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Logos matters not
in matters of Mythos:

For instance, some stuff about my birthday

My number is Twenty-Two.
Writ as two twos, 2(11), 2(5+6), 5(2)+4(3).
Of the 30 days of my birth month,
22/30 = 11/15 ≈ 0.7333 ad infinitum.

My month is Four.
2 to the second power,
defining a square;
the third positive square number.

My numerically symmetrical year,
which is evenly divisible by neither two nor three,
sums to 20 and multiplies to 81.
(1+9+9+1); (1)(9)(9)(1)
20=4(5); 81=9(9), 3(27)
Or, bisect the written year and add the sides within themselves
(1+9)(9+1)=(10)(10)=100.
Then, you can even add the three interpretations of the year:
81+20+100=201
201/3=67

I digress;

My sign is Taurus and thus my element is Earth.
Taurus is the second of twelve signs in western astrology.
In terms of Music,
I am an ascending minor Second above Ares,
one step up;
Scorpio is my Tritone
six steps up,
and Sagittarius is my perfect Fifth
seven steps,
where Leo is my minor Third, Virgo is major,
three and four steps up, respectively.
Pisces is my minor Seventh
at ten steps up or two down,
I have many Pisces in my life.
Bluesy.

As a Taurean,

My day is Venus,
my night is Moon, whereas
Mars can bring chaos.

This coming Monday,
I am to turn Twenty-Two;
on the day of Moon.

I am a Metal Goat by the Chinese Zodiac,
with Yin, the season of late-summer, and the element Fire.
The 8th sign; 2 cubed.
|-|-|--|-|--|--|-|--|-|-|
I do not feel that these things
predetermine anything in me or my life
but I do believe that these things
hold a certain power,
a sort of resonance
with me
and that is inspirational
and that is worth living for.

If one is keen enough to Mythos
then one can make anything relevant,
and one can draw a subjective lesson;
a sort of personal interpretation,
conducive and pertinent to one's self.

These things are not arbitrary;
they are a sort of time-stamp for life;
a frame of reference,
a milestone marker upon the path.

Of course, when I said "are"
I truly intended "could be seen as",
and from there "hardly ever to be taken literally";
Literal interpretations dwell within the realm of Logos:
(One can only describe so much, the rest is up to interpretation!)
--
Logos enters not
in matters of the Mythic,
yet they copulate.

Mythos is a realm
wholly separate from Logos
yet they interplay,

This dynamic play
in a mythicly tuned mind;
akin to wisdom.

Mythos and Logos
dancing cosmically onward
as if Yin and Yang.

To shun one and cling
zealously to the other
is tantamount to

fearing Death until
the day it's icy finger
points itself at you:

You miss out on all
the wondrous things in this life;
Enjoy here and now.
-
If you seek clarification on my definitions,
I shall be compiling a dictionary of my own conno- and denotations, with examples in context.

In the meantime and forever more, fear not to ask :D

Being born on April 22, I have the lingering trace of Aries; fire.
Graff1980 Jul 2015
They say we exist in rivers of fate
Predetermine pathways we are imprisoned in
Positions we were born for
And to disturb or ignore such strings
Would undermine the order of those things

I say we are free form individuals
With endless paths before and between us
That the reason they want to bind us to fate
Is because they want to blind us
To the weight of our own power
To makes us wait for divine intervention
Instead of having us pay attention
To our intentions and the intention of others

The wealthy and religious classes
Want to politically castrate men and women
Till we are to impotent with diffidence
Unable to make any sort of difference
But that framework doesn’t fit this
World that we seven billion strong have been gifted with
We have more power then we know
And it only grows when we explode
And show it to everyone else
Matthew Harlovic Mar 2016
Neither man nor machine,
these beings; being pipe dreams
were conceived by the silver screen.
Unseen by the naked eye,
they have taken you and I
by surprise like a tractor beam.
Neither the factor of genes nor factories
nor anthropological capacity.
These beings, being faculties of thought,
predetermine the preface of the plot.

© Matthew Harlovic
Morgan Young Nov 2013
the worst part of being an overanalyzing introvert is unintentionally ruining
every relationship
i have ever had.
i need to be alone to motivate myself.
being alone is how i create energy to take on another full day.
there's a lot of time in a day.
time i will never get back.
so i try my hardest thinking about how to make the best out of it,
which is kind of ironic,
because i'm laying in bed writing this.
wasting precious time.

when it comes to romantics,
there is always a huge price i must pay.
i will spend so much time debating
if you're worth my energy.
i will fight with myself over all of your pros
and your cons.
i'm not trying to push you away,
i'm trying to predetermine our relationship.
it's nothing against you.
i want to love you.
i really do.
but it takes me so much time to motivate myself,
i can't even fathom how i could double this minimal energy to propel someone else.
and the time i have spent trying to write this,
is time i'm wasting while you're sitting wondering what you are doing wrong.
and when i look up from this "poem."
you will already be gone.
and all i will have left.
is this.
some half-assed writing that will one day be dust.
just like you and i.
before i was even done writing it.
Don't Exist Nov 2015
Numbness coats my skin
it coats my eyes
my mouth, my brain, my legs
I can barely move
nor do i want to
dumbbells are on top of each shoulder blades
they hung down on my cheeks
they become the shirts I wear
my shoes...
my eyelids
Tired
I'm waiting to be set free from these chains
these awkward chains
and people stare at me
question why I put my head down in long silence
help me, no don't
I'll be okay
I let the dumbbells drag me to the ground
Let me add on its process
I don't want to be here no more
don't want to see the world around me
don't want to feel the touch of predetermine passions
there is nothing but numbness and weight
But what about the light?
who cares, I rather die
then wait
DC raw love Jan 2015
Destiny?
How does one know their destiny

Is it something we think or Dream
Is it a goal or a challenge

Or does our destiny change everyday

We always sometimes say,

This is my destiny,
to be poor
to be rich
to be famous
to be loved

Destiny?

We all reach our destiny

The inevitable or necessary fate
to which a particular person or thing is destined

A predetermined course of events
considered as something beyond human power or control

The power of thought to predetermine events

Your destiny is now

The past is gone
and the future is not here

Your destiny will change always
Sometimes it is impossible to predetermine
what it is that will be a good Idea by tomorrow;
in fact it is rare to have such powers of Forecast.

I do not call it Prediction;
for a Prediction is to "predefine", literally,
not to even give it a chance before you decide;
whereas a Forecast is a reasonable Estimate
based in Statistics, a realm of Mathematics.
A Science and an Art; Mythic Reasoning.

I will not deny the possibility of Prediction,
Prediction would indeed be a grand gift,
I simply forecast that it isn't very likely at all.
Lisa V Dec 2011
Their way:
Nothing final about it.
They will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Getting into a good school
Earning a good living
What would I do without a white collar job?
A fancy car?
A perfect life?

Mine:
I will write poetry while everyone is in a fury.
I will try, but I will not take it too seriously.
I believe in grades as much as unicorns.
Do I do well? sure, but I know something they don't
That life is more than numbers and dollar bills.
It cannot be boiled down to physics and chemistry
We might be governed by laws and rules
but I refuse to let them predetermine the rest of my life.
devante moore Dec 2014
I wake up just before the alarm
Before the crack of dawn
Usually the sun is peaking from under the horizon
Waiting for me
It's cold today, and I needed it's radiant light more then ever
I look over my shoulder and she gone
Even her indention has faded
We cuddle last night
Did I do it wrong
Was my body no warm enough
That's what happens when you sleep
With someone cold hearted
She left a note on the pillow with smeared lipstick streaked across it
I dare no open it
I pick it up an exhale deeply
Steam pouring from my mouth
I look out the window the sun still hasn't rising for me
It's already 12 o'clock
I rub my hands over the lipstick
Trying to remember the feel of your lips
**** it, I open it
And smirk two words
She never met my infatuation with detail
My predetermine guess was met
The End
Was all she wrote
This cup of life has not fulfilled,
My every longing quest to live,
Nor, has the tempest of the sea,
So drowned a sorrow and aching soul.

It seemed that when a life began,
The endless possibilities reigned,
With all the moments given to me,
To build some sort of life, you see.

But it was such a challenge, yes,
To predetermine the course to follow,
Yet, try so desperately little man,
To find a place where I belonged.

To reinvent what's lost in time,
Almost an event so impossible,though,
I struggled here and there to be,
More than what God had given freely.

Then morning comes one day you see,
That all emcompassing time is passed,
When we sit back to examine the road,
To how we arrived so quickly here.

But beats a heart with a directive to live,
Pounds ever hard to save what is left,
We look to the future with earnest means,
To be more than than the sum of me.
Phillip Knight Sep 2016
Sometimes I walk with heavier steps
When I feel the claustrophobic push of gravity weigh down upon me.
It feels as if I know the clouds are coming
Before the skies darken
And the air pressure thickens
I predetermine the outcome of my adventures
Through smokey *** curtains I see a future I fear
The self-fulfilling prophecy of stifling my own pace
By saying I am not good enough for you
Eventually you will tire of my jealously,
My overreaction.
It is in my nature to destroy the happiness I can see in front of me
To burn the path that leads to open arms
Arms that belong to a destiny that says
It could be us.

I am scared.

I am scared that I cannot accept what is the right way
That I am ageing into the mundane
And soon you will see
That you have so much life to live
Outside of my trapped stance

I am scared

That the clouds will part and the sun will shine
And blind you into forgetting me
As my warmth becomes suffocating
And you shred off the layers of pain that comes from loving me.
There is a dense sense of empathy;
For the broken poet only shines within the thoughts of his muse.
So who do I become,
When not in your comfort?
A shell. A breeding ground of irrational thinking
Though above these thoughts
The dampening worry of loss
And self humiliation of kidding myself
Comes one overwhelming thought.
...
I miss you.

You are not the clouds
You are the ground
The path I want to tread
The uneasy route that I deserve to find.
That an ongoing adventure, unknown and excitedly scary
Will keep me young, and alive
With the happy ending
In fairy tale promise that I dream we read together
In arms of embracing mental privilege and togetherness
At ease with the decisions we share
At ease with the comfort of each other.

My love is not that of fiction.
I did not find you within the pages of romance works
Or the flicker of black and white buzz.
I found you falling into my life
Like the gentle pour of refreshing rain on a close autumn eve, in darkening days.
I found you as natural kinship,
As the understanding of understanding why;
Life is worth living.

And I am scared.

I am scared of how I can view the world when I lose you.
When I can no longer see the world through the reflection in your eyes.
When my steps again grow heavy
And I have nowhere to go.

I love you,
Like you love me
There is no ending
Yet I fear the end.
I will forever fear losing you
Until the day I lose you
When my fear is too overpowering.
When the only steps i take are those over beaten ground
When I trample the last of my confidence
When I push you away, when I can no longer bear to see you hurt because of my love.
When you realise
That You deserve better than me
And I don't deserve you at all.
This cup of life has not fulfilled,
My every longing quest to live,
Nor, has the tempest of the sea,
So drowned a sorrow and aching soul.

It seemed that when a life began,
The endless possibilities reigned,
With all the moments given to me,
To build some sort of life, you see.

But it was such a challenge, yes,
To predetermine the course to follow,
Yet, try so desperately little man,
To find a place where I belonged.

To reinvent what's lost in time,
Almost an event so impossible,though,
I struggled here and there to be,
More than what God had given freely.

Then morning comes one day you see,
That all emcompassing time is passed,
When we sit back to examine the road,
To how we arrived so quickly here.

But beats a heart with a directive to live,
Pounds ever hard to save what is left,
We look to the future with earnest means,
To be more than than the sum of me.
Rafael Melendez May 2017
I can feel the trembling in my ear, I'm afraid of myself. Worried I'll predetermine the rapture, and have you running away.
Peach Pietersen Sep 2018
A feeling all too familiar, a feeling that follows me everywhere that I go
It shall not sleep nor shall it simmer, prominent until recognised

A feeling that shadows you, even in the morning light
It hates you as much as you hate it, which is why it has so much control over you

A feeling that makes you hate yourself, even though self love is your platform
It clouds your sense of reality, and takes over your fate

A feeling that ties you to the bed, even when you’ve got **** to do
It makes the thought of getting dressed, seem like a challenge similar to that of climbing Mount Everest

A feeling that wants to cuddle and comfort you, although that entails smoothering you until you feel like you can’t breathe
It will make you feel empty, until you are

A feeling that will steal your friends and family, even the way you see your life
It will try to predetermine your goals, and make you feel like you deserve nothing more

A feeling that, even at 11:11 is too loud to ignore
It can’t be turned off to wish for something different, the control runs deeper than that

A feeling you can see so familiar in someone else, and you try to intervene
It doesn’t matter though, because when it’s you you’re in it alone

A feeling of pure, total, shambolic misery.
It will not be ignored, it will not sleep
jigyasa Feb 2020
your eyes predetermine the forecast of my heart
and amidst prediction, they've stirred up a storm

my mind erupts from peaks to oceans
your breath being the momentum that fuels it endlessly

barefoot you walk
across the terrains of my thoughts
tread delicately love
your footsteps foreshadow movement of the sands

its odd weather you bring
but strangely i feel replenished

— The End —