#sisyphus
We are the only animals who die twice-
once when the life ends
once in the panic that it meant nothing.
The second death is the expensive one.
Seminars. Retreats. Spiritual shops
A man in linen who has aligned his chakras with your credit card.
What is the purpose of a chair ?
The chair did not volunteer.
It was a tree once - indifferent, magnificent,
Soaking blissfully in the rain.
No destiny. No calling.
Just lively woods
and the slow romance with soil and light.
Then came the man with an axe ..
And the audacity of purpose.
You will hold our tired weight and be grateful for the meaning.
The fish has no ambition to garnish your plate.
It was busy being a fish,
a flickering soul in the deep,
complete in itself, requiring no narrative.
The river does not dream of turbines.
To light your lamps or
Charge your car.
It simply flows.
Gods punished sisyphus,
with eternal, futile labor -
rolling a boulder up a hill
only for it to roll back down
It was his assigned purpose.
I tell Sisyphus, “put the boulder down”
Not because the gods command it.
Not because a podcast asked to manifest the climb.
Put it down because it is heavy
and you are tired
And that is reason enough
the only kind of reason that was ever real.
Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 7:42 PM UTC
I've tried - so many times,
so many countless times,
so many relentless times.
. . . to become nothing.
My first step is always
my next. The last.
My resolve is stripped
by the cold, waking light
of morning. frozen morning iris,
scourging courage. and my courage -
becomes something of a
charcoal. Black, brittle, burning
in my heart - where my failure
runs.
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 2:43 AM UTC
sometimes
i promise, it is only sometimes
i would like to be in pain
and not the kind
where it's tearing at your skin
or the steady thrum of a headache
no, i need it to be loud
and sharp
as if there were jagged edges
worming their way into me
through me
burrowing into my lungs
so i hesitate to take a breath
even though it is essential
for my survival
a pain so desperate, so consuming
that i contemplate
giving in
no, i should call it what it is
giving up
i want it to leave hollow graves
shallow graves
in my bones
where the blood will pool
mixing in with whatever
anguish and despair
i have collected
i have lived with
stored within me
because i never knew
where else to keep it
i could never find another
empty house
and my pages were leaking ink
and so giving in to that pain
those jagged edges
is the only possible release
i can think of
the only justification
for abandoning the acceptance
of the absurd
the only way i will feel
past the futility of
sunken days and soulless eyes
Aug 10, 2025
Aug 10, 2025 at 6:28 PM UTC
A prisoner
of my own desire,
balancing
the slippery slope.
“This time I’ll be better”
I say -
Unknowing
of what lies ahead.
Weeks go by,
the urge returns.
I must do something fun,
something to numb the pain.
And now -
the snake eats its tail.
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
History moves in vicious circles,
Like vultures circling the dead,
Your path appears forward,
But the past is a thread.
Try as you might, try with all sight,
The path circles, dipping in swing,
Keep yourself close, the pieces tight,
The vultures come, their darkness to bring.
Run, for you are prey,
The light may call, but you’re the serenade,
Forge your paper path,
As one always does, in the shade.
But history moves in vicious circles,
And the vultures circle you,
Caught in the dance of fate,
In a relentless loop, forever true.
Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 6:46 AM UTC
sisyphus wished someone stopped him. delicate hands that held hard or hardened hands that held softly. stopping him - but that’s nightmare to him. so he wakes when the night strips naked and pushes the rock up again. he then races down hoping this time he is trampled, that his eternal love ends him.
he doesn’t make it before the rock.
again.
maybe next time,
i go down under you
**** me head first
with all of yourself
i will die into you
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 1:48 PM UTC
Uphill battles may be ahead,
but they are also behind us.
Do not follow Sisyphus’s footsteps.
Reach your goals and be complete.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 6:52 PM UTC
Human life moves fast
shows things, words, convinces
It shows things that are not created,
but about what is created in the heart
No healthy person will say
And even when life is sad
Don't lose hope, because it's very tedious anyway
Everything is falling apart
You're lying on the ground, you're in despair
Suddenly a ray of sunshine appears,
Drivetrain like in a sports car
Engine straight from the sky
It's coming back, and you want to change it, present it like a bestseller,
Put it on a distant shelf, away from light, eyes of the gaze
for old memories
And when you see yourself in the mirror after grayness and indifference... You bet something...
It's love, faith, hope
-Happiness at last, faith at last,
As if my punishment had passed, you thought
not seeing your reflection that you have already seen,
reflections from the mirror of childhood. It's faith
Not only old memories will remain
Jan 14, 2025
Jan 14, 2025 at 7:43 AM UTC
i feel like the weight of my world
is on my shoulders,
a self-inflicted
Atlas curse.
my actions
are coming back
to knock me down
and crush my resolve.
i'm so close.
so close to getting everything fixed.
and i push the boulder
up the hill as Sisyphus did.
but every time i near the zenith,
i make one small misstep,
and everything slips from my hands,
rolling me flat again.
mere assignments
feel like labours of Hercules,
impossible trials,
with the intent of divine punishment.
if i slay the Hydra,
will i pass english class?
Jan 9, 2025
Jan 9, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC
Is a boulder wedged
Betwixt thy chest
Bearing weight
Of moving – beyond
Dost thou push against
The peak of unrest
An unmoving
Sought to abscond
Accursed encumberment –
Zeus, come urgent!
Trade distant
For the fond
That feeling lost
To pebble tossed,
Skipped
Across shallow pond
Do you even care for
Did you ever – more –
Stop to think
Or consider at all
What precipitates –
The flood – the rain –
Is the same which
Prompted the roll
For I have no brake
So, to break – my fate –
Is what remains
To break my fall
Now all I hope for
Is coming – war –
To bleed me
Dry and dull
Passion – passed
Regiment – collapsed
Atop sword
Of your own recruit
And yet I stand
Hand in hand
With fallen
Soldiers – resolute
For I am leg-bound,
Surface-drowned,
By pit
Of fruitless pursuit
A victim still
To down-turned hill
And resolution
Most astute
The storm is done
But not the burden
That drums –
A thunderous applause
A wound that heals
Still yet conceals
Heart held
Together by gauze
Bless me – rid
Thine Sisyphus –
Of that stone-still
Chore you bore
Why must I carry
What once was merry
Now bruised,
Shattered and sore?
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 5:33 AM UTC
Ombudsmen mental role play
settling as difference does, across time,
toy whistles turn into notes that evoke tears.
We are the winners, we with eyes and ears that hear,
or minds that may imagine
doing
anything at all.
You know. No living thing desires death,
must I **** the mobs I help manifest,
must I un believe a lie?
Comfort the weak.
Pay the comforters well, as you would pay your father,
to do that work for you,
and your father will joyfully be
used that way.
Think.
Old people feeling useless,
while others feel
useless because they are
comfort objects in need of comforting.
Good news.
You can do this.
You can encourage me, I am weak, I need comfort,
and, and, and comforting me will comfort you.
I am poor and always with you.
I am as I am, I make a way for rich men to get
through the eye of a needle.
I sit upon the dragon horde, helpless, not hopeless
My kind of Adamkind, we keep hope alive,
we are with you always,
help us help you love yourself,
help us be happy, we will remain poor,
we can stand the weight of all that can be known,
poor ain't bad when enough's enough,
which,
truth be told, is true. Waves tuned perfectly never crash.
Light waves in light, see.
We simple love simplicity.
--- pretenders contending for the use me, use me,
put me in coach,
let me bat, coach,
let me preach, pastor, let me teach,
post initiate no
vitiated soul. lost it's breath in the race to the grave
woke up on a time when this story found iron feet
anchored in red clay claiming to making
all the rusty dust as that rock rolls this way,
can we imagine a happy ever after page that we all are on?
who asked?
weavenoname is a rule in this game. The riddle being:
who was that masked man? The answer being
wrong
again, I thought I already knew this
potentially perhaps, haps being the essence of any
state of happiness
while standing, scientifically
under knowing good and evil
understanding mistranslation, willful, then ignorant
sacred undefined undefines sacrifice, the act of sacred making,
As knowledge branches over time
and under ground to soil having life in time
for now to function, finally, for goodness sakes…
Ai t ia is blaming your cause on word effects…
leaving secrets to hint at for the knowing of the
landmarks our sapiens sapiens
megalithicus ancestors left
as weforms in full agreement
belearned to turn phi wise pi men t'al
time trix,
hell to learn,
hell to pay, watch t'al slow's
time tells a patient story stood
upon this very time,
at this very point,
post happyeverafter. My bubble,
my reality ified at my lief and leisure
expanded ever after and has yet to pop...
- reviewed six years later and called
- here, then and now, same person,
- six years more experienced, no wiser/
Jun 8, 2024
Jun 8, 2024 at 12:11 PM UTC
You want to drown yourself in the ocean but it’s
hard when you already know how to swim.
You don’t need the strength of an Olympian
to haul boulders to the top of the hill.
They roll back down anyway
and your shoulders
******* hurt.
Dec 19, 2023
Dec 19, 2023 at 8:58 AM UTC
19/08/2023
Hapless who strain,
voice and words for people,
hapless who drill
thinking it's lethal,
this folly encourages,
the ethos of silence,
on paper, counterfeit order stands,
while hastened thoughts simmer
in a cauldron of violence.
If I catch sight of you
with a pavulon vial,
I'll behead you for cheating,
engage, fight me,
draw the trenchant blade,
low profiled, distant, and shallow,
instead of laughter from the coffin.
Pull out your prosthetic faith,
before hissing Christ swallows
the descending heaven prospect.
Give me an authentic shoot-out,
where you bleed till death,
give me a duel,
light up a matchstick,
entourage with a
black powder keg.
On a formica table,
you roll the dice
if you lose,
whip yourself,
and one archangel dies.
If I lose,
tie a bangalore
around filthy neck,
and my words of nonsense
will meet a disgusted hail marrow crusade.
Where I challenged,
pleasingly conforming chains,
we'll answer who follows
a pale reflection of faith.
So pick up the glove
before it taints,
silence isn't priceless,
words foreshadow the pain,
one has to die
for the other's blemishes,
deception, venom, or vain.
Unholster courage,
gas me the rage,
ignite the fire,
matchstick awaits,
assume the form of a neophyte,
bare cognition flickers,
just hold my iron-branded hand,
till clash finds muffled eyes,
and clots reach one of our brains.
Just hold my hand,
the dice will turn into Pontius Pilate's
pointing finger, whose candle fades,
just hold my hand,
one ends up shrouded
in blasphemy cloak,
anointed pariah,
yet authentic instead.
Or end up like Sisyphus,
with a bespoken
boulder-like cross,
bland, spineless,
stripped of sense.
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 1:02 PM UTC
Sisyphus finally at rest
Finds himself restless
It is better to desire
Than to have.
Sep 13, 2023
Sep 13, 2023 at 3:04 PM UTC
In all my strength as a child
I was a pebble in someone else's shoe
and the boulder he rolled every day.
Nov 21, 2021
Nov 21, 2021 at 11:56 PM UTC
He pushed the weight of the world
To the top of the milky way
And he leaned, and he sighed
As the world rolled away
He put the globe on his shoulders
As he prepared to climb again
He shrugged and it shuddered
Spreading fear to little men
Igby! Igby, my boy!
I feel it coming down on me!
This pressure, this weight!
Why can I not be free?
Some weights are corporeal
Like the dumbbells at the barbell
Tabs overflowing, drinks and meals
These simple weights are easy to quell
Then there are the really heavy ones
The ones no eyes can see
The ones that drag us down to earth
That make it hard to flee
Our words and obligations
All form a lofty load
We are all carrying something
Along our personal roads
And our roads, they go forever
But, to where?
No one knows...
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC
The sunflower reaches up:
Tall and proud
Vainly striving to reach the sky:
A Sisyphean task.
For the wind batters;
Bruises as it nears.
Faces forced to bow.
Stems snapped like broken backs.
Nevertheless, they still believe.
Winter comes: a forced retreat.
Petals wither and fall.
Reduced, reused, recycled.
No longer of interest
To bees, birds and we
Who only see the first
Flush of beauty.
Returned unto the soil.
Sep 24, 2020
Sep 24, 2020 at 7:44 AM UTC
For every second step was erroneous,
I thought I'd reach a new height
of understa……….
Then I'd decline to a lower point
of where I was before.
Never gaining enough elevation to
see past the predicament I find myself
causally stepping forth upon..
Felling like Sisyphus, always trying to
gain a truth only to find out that a step
could make me fall more than before.
Only wanting to climb this ladder of life,
but deceit and snakes keep me from
gaining
ground...
Life is a ladder and some runs are always precarious,
do we step lightly, or do we tread upon the next to
only find that it was the broken one..
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 4:46 PM UTC
A low rumble in the distance
The ground trembles and turns
My knees betray me
The earth quakes
The rumble grows louder
A dust cloud draws near
A cacophony of hooves and heavy snorts
I blink, and they’re upon me
A stampede of hogs
Trampling me
Stamping me down
I contort
I cry out
I bleed
Mangled, through swollen eyes
I watch the mob reach the horizon
I’m left broken
Tattered, bruised
And coated in slime
I snap back to consciousness, and I’m sitting up in my bed.
That’s the third time tonight, I think to myself.
It’s dark, so I listen. A powerful snore echoes beside me.
My drooling, snot-faced daughter has snuck into my room again.
I wipe her excretions from my shoulder and scoop her up.
Navigating the dark, circumventing the tissue-laden floor,
Taking extra care not to startle the guinea pig this time,
I clean and cover her up, then gently kiss her forehead.
I linger and brush her hair aside. Snorting loudly, she turns.
With ballerina grace, I tiptoe over Barbie Dolls.
In the kitchen, the dishes overflow from the day before.
Cleaning till I’m exhausted, I ascend the stairs to my room.
A familiar rumble fills the hallway. The hooves crushing my ribs.
On my side of the bed, my daughter in a drool-filled, snotty puddle.
These dishes are getting done tonight, I think as I scoop her back up.
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 6:50 PM UTC
One must imagine Sisyphus ripped.
Shoulders like Boulders.
Quads like God's.
He was literally doing Olympian training!
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 6:21 PM UTC
No matter how much strength of yours is kept
It always comes back down to whom you know
For every time you think you are adept
The caws of meritocracy doth crow
Americans have dreamt in dreams of gold
High hopes upheld with promises of clout
By working hard there’s fortune to behold
Lest lack of means cause gatekeepers to doubt
Yes, push that rubble up the sacred hill
To watch it fall and tumble to the depths
For all eternity it is your will
To pay with sweat and blood for all your debts
Perhaps if only there were something more
To lifting destitution from the floor
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
My heart is a stone
Rolling slowly uphill
At an easy, steady pace
They say life's not a race
They say you're never alone
But it's all just useless, I know
Gravity grips hard with each step
This treacherous slope grows steep
And helpless, I sow what I've reaped
As I plummet back to the valley below
Pulled two directions by my heart beguiled
I climb, fall, climb, fall, climb and fall again
Still longing for you, for those days long gone
And still trying like hell to get past this, move on
My feeble heart forever stuck in this Sisyphean trial
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 1:03 AM UTC