Since when did I want to be a poet?  I don’t know… the language has been so corrupted.  I want to learn Latin… in all its purity… until then I’ll use English

A Secret Rose

They say only the dreamers know

The forlorn meaning of true love.

Away looked he who held the plow,

His gentleness masked by a glove.

This is the tale of a lover,

Living in an era of strife

A mortal man like all other,

Were it not for his other life.

Of the infinite skies we see,

Many a heated stars die cold,

Trapped in a fateful harmony,

Though rare those hearts of pure pure gold…

A lattice of simplicity,

Found only in the pleasant stars,

Not a drop of duplicity.

Herein, receive he many scars.

In boundless fields of golden grain,

Our paragon toils thus unseen.

Darkness rules and he feels the drain,

Without protest, he keeps the green.

Here stays he, awaiting the change.

For whom he wait, only he knows.

A perfect lover for his grange,

For this… he has his secret rose…

Meh, I waste so much time everyday on poems like these... love or hate... it doesn't matter anymore... I've gotten used to writing both... it's sickening how easily rhythm comes to me these days... Ha! This poem is about the corruption of true love by "modern" city life and how only dreamers (idealists) know true love and how an organic farmer keeps the future safe (after we destroy the ecology of most of the world)... how this is also a symbol of our ideal social values i.e. love... it's also about how simplicity is best but simplicity is not quite simple... just look at a crystal or a piece of paper and you'll understand... there's more, you try your own interpretation... the glove.... the mask.... the plow... the scar... the drain...

If there’s something in memory that I cannot access

Then there’s tyranny somewhere, one I will assess.

Somewhere in memories a trove not assessed

If anger’s a gift, then I’ve been blessed

I can’t quite get right the feel that all is going well,

I say, damn you.  Ring the freaking hell bell.

Because I’m the darkness that haunts the night

The bringer of complete wrath upon your sight

I cannot stand you, not one bit more. 

You have no idea what horror I hold in store

For an era of terror and unwarranted might

To a time when shines the social light

I would not for a second more forgive

What warrants the pains through which I live.

Had I an extinction blade then you’d all be dead

I’d stab your heart and reduce your head

So dance to the song of fate, yo yonder men of clay

I think it’s time for some change this day

Come on out and then we’ll play

With a shotgun so you’ll finally pay

The debt you owe to my friend,

So this day, this day, we… will… mend…

Consilio et Animis - By Wisdom and Courage

Veni, Vedi, Vici - I came, I saw, I conquered

Carpe Diem - Seize the Present/Seize the Day

Magnum Opum - A Great Undertaking

Pro Memoria - For the Memory

Malo Modo - In an Evil Manner

Gold is both good and bad.  It symbolizes weatlh and good fortune.  However, it also symbolizes greed.  Some would call greed the source of all evil.

Darkness is only dark to those used to the light.  Despite the fact one may see more outside of Plato's cave, perhaps the illusion is reversed.  We do not know what is real and what is not.  Perhaps the world is shadows is reality and we are but puppets.  I have doubts but anything is possible.

My Impetus and My Eternal Will:
My Body, My Mind and Immortal Soul.

I almost learned how to fold a paper rose today and I learned how to hold a paper double heart today.

Wonder if I can actually maintain a daily blog... I'm really lazy but MSN msger makes it really easy especially if I'm bored... I remember being too lazy to log into my blog/website and letting them die... hmm... think they're dead now...

This is the weekend, a time of relaxation and recollection.  My meditations on life have brought me nothing but more questions.  I have reaffirmed my belief that the purpose of life lies in the very search for absolutes--an absolute meaning to life.  In other words.  We seek universal truth whiere universal truth may or may not be found.

I think I can end up writing essays on this thing when I'm bored.

This is why I like the colour green:
Green is a creative colour but blue is soothing.  Green is ancient.  It is the colour of the beggining and the end--the colour of the source and the void.  The colour of technologies beyond our scope and mysteries from an era long lost to the mists of time.  It is the life of technology in the future, of all microprocessors and of the frist artificial intelligence.  It is the colour of the first true being of complex nature with the adaptions neccessary to allow the existance of thought after eons of evolution.  Green is the revolution.  This is green...

Febrile madness accompanied by ennui begins with insanity.  Lose to me.  The last game which is play.  Dedicate this all to pain.  Give in to myself.  Give in to anger, Give in to pain.  Give in to love.  Give in to hate.  Give in to failure.  Give in to success.

If anger's a gift then I've been blessed.

I'll probably use this to rant...