with great power: my ode to the school of myers-briggs

okay, first, listen to this: The Night You Left New York by Slow Six. not necessarily first. you can listen while you read. all right, it's very long. almost ten minutes. but i promise you it will be worth it. when have i ever steered you wrong (as far as music is concerned)? also, if you're smart, all the songs i post on my blog are obtainable. ask me if you're confused. but keep it hush-hush.

now to our featured writing: this is an old poem. and not as applicable or strongly felt as it was then. but why not say it? why not say anything?

these nuclear ABCs
thrust into our hands
regurgitated alphabet soup
[that leaks into our pores
and infects our veins]
TOO.MUCH.POWER
like cars or the internet or love
we become
ambassadors of understanding and
weapons of judgment
glowing radiation from our pedestal
bestowing
{four letter names}
like godly gifts:
“You're Welcome”
and argument is futile
because we are
the educated ones
and moreover
the intuitives
wizards, elves
while the hobbits and men look on
with unfocused eyes
from below
[S stands for Stupid]
But this disease has an
antidote
and its name is equality.

let me fly this plane by myself, and let me crash it. oh, let me crash it hard and fatally. let me spiral dive plummet explode into the mysterious dark that is the ground. let me shake the earth with my impact. let me shrink until i am invisible. let me expand until i am unimaginable. give me mountains. give me lightning storms so vivid that the sky is the white-blue electricity and dark lines run across it in chaotic patterns. give me a volcano that will blast me beyond the farthest reaches of science, into a void that will fill me like nothing else can. give me deepest sorrow, for without it, there is no ultimate joy. break my heart suddenly and slowly. don't stop. let me walk until my feet shatter themselves out of rebellion. that place, the place where i am forced to stop, will become my new home. crush my bones. take my hands and my feet and stretch me until my anguished figure covers oceans. hold me until i forget what alone felt like. abandon me. drop me. lift me up, up, until the air is too thin and my vision goes black. bury me in an avalanche. let my stomping make footfalls louder than a sonic boom. let me catch acid rain on my tongue. give me breathtaking tragedies and bittersweet miracles. let my heartbeat never slow, never rest, but thrum on, unsteadily, in a wild and unpredictable mountain range of vivacity. let me sing notes of dissonance until lurid redness streams from my ears and my throat. vacuum the air from my lungs and the blood from my veins. let the waters pound over me in salty undulating throbs. no need for narcissistic questioning and coddling--surround me in action and impossibly powerful people. give me life. give me inspiration. give me the strength to inspire. I know what i am saying. i know what i am asking for. and this letter is to no one but myself.

reveling

a dazzling freefall
ensues
and laws of motion
blur
with the velocity.
up and down
mesh
into swirling ambiguity

hovering
rocketing
plummeting

f l o a t i n g
in
discrete
particles of matter
individual journeys
with a common bond

and no parachute is
necessary,
for (given time)
we shall
{certainly}
grow wings to F L Y.

(hello)

piece by piece

the world crumbles down around you

before you know it

you

are

alone

left naked with only your

reflection.

This is what you have to face

(all you have)

for the rest of

forever

bottom of the line

[This is the Center]

not of the universe

but of yours.

barren, cracking ground

stretches out before you indefinitely

not to remain dead but

to be planted, nourished by

you

yourself

alone

your empire to build

yours to destroy

no room can ever hide you from

[yourself.]

no sleep will deceive you forever.

open. eyes.

Now rather than later

smell the raw

p o s s i b i l i t i e s

listen to

(your own)

whispered secrets

and

above

all

else...

LIVE.

little inspirations.

mumford&sons. this. (listen to this. now.)

a poem on the bus:

Separation by W.S. Merwin
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.

uncertainty and his accomplices

everything happens

up and over and across and inside us

it placates you for a moment now and then

with a quiet wind sweeping the alleys of your skull but too soon

or nearly too late

it grabs you by the umbilical cord

and swings you out into the vast beyond

where you are blind

and icicles grow like stalactites

in your marrow.

above all

you fear being alone

:andyouare:

above all

you fear being forgotten

so with your last frozen swallow of oxygen

you will start a riot

you will demolish an empire

you will shout your love

you will do it,

all you ever threatened yourself to do

in what seems to be

your final moment

and it won't be too late

everything everything everything

will

SNAP!

bring you back

for another indefinite period

of hollow breezes

when you feel in control

and you

can

breathe

and you

can

laugh

and you may even forget

why it was

you used to tear your pillow

with knifing sobs

and you will be happy in this moment.

but don't forget

don't abandon

the

things

you

know

inside and around and under and through us

everything happens.

....tomorrow. :)

on the eve of everything

no one sleeps

they only stare into the

ceiling sky

and swallow their regrets

trying to remember why

they are going

what will they find?

and what will they leave behind?

they wish the answers were

carved somewhere above them

celestial petroglyphs

to light a dark road

but they wait instead for the morning

whisper goodbye into the dying night

and then set off on

their great journey