#disclosure
#(Spinoza, in the Quiet of His Work)
There is a clarity that can only be born in solitude..
the kind that comes from slow, exacting movements
of a man bent over imperfect glass,
turning opacity into vision with nothing but pressure, patience,
and the discipline to remove what does not belong
Spinoza understood this.
Each sweep of the grinding wheel was a confession;
each rotation, a prayer he never spoke aloud.
Refinement was his reverence--
a steady surrender to the truth
that light is always waiting.
He breathes in the dust of his own devotion,
each breath costing him days he will never reclaim.
Yet he knows clarity is expensive,
and still he pays without complaint.
Every rotation of the lens is a prayer.
Every fine-grained circle of motion
a small resurrection of what is real.
Ground once- still cloudy.
Twice.. still difficult.
Again and again;
until the glass begins to confess
what it has always held.
In this craft nothing is rushed.
Truth asks for patience,
reality for precision.
The grinder knows
that nothing revealed by force can remain.
So he gives himself wholly
to shaping light into a form the eye can trust.
But elsewhere, another movement unfolds..
not a person, but a psychology.
Not a face, but a stance of the soul.
Some rooms thrive on spectacle..
the loud fogging of the surface
to keep a certain shimmer alive,
to make the glass more dramatic than transparent.
Here, opaqueness is cultivated.
Not because truth is feared,
but because clarity threatens the architecture
of the illusions required for survival.
In that dimmer workshop,
glass is never ground.. only breathed upon,
smudged until blurred.
The blur is mistaken for depth,
the haze for mystery,
the distortion, for meaning.
This movement does not seek God
because its survival depends
on never encountering anything absolute.
Clarity is too revealing.
Too **********
Too honest.
Better to keep the lens smudged
than surrender the illusions
that keep the self stitched together.
Better to let the world remain indistinct
than risk seeing what is truly there..
or what is not.
But Spinoza’s craft is a different vow.
He bends over the glass
as though the Divine were hiding
in every grain he removes.
And perhaps it is.
For with each pass of the wheel,
light gathers itself more clearly.
Contours sharpen
Edges awaken
Reality remembers its own name.
God appears not as a theory
but as clarity itself;
not imposed, but revealed
through the removal of everything
obscured..
all that is opague.
...
The grinder dies young.
His lungs fill with the very dust
he spent his life shaping away.
But the lenses remain.
People he never met
see, through his work
and find distances suddenly honest,
horizons suddenly true.
His clarity outlives him.
There will always be two movements:
One that grinds toward God
through patient removal of illusion.
One that fogs the glass
to preserve the comfort of distortion.
One sacrifices itself
to make sight possible.
The other performs distortion
to keep truth at bay.
But in the end, only one transforms the world
as it lets light pass through, unaltered.
Only one leads the wandering heart back
to the God it thought had disappeared.
And it comes from a small, coughing man
alone in a dim room;
bent over a lens
that becomes clearer each day;
because he refused to stop
until it revealed the truth.
#
Nov 17, 2025
Nov 17, 2025 at 9:26 PM UTC
On your last day,
at your leaving speech
you let your real self show
(just a little)
and then I saw you
stop yourself
just before you got interesting.
Feb 13, 2023
Feb 13, 2023 at 5:59 AM UTC
On July 18th 2021
A dark triangle will cover our sun.
The populace will cower
The populace will shriek
And buy enough loo roll to last them the week.
"We knew they were coming" says President Biden
"They broke out of Roswell where we were trying to hide em
They're all very friendly
If a little bit grey
And they've something important they've come here to say"
"PEOPLE OF EARTH" the craft started to belt
"YOUR PLANET IS BOILING. YOU ARE GOING TO MELT.
STOP WITH THE AIR CON
STOP WITH THE PLASTIC
OR WE'LL HAVE TO STEP IN AND DO SOMETHING DRASTIC"
Over the Earth fell a global stunned hush
Until to the front a human started to push
"But all that takes effort
We won't care when we're dead.
We want to watch Netflix and eat ***** instead."
The space craft glimmered, shook and was gone,
The earth was left wondering quite what had gone on,
Nobody cared and noone claimed fault,
But they'd emptied the oceans and just left us with salt.
Far up in space in a tank swimming free
Their Octopus Gods were splashing with glee.
Revenge for pollution and calamari.
Jun 23, 2021
Jun 23, 2021 at 4:11 PM UTC
My poetry are not of
Literary greatness
They are
Not to ponder
Not to memorize
May be
Even
Not to read twice
They are
To touch
To smell
To taste
To feel
So that
One can find
The real essence
Effortless
Nov 7, 2020
Nov 7, 2020 at 5:25 AM UTC
beneath the
violet skies
headache
headily
headlong
heading
to you
–as if it was today–
do not say
a word
again
never
disclosure.
as the first sight
disclose yourself
to me
you were my night
and now
testimonying the sun
somewhere else
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 4:57 PM UTC
Confession theory 1 : I'm afraid I've fallen in love with a boy who doesn't reciprocate.
Confession theory 2: I'm afraid I've fallen in love with a boy who doesn't even realize he's fallen too.
Confession theory 3 : I’m terrified that I’ve fallen in love with a boy who never got over his first
Confession theory 4 : I can't differentiate left from right or up from down, I'm afraid I've gone completely mad.
Confession theory 5: This has been just all a mess in my head, I guess.
Confession 6: I've fallen in love with you so deeply, so deeply I'm afraid
You see, I'm afraid it's only me
So are you,
Falling for me too?
Or is it true,
I'm just not the one for you?
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 11:24 PM UTC
As brave as my poems.
As simple and stark,
concise and complete,
in whole or in part,
yet with room for expansion,
letting you, as you read,
add truth to the equation
with the values you need,
giving permission to speak,
in the space in your head
and to complete the connection
or just take it as read.
Oh, to be as brave as my poems.
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 3:56 AM UTC
I love, my D-U-T-Y
When, I saw Y-O-U
I C-H-A-N-G-E-D, my duty.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 10:14 AM UTC
I must beg your forgiveness up front for this verse.
I don't want to be ****** or rude or perverse,
but all over the world, things are going oh so wrong,
and it's due, in large part, to the President's ****
Some leaders have brains and they lead with their mind.
Some lead from the heart and are thoughtful and kind.
But President Trump, he shall reign and shall rule.
Being led from below by his shriveled old tool.
You can tell by the way that Trump likes to abuse
women like they are objects to conquer and use.
Trump surely likes weapons, strongmen and dictators.
Trump labels all challengers liars and haters.
It is this sort of strutting, denial and attacking
that comes from a man who is seriously lacking
in confidence and a true manly demeanor,
and to compensate, Trump is obsessed with his wiener!
Now, I don't want to ridicule, criticize, heckle
the importance and worth of every man's schmekel,
but it's rather perverse and off base and quite sick,
when you turn off your brain and just follow your ****
It just makes Trump so subject to manipulations
when he's flattered and aided by unfriendly nations.
Through his payoffs to hide his betrayals and ******
Trump's Johnson has led him to such Stormy seas!
When he calls out Bill Clinton for his cheating ways,
the hypocrisy never shall cease to amaze!
All the cover-ups prove him a liar and a fake -
A pathetic, small slave to his small trouser snake.
Now I hope in your heart some forgiveness you'll find
for me planting these images into your mind.
And let us all hope that it will not be long
'til the world's ruled no more by the President's ****
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 7:24 PM UTC
Don Junior had a meeting with
Natalia Veselnitskaya
and he did not disclose this fact
or say what did transpire.
Paul and Jared were there too
but "nothing was discussed".
Don said the meeting ended
and turned out to be a bust.
The New York Times found out
and asked why Don did not report.
"But nothing happened" Junior claimed
when making his retort.
Then under pressure from the press
some emails he set free,
confirming Russian interest in
a Trump presidency.
His daddy claimed, "He's a good boy"
"He's new, green and naive".
But Manafort - He should have known
(one would like to believe).
But Junior's new transparency
turned out to be untrue...
It seems that a fifth person was
there in the meeting too!
A former Soviet officer
named Rinat Akhmetshin
was also at the meeting...
so why was he brought in?
And then we soon learned of a sixth...
a seventh... and then eight!
Tied to the oligarchs and
Russian governmental state.
What was the meeting all about?
Perhaps there's nothing to surmise.
The secrecy though, would suggest
it might be otherwise.
Don Junior had a meeting
that nobody disclosed.
Let's hope this helps fulfill the dream...
to see his dad deposed!
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
It's called disclosure
Two negatives
I am opening
I am no longer closing myself
To me
Disclosure
Fighting and falling
Tredding only realize
I am merely moving my limbs
Fiercely under water
As I sink farther down
Deeper into the unknown
My last breath a memory
Attempting to keep each one
As they weigh my down
Yet I am stubborn
I am still
Closed
Crying inside
All the time
So much to hold onto
So much I choose to hide
Tears spilleing out my eyes
Escaping my inner pain
Becoming one with the water surrounding me
Drowning me
I am one negative deep
All I have to do is pick up the phone
Show up
And make it two
Open
I know what's what I need to do
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 8:28 AM UTC