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Mystery of History


Start with the premise:

It’s all been done

End with the conclusion:

To innovate is delusion.


The brain of Twain

Developed the maxim,

A historical axiom,

That the recurrence of time

Does not repeat but rhyme.


Slant rhymes, I presume, must be included

In history’s wrappings, riddled and clued.

Perfect rhymes are written and glued

By the victors of war –

History’s whores.


Or maybe history doesn’t

Rhyme at all,

Nor does it have a Dal segno.

Rather, history is an echo

Off the walls of Plato’s cave.


The Break Down

This tile, “The Break Down,” can allude to an array of different topics and directions that this blog post can escape into. For instance, I could be talking about the importance of breakdowns in a piece of metal music. Or, I might be talking about mental collapse. Maybe I’m having car trouble…

Rather, I would like to “break down” my last post so that it doesn’t go largely misunderstood. Parts of it are incredibly esoteric and other parts are written in my own word codes. Hence, I feel it necessary to “break down” my word reasons in my last poem so that I don’t experience mental collapse and, consequently, break down. I’m still going to leave some parts of the poem unanswered – as one man said in the obscenity trial of Ginsberg’s Howl, “Poetry can’t be translated into prose. That is why it is poetry.” – but I do think that there are some inherent historical examples within the poem that need mentioning. This might be moderately conceited for me to do, but so it goes. So here is the poem, again, with the director commentary turned on:

Cumming of a Creed

What we need

Is the cumming of a creed:

A doctrine of divinity that

Shakes human from slumber:

Words of thunder


To the strike of wonder:

There are no seconds to count (counting time between lightning and thunder)

Between what comes forth:

And what comes fourth

Is always wonder,


Curiosity, amazement, bafflement.


Wonder is the most common

Denominator amongst demigods

Such as ourselves.


Ourselves as barb ells

Of differing masses:

For we all possess

Sharp, measuring minds (“barbs” are sharp – “ells” measure)

With their own

Gravitational pull. (the gravitational pull of an object depends on its mass)

Impatience and

Low tolerance to time

Has left us lightwaits. (one who does not like to wait)

Forever abandon the now,

And start the next,



Beginning next

This creed shall be of us,

By us,

For us,

In the Abrahamic tradition. (“…of the people, by the people, for the people…” is from the Gettysburg Address, spoken by “Abraham” Lincoln. I’m playing off the Christian, Jewish and Islamic Abrahamic traditions.   

It shall encompass


And end compass



It shall guide us astray

To the ashtrays

Of our minds

Where thoughts are pinched out


Laying in heaps

Of perceptual filters,

Yet shielding the Formica countertop

Of life

From collecting dust.


It shall explode



Upon the Hiroshima

Of humdrum humanity,


The Nagasaki

Of dismal dailies. (dropings of the atomic bombs in WWII)

It shall be a specter haunting. You erupt (Marx’s Communist Manifesto starts off, “There is a specter haunting Europe – the specter of communism.” Vietnam War was a war against Communists)

27 years later (amount of time between WWII and Vietnam War)

When the values

That vested you

Are vaporized off your body by

Napalm napalm napalm napalm napalm

During Vietnamese Kodak moments (famous picture of little girl with clothing burned off by napalm during the Vietnam War. Google “Vietnam napalm” and you’ll find it.)

That warp your face

Into Edvard Munch hallucinations (Edvard Munch painted “The Scream.” The facial expression in the painting looks similar to the faces in the napalm picture.)

Of harrowing beauty.


It shall Socratically “WHY?” you (Socratic method of asking “why?” repeatedly)

While you worry “why YOU?”

Until your ever present thoughts (“ever present” = ubiquitous)

Strip the Y U

From intellectual ubi-quity, (take away the Y and U, and your left with bi-quit. To quit twice.

And you declare “I know nothing” (quote attributed to Socrates)

For the second time.


It shall deflower your comprehension

With Joycean oceans (James Joyce used a lot of poetic codes and riddles in his writing)

Of cryptic cry,

And it won’t call the next day.

Or the next.


It shall be

Crowley (Aleister Crowley, but also an allusion of a circling crow of death)

Circling above

The flower of truth,

Waiting to descend

Once “what thou wilt” (“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law” – Aleister Crowley)

Wilts petals into wonder.


And word thunder

Will rumble

As long as

Tongues tumble,

And tongues tumble

All down to the bottom,

Because even this

Fall has an autumn.