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Alex Fontaine Nov 2020
I see so many people,
Who carry their dread,
Like concrete umbrellas,
Up over their heads.

No time for sunlight-
Preparing for rain.
Ready to fight-
But not to feel pain.

All wrapped up in themselves,
Discontent with their lives,
Like they’re owed something else,
Than a good day to die.

Awareness floats on an eternal sea,
A glittering instant of consciousness ,
Vibrating between unrealities,
On a firmament of impermanence.

For no reason deciding to spring up from the ground,
As we careen through an exploding universe.
We spend our time trying to tear each other down,
The hue of our flesh sacks determining what we’re worth.

The earth is our mother and my ancestors are there,
I’m not scared to die as I was born- screaming and naked-
To love life as a moth loves fire is to live a prayer;
I am terrified of the moment being wasted.

Hope and freedom are not found
Behind the illusion of truth.
Look to Prometheus bound-
Who cares little to nothing for Zeus.
“A fool thinks he will live forever if only he can avoid a fight, but old age will bring him no peace, even if weapons do.” Havamal 16

My favorite account of the Prometheus legend is one told by Joseph Campbell in which the chained titan is given a chance to be released if only he apologizes to Zeus. Prometheus looks up at the messenger and says “I care little to nothing for Zeus. Let him do as he likes.” The universe is literally ripping itself apart, relentlessly expanding until it reaches a point where it will spring back on itself and relentlessly contract back into plasma before exploding out again into a new cosmos of stars and planets and creatures who worry about things like taxes and hair color. (As far as we know anyhow.) Not only will everything we think is important be destroyed beyond a trace, even our concepts of permanence and value have no place outside of the limited context of our own time and space.

The key to finding enjoyment in a life which is ultimately devoid of inherent meaning is to focus rather on the mechanism used to determine meaning itself- this strange, dubious gift of self awareness, this X factor that makes us cry at sunsets and be kind to each other, that leads us to ask questions and paint paintings and write poetry.

We need to learn to follow the example of Prometheus and determine our own value rather than accept our subservience to the machinations of power.

The worst thing that will ever happen to you is going to happen. The best thing that will ever happen to you will also happen. You can control neither.

I used to think optimists were simple minded or had just not suffered very much yet for some reason, but it’s only since life has really kicked the **** out of me a couple times that I can truly say I’m an optimist. I’ve learned to trust my ability to heal rather than my ability to avoid pain.
Having made a conscious decision to participate in life, don’t shy away from the painful parts. You don’t walk into a boxing ring and not expect to get hit in the face a couple times.

So **** it up, buttercup. Smell the roses, fight for freedom, make this lonely ruthless life **** a little less for someone else, or do whatever makes you smile sometimes while you can. Whatever you do, don’t spend your life trying to save yourself because you’re *******. Like the brave Lakota warriors said before charging into battle against overwhelming odds-
“It is a good day to die.”
Alex Fontaine Oct 2020
We crowd into a darkness of neon and strobe lights, sweating grasping thrusting jumping,
Deafened; ears by bass and spirits by alcohol
As of a single mind, like the maggot, we wriggle and crawl  blindly back to the darkness from whence we came-

But I dream

Of not seeing you

In a faraway forest,
Touched and untouchable,
Naked and triumphant,
Wild and free.


In a sunbeam

A shaft of light
Penetrating the throbbing verdant green canopy,
Shining brighter for the privilege of caressing your cheek
As the wind plays with your hair,
And the earth trembles under your toes,
Eyes bright, soul soaring,
Enraptured by the music of the wild god of the world,
Ears filled with laughter at the very notion

That you could ever be anything less

Than a goddess
Alex Fontaine Feb 2019
Colossal arms catch the radiant sun,
Giants rooted in tree shrouded hills,
I smile at them till my workday is done,
Sun soaring above as we pay the bills,
Pompously colossal and full of drive,
I look up at them looking down at me,
Laboring away beneath resplendent skies,
With the spirit of Jesus and Don Quixote,
We sally forth into the teeth of fate,
Wielding noble visions of how life should be,
No effort too small nor sacrifice too great,
Not to impale self to self upon Odins tree.
And the hills turn to dust, dust turns to earth,
The void collapses, the sun burns away,
And I’m left to question what our needs are worth,
Smiling at windmills till the end of the day.
Alex Fontaine Nov 2018
Above frozen hills and icy forest,
Finding definition through separation,
A dark island in a white sky,  
Coming closer.

The eyes first- burning beads of life,
Searching for death and opportunity,
Blazing terrifying focus,
Coming closer.

The sound next- quiet rush of primaries,
Hiss of bone and feather slicing frozen air,
Whisper of the wolds wild goddess,
A knife blade.

Cutting holy air like I cut myself,
Soul slicing distinctions and definitions,
Of happiness and loneliness,
And he leaves me,
Lately I’ve been thinking that the more a person separates their body from their mind, the more dependent they become  on society to tell them who they are. The raven suffers from no such illusion of separation between body, mind, and soul., and is enough in itself.

“A man is happy if he finds praise and friendship within himself. You can never be sure of where you stand in someone else’s heart.”  -Havamal 8
Alex Fontaine Apr 2018
I feel
Like a square hat
Well defined edges
Sharp corners
Everything a hat should be
Except worn
Alex Fontaine Sep 2017
If you cannot place your ear to the earth and hear its quiet hum,
Or watch the seasons change like the beating of a drum,
Or feel your spirit seeping like mycellium into the universe,
How can you place judgement upon the intensity of my experience?

Your plastic entanglements could not withstand the brutal inciciveness of my pesonality,
Which you so desperately need me to change,
Clawing as you plunge into the abyss,
Firmly bound to the social edifice.

I am sorry for your pain but this is not my knife,
I cannot heal what is not broken.
I will apologize for my life,
When you make amends for your sin.
Alex Fontaine Sep 2017
"Oh yeah? Did you **** anybody?"

Is what people ask when they see
smeared across my past
like a bloodstains on a white sheet
US Marine

And they cant understand the answer
because they cant understand the question

“I really think you got that guy man!
We should radio back and get you
a confirmed ****!”

“Im pretty sure I shot that guy in the back.”

"******* Miller and Johnson are dead."

And I never knew what to say to my friends
Because I was busy doing mental math
Emotional equations
In their eyes

How many more times they could be blown up
Before they were unreliable

Divide the fear with rage
Because you had a job to do
Someone had to get in the truck
And push the fragile blindfolded bodies back
With his boot so he could sit down
below the armor
away from the snipers

And one of them was shaking
it was cold
And his cowering skinny teenage body shook
It was like mine had been not long ago
For the whole convoy
three hours

And I carry these memories in the same tissues as the ones
that carry my sleeping infant son
nuzzled against my chest
under a blanket

Some of us let them spill out of our veins
Onto bathroom floors
In ditches and alleys
car wrecks

Any good devildog prefers the screams of the dying
to the screams of the living.

And the math keeps coming out negative
When I equate the cost of our
cell phones candy wrappers
vibrators golf courses

And I subtract the dark areas of my mind
From what can be filled with love
And am still at war.
Please be nice to me.
This took a long time to write.
The quotes here are actual quotes, the stories actual stories.
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