theantediluvian

[theantediluvian]

Melodramatic Muse a poem by paisley moon

Macadamized in the lights

Fireworks in your eyes

Will it always be a tension of fight or flight

Wasted wishes on you with curbside dandelions

Felt it like a brush of cold, held you in my fractured soul

but you wouldn’t know

Truly not meant to be

You appeared mad at me

Left letters to align, I’ll wait here for a sign

Seven years ain’t a lot of time but if I have to brave it, it’ll be a battle line.

Cold embers, slates of gold, crowned liars getting old, gilded players plagues me with iron tolls

No armor could prevent my fate

I’m fading cause he left me with the blame, soaked in blood and shattered withe remnants of reckless garnets of bad luck and bad habits

Hold out for a saving chance to break it, I hope there’s no mistake here,

Would you call, could it happen I feel like I’m stuck being the experimental rabbit

Cold winds and flames of raiders I can’t keep my mind resting on figments of imagination lost in fashion , I can only repeal a singular transaction

Truthfully you captivated my lowly organ stole my blood and rushed my veins with lovely horrors , I’m growing tired and frustrated I can’t comprehend any cryptic message , I’ll fade out , tears swallowed, I’ll die and I’ll wallow till I can no longer follow the whims of tomorrow

Well I hope you’re happy because I think I actually might have loved you.

[theantediluvian]

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[theantediluvian]

devoid of mercy a poem by me

Hold fast, don't yield, no mercy is our combative shield. Resilience is the antidote of pain, confidence conquers the doubts of disarray. The conquest of life is a redundant fight, a continuous battle, the meek may whimper and the brave may bark but the battle cry of the cobra overarches with vast might and phraseologies which never die,  the consequent of its intensity reigns in rebellion for the weakened antilogies of a seldom bleaker end, how the endurance of the snake fights for victory despite its belligerence it holds the trophy of consistency and strikes to win, strength is embodied in the golden brace, legacy is interwoven in the ebony gi's, mastery is wielded by their spawns and greatness is embedded in their psyche and victory is written in their deputation to the name and the vestige of the eminent establishment and way of life, COBRA KAI.

[theantediluvian]

Column no 2: relics of reality

The antithetical writer Column no 2: relics of reality     Desolate embers trace the winds of yesterdays and the pigment of the sky never looked so beige, winter has disappeared in the midst of its solstice but the sun has stayed, our hearts our held high but the state of the world is in disarray. Verity is lacking and conformity is rapid, jolting confusion and radiant delusions have painted our atmospheres a violent hue. Credulence has brought our lands to destruction, prudence and ignorance has left our lives in seldom destitution, fighting with unwise weaponry and reckless disregard has caused dissolution. Feeling watched in every corner by a rectangular column still, a man whom never sowed a garden paints our skies grey with a counterfeit quill, men who claim they are thoughtful only care for us when green paper flies, do they wonder why their is an uprise of conquest that seeks to gain an eye for an eye. Our people stripped of their future, freedom and chance to choose, riddled with riots is a matter that lost cause tells us we have everything to lose, caught up in a divisive collision is a group who have forgotten they have a right to making autonomous decisions, trapped in a system that scolds us that we are the ones that are meant to listen, protuberance of a conflicting mind, consequences of a drift in time, exuberance is what’s captivated between the lines of valiant voices, artful mimes, cosmic choices and violet paint that scatters the disunity of lies. Resist the hail of high ground that brings us to ruin, embolden the ruse of those who bruise our liberty to run and wield our own devices , what a dystopia we’ve constructed, what a disruptive world we’ve created, open the page and read aloud, count to ten and turn your back to the crowds, raise the narrative that carries meaning, erase the lies you were given, cultivate a new land that others can admonish.     Dire dissolutions, failed constitutions, wrecked in rhymes and ruins, they stopped the starts of schemes and left us with counterfeits to keep, locked inside the labyrinth like Theseus in Crete, defined to be defeated, caged to be depleted. Robbed of our independence, willingly we sell our autonomy for hedonistic desires, we settle on conformity for the prize of convenience and lose in the barder with big corps to trade our minds for temporary escapism. This conquest for identity often leaves us without one, we put on a costume and pretend it's an extension of us when in reality we've surrendered our creativity for being a fraud.  

[theantediluvian]

Column no.1: The Conquest Toward Independent Thought

the antithetical writer Column no.1: The Conquest Toward Independent Thought

    We walk across the pavement, we jolt into our cars, we watch others exist and we live to coerce but may I ask you this question for it to sit with you as you read this entry and as you put it down, for you to answer it with intentional regard? The question; what propels your thoughts, what initiates your statements, what filtration, what system do you process your thoughts and what built that system?     This question came to mind as i reread the essay self reliance by ralph waldo emerson and began to think about the construct of thought and how it closely interacts with our built or indoctrinated system by which we filter information and form judgments and thoughts as well as proceed with that received knowledge in a way that aligns with the established categories within our brains. I naturally began to think about the political aspect within our culture and the division that absence of “critical individual thought” has had on our nation and on our strength as a people, as a unit of movement and power. I've spent a large percentage of this week thinking about what has molded my methodology of processing information and would hope you would too, because by examining what influences our judgments it can help expose our own biases, the things we close an eye to or the things we over amplify. Are we a copy and paste of every news source, media post, podcast, book or statement made by an authority figure or friend or are we beacons of independent thought? I ask this because I too fell into the trap of regurgitating the words of my favorite author, musician or speaker simply because I agreed with a good fraction of what they said, not that we shouldn't look to others for wisdom and insight. The point of this notion is to recognize our immediate imitation of other ideas and instead begin slowly digesting information and authentically living by our own intuitions and convictions. I've witnessed countless people including myself, family members, friends, teachers, professors, influencers and people in places of power rely on recycled rhetoric and once that script ends they have nothing left to say and this dependency on pre-established notions and narratives is not only lazy but dangerous because it restricts us from our fullest potential as people because it places us out of practicing critical thinking and individual creative novice.        This brings me to the importance of authentic individuality and by that I mean being completely honest with ourselves, listening to our intuitions, relying on our inner convictions, resisting conformity and not being afraid to be hated or outcasted merely because we believe one thing or the other. If you believe like me that there are objective rights and wrongs that define and categorize ethics then I think we instinctively are drawn to the proper conclusions by an inner voice that compels our soul and mind to act in accordance.