
And once they get there, theyll just stare,
Like looking down into a dark alley, and drawing the deepest pessimism,
But it's only what is driven, that becomes lively, this doesn't require an Ivy, league
Diagnosis no, it requires your eyes your soul, and grazing thru the unseen peephole,
I've been to that side, where lots of people, would dare to hide,
The visions, of Rod Serling, truth is a menace and logic is a bully, but here me,
Out this isn't a rant about, anything of normality, I'm just showing you the brutality,
Of humanity, that we dont quite see or study, in that fact, see we are passioned by pain,
And prisoners to the most vane, acts upon mankind since we've crawled out the slime,
There are no exits and no there is no entry, there's only here,  and here we only have this one life,
To cherish, to make the most impact out of, people who we dont know, we've impacted,
Funny how, when you're dead, they all come around bearing you the finest gifts,
comforts of love, joy and passion,
To saying delightful, things about you,
But only when you're alive, they seem nowhere to be found, no gifts no love no joy  to trace around,
I find it very interesting, as I dig deeper into the abyss, of my mind, that we are tasted,
By the flavors of death, it's a like a scent we can't ignore, to the very core,
They may take this as *******, but it's nearly the first stage of wisdom,
Observance, and what I see is a failing society, when the bees disappear so will humanity, said by the great Einstein,
Einstein was considered a slow, crazy, low level human during his times,
Now a few decades later he's deemed a genius, an unsung hero, quite like Mr Tesla,
And many others just, too many too name, then they are enriched with the spiritual tag,
God compelled in you, as if it's a precious medal pinned by some war hungry General,
For fulfilling death, to other countries and the same country you serve in,
Will throw you behind bars in, if you spread blood shed on theirs, funny isn't it,
I've had many dangerous dreams, some vivid some violent some I can't even think to remember,
But all in all they couldn't hurt me,
Because my soul was too strong, the light couldn't be dimmed, or trimmed
By the perpetual darkness, that loves to lurk like a great serpent, awaiting its meal, and strikes its prey, as in pray..
So take a quick gander, through uncomfortable scopic, and you'll see a slight, reality check of a Philospic,
Francie Lynch Apr 2021
Nietzsche postulated His death.
tRump proved it.
But gods are known to resurrect.
"God is Dead"
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