deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Madman Stares from His Window (***Filler/Long***)
***WARNING: Some offensive religious content.***
PART ONE: "The Madman Stares from His Window"
God [in the form of the tempting voice spoken behind the ear]: Is this what you want?
[said to the madman watching the shiny white legs on the sidewalk below, the bustly hairbun chatting on her cellphone]
Madman: No...
No, I don’t want that...
I just want it to exist...
I just want it to pass by...
I just want it to be there,
For my other men,
That they may be captured,
And thus motivated
To keep the world moving,
And so thus exhausted,
They keep to their caverns and behave,
Not causing any daily hindrances,
Nor blockages to the distribution routes...
I just want it to be there,
So that I am correct in my Watching,
Reaffirmed of my Inner Remembrance...
And in the gladness of my separation from it,
I rejoice with the continual reassurance
That I am correct with the Path I have chosen,
The Path towards You...
God: I see...
[a long pause assumes]
PART TWO: "Later with the Madman at His Window"
God [again in that voice from close behind]: But look at it!
Do you not at least yearn for it
During times of lingering exhaustedness?
Do you not crave to put your lips to it,
To hold its bulgings in your palms,
To feel that little loss-of-control,
That centered over-ride of sheer acceptance?
[said again to the madman, who is watching yet another trot by below]
Madman: Alas! A woman is yet herself many women!
Even the young ones in their larval bindings
Will turn that way quickly enough!
Alas! If they were mindless inanimates,
I’d use them as I would!
But no, alas! They have their own agendas,
And many oilsome necessities!
Yea, a man who enters for his own commandings
Is like the bird who takes one peck of the fruit
And moves on to the next!
Eventually the whole tree is made rotten!
Yea, it is too much of a responsibility,
The time afterward, continuing on!
Too much exhausting attention
To keep the slippery from brittling,
The nasty crawlers from spoiling the tastes,
The inevitable arisings of most horrendous stench!
Just look at Your own responsibilities,
In keeping the stars and planets spinning in their place...
Why, I cannot even keep my own self contained!
My cells in constantly blind exchange,
My mind detached at the slightest pain!
How could I even consider cultivating the grounds of another,
Being in such a mucky state so recklessly draining?!
God: Very well...
But if ye cannot be Contained,
Then ye must make children who one day will...
[another pause assumes]
PART THREE: "The Madman Turns from His Window and Begins to Question"
Madman: And just what do you mean by saying,
“That I must make children who one day will?”
God [now in the form of an invisible conversant, situated a few feet before the madman’s eyes]:
Well, it’s kind of the way I Exist.
If you have chosen for yourself that you cannot be sustained,
Then you must pass that task onto another.
Someone must always be awake,
To make sure the universe is still there and keeps going...
You thus have children to continue the recognition of My Existence.
The more the merrier, so they say!
I’m open to as many customers as possible!
Madman: Customers?
God: Remember, I’m just as much an Industrialist
As a Social Care-Provider!
Madman: Ah! Even the High and Lofty One
Has a bit of bi-partisan humour!
How Perfect!
But what of Perfection?
Am I not Perfect as I am,
Being in the Image of You?
Why must I multiply?
I see only a greater surface area with such expansion!
A greater probability of malignance somewhere!
Not enough defense spending to patrol the far borders!
An insurgence will surely arise!
What is so great with more of one thing?!
Why must Perfection be so replicated?!
Was not the combination of matter and anti-matter,
Just in their existences, the Original Completion?
Does not a drop contain the sense of an ocean?
Does not a photon convey the sense of a star?
Does not a page provide the sense of a novel?
The more programs I add, the sooner my hard drive collapses!
They only give a one year warranty on those bloody things!
No, I will remain from afar.
As I’ve said before,
My words are my children.
At least I may preach
Of the Observance unto You
To all the young couples around,
That they may be better parents...
But when their kids are old enough to sneak into rooms,
Upon their bookshelf will my words be reached!
PART ONE: "The Madman Stares from His Window"
God [in the form of the tempting voice spoken behind the ear]: Is this what you want?
[said to the madman watching the shiny white legs on the sidewalk below, the bustly hairbun chatting on her cellphone]
Madman: No...
No, I don’t want that...
I just want it to exist...
I just want it to pass by...
I just want it to be there,
For my other men,
That they may be captured,
And thus motivated
To keep the world moving,
And so thus exhausted,
They keep to their caverns and behave,
Not causing any daily hindrances,
Nor blockages to the distribution routes...
I just want it to be there,
So that I am correct in my Watching,
Reaffirmed of my Inner Remembrance...
And in the gladness of my separation from it,
I rejoice with the continual reassurance
That I am correct with the Path I have chosen,
The Path towards You...
God: I see...
[a long pause assumes]
PART TWO: "Later with the Madman at His Window"
God [again in that voice from close behind]: But look at it!
Do you not at least yearn for it
During times of lingering exhaustedness?
Do you not crave to put your lips to it,
To hold its bulgings in your palms,
To feel that little loss-of-control,
That centered over-ride of sheer acceptance?
[said again to the madman, who is watching yet another trot by below]
Madman: Alas! A woman is yet herself many women!
Even the young ones in their larval bindings
Will turn that way quickly enough!
Alas! If they were mindless inanimates,
I’d use them as I would!
But no, alas! They have their own agendas,
And many oilsome necessities!
Yea, a man who enters for his own commandings
Is like the bird who takes one peck of the fruit
And moves on to the next!
Eventually the whole tree is made rotten!
Yea, it is too much of a responsibility,
The time afterward, continuing on!
Too much exhausting attention
To keep the slippery from brittling,
The nasty crawlers from spoiling the tastes,
The inevitable arisings of most horrendous stench!
Just look at Your own responsibilities,
In keeping the stars and planets spinning in their place...
Why, I cannot even keep my own self contained!
My cells in constantly blind exchange,
My mind detached at the slightest pain!
How could I even consider cultivating the grounds of another,
Being in such a mucky state so recklessly draining?!
God: Very well...
But if ye cannot be Contained,
Then ye must make children who one day will...
[another pause assumes]
PART THREE: "The Madman Turns from His Window and Begins to Question"
Madman: And just what do you mean by saying,
“That I must make children who one day will?”
God [now in the form of an invisible conversant, situated a few feet before the madman’s eyes]:
Well, it’s kind of the way I Exist.
If you have chosen for yourself that you cannot be sustained,
Then you must pass that task onto another.
Someone must always be awake,
To make sure the universe is still there and keeps going...
You thus have children to continue the recognition of My Existence.
The more the merrier, so they say!
I’m open to as many customers as possible!
Madman: Customers?
God: Remember, I’m just as much an Industrialist
As a Social Care-Provider!
Madman: Ah! Even the High and Lofty One
Has a bit of bi-partisan humour!
How Perfect!
But what of Perfection?
Am I not Perfect as I am,
Being in the Image of You?
Why must I multiply?
I see only a greater surface area with such expansion!
A greater probability of malignance somewhere!
Not enough defense spending to patrol the far borders!
An insurgence will surely arise!
What is so great with more of one thing?!
Why must Perfection be so replicated?!
Was not the combination of matter and anti-matter,
Just in their existences, the Original Completion?
Does not a drop contain the sense of an ocean?
Does not a photon convey the sense of a star?
Does not a page provide the sense of a novel?
The more programs I add, the sooner my hard drive collapses!
They only give a one year warranty on those bloody things!
No, I will remain from afar.
As I’ve said before,
My words are my children.
At least I may preach
Of the Observance unto You
To all the young couples around,
That they may be better parents...
But when their kids are old enough to sneak into rooms,
Upon their bookshelf will my words be reached!
Published 23rd May 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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23rd May 2014 8:17pm
Alright alright alright! One last sarcastic anti-relationship piece! Then we'll be moving on... (Well, I have a few more song recordings on this lovely theme, which I'll post sometime later on soundcloud with the lyrics here).
I suppose the only justification for wasting peoples' time by posting something like this is that it reflects the high percentage of sarcastic anti-relationship work committed during the Port Hopeless phase. This piece also continues on my most favoured Madman theme. Here I've put God unconventionally as the "tempting voice behind the shoulder", a position usually reserved for the tempters and temptresses. Well, indeed, God wants you to mate for the purpose of procuring offspring! (It's the "stolen waters" and "bread eaten in secret" which is the bad advice...).
I actually didn't write much poetry over the three year term (and I am getting quite annoyed with posting from it and am getting quite anxious to get onto the next phase, which occupies a good 5-6 years of time in which I pretty much wrote only poetry... you will soon see this dramatic change of pace).
My writings during the Port Hopeless phase took strange shapes in the forms of economics and environmentalism, plus this anti-relationship stuff. Although I probably was a tad anti-relationship all along, in the grunge era sense, and certainly wasn't one of the higher points kind of guy on the football prom team.
I mean I shouldn't really bad-mouth my last lover, I loved her dearly and cherish her still as a good friend - apart from the hundred ways it could have worked and the hundred other ways it definitely wasn't going to work, it had to do with a certain demand she had of me - to be there, present, in the moment.
Being one who writes Poetry and being a little off the hinges, being "present, in the moment" was just something I could not produce! I'm days off, months out, centuries away! I'm never wholly in the place I'm walking through!
This caused all sorts of problems with the relationship (as it has in my life in all other aspects, such as my inability to earn a degree or earn a mortgage, or become some fabled conceptual voice of a generation, etc!).
Certainly there were times when my lover was justified in chiding me for staring off into spaces and not responding to the conversation in adequate time - I certainly deserved the Zen-Master stick-whackings then! But there were many times as well, when I was entirely happily fused in the moment with her, enjoying the grindy subway ride, bodies glued in rest and anticipation - when it still wasn't enough...
...Ah! Enough of this personal drivel! What am I getting at?! Okay, what I mean to say is that yes, it is entirely necessary for you to be "present, in the moment" when it comes to being in a relationship. For in it's completion through parenthood, you certainly have to be "with it" - you just can't be off in la la land posting poetry to websites while your toddling offspring is wandering off into the pouncing range of the circling sabre-toothed tigers! You can't be off listening to music and chatting on facebook when your toddler is sampling the liquor cabinet of household cleaning products below the sink!
It is probably best for the sake of the Nation and State that I never become a father..!
I suppose the only justification for wasting peoples' time by posting something like this is that it reflects the high percentage of sarcastic anti-relationship work committed during the Port Hopeless phase. This piece also continues on my most favoured Madman theme. Here I've put God unconventionally as the "tempting voice behind the shoulder", a position usually reserved for the tempters and temptresses. Well, indeed, God wants you to mate for the purpose of procuring offspring! (It's the "stolen waters" and "bread eaten in secret" which is the bad advice...).
I actually didn't write much poetry over the three year term (and I am getting quite annoyed with posting from it and am getting quite anxious to get onto the next phase, which occupies a good 5-6 years of time in which I pretty much wrote only poetry... you will soon see this dramatic change of pace).
My writings during the Port Hopeless phase took strange shapes in the forms of economics and environmentalism, plus this anti-relationship stuff. Although I probably was a tad anti-relationship all along, in the grunge era sense, and certainly wasn't one of the higher points kind of guy on the football prom team.
I mean I shouldn't really bad-mouth my last lover, I loved her dearly and cherish her still as a good friend - apart from the hundred ways it could have worked and the hundred other ways it definitely wasn't going to work, it had to do with a certain demand she had of me - to be there, present, in the moment.
Being one who writes Poetry and being a little off the hinges, being "present, in the moment" was just something I could not produce! I'm days off, months out, centuries away! I'm never wholly in the place I'm walking through!
This caused all sorts of problems with the relationship (as it has in my life in all other aspects, such as my inability to earn a degree or earn a mortgage, or become some fabled conceptual voice of a generation, etc!).
Certainly there were times when my lover was justified in chiding me for staring off into spaces and not responding to the conversation in adequate time - I certainly deserved the Zen-Master stick-whackings then! But there were many times as well, when I was entirely happily fused in the moment with her, enjoying the grindy subway ride, bodies glued in rest and anticipation - when it still wasn't enough...
...Ah! Enough of this personal drivel! What am I getting at?! Okay, what I mean to say is that yes, it is entirely necessary for you to be "present, in the moment" when it comes to being in a relationship. For in it's completion through parenthood, you certainly have to be "with it" - you just can't be off in la la land posting poetry to websites while your toddling offspring is wandering off into the pouncing range of the circling sabre-toothed tigers! You can't be off listening to music and chatting on facebook when your toddler is sampling the liquor cabinet of household cleaning products below the sink!
It is probably best for the sake of the Nation and State that I never become a father..!
23rd May 2014 8:56pm
okay maybe i missed something, but that didn't seem very sexist to me, actually, i thought it was frickin wonderful, =D
by saying that it is sexist makes it seem more sexist i guess...
really though, excellent work <3.
by saying that it is sexist makes it seem more sexist i guess...
really though, excellent work <3.
Ah, good call! I'll remove the warning. Always trying to be as courteous as possible on the web...
(Commenter was commenting on previous "sexist" warning at top of poem, which was later revised and removed by Poster)
(Commenter was commenting on previous "sexist" warning at top of poem, which was later revised and removed by Poster)
23rd May 2014 8:58pm
oh yeah almost forgot
"God: Remember, I’m just as much an Industrialist
As a Social Care-Provider! "
^love it!
"God: Remember, I’m just as much an Industrialist
As a Social Care-Provider! "
^love it!
27th May 2014 6:23pm
25th May 2014 10:09pm
I spotted the misogynistic undertones, but as a vent over a break-up, understandable.
Great concept though, of God the temptor and a 'madman'!
Great concept though, of God the temptor and a 'madman'!
27th May 2014 6:30pm
Thanks many Ataki.
I'll try to keep my personal drivel to a minimum, or as timelessly universally relevant as possible.
Just two or three more anti-relationship song lyrics left, then I'll be moving back to other things such as trespassing stumblings through the twisted walls of trees under the stars as darting persecuting eyes...
I'll try to keep my personal drivel to a minimum, or as timelessly universally relevant as possible.
Just two or three more anti-relationship song lyrics left, then I'll be moving back to other things such as trespassing stumblings through the twisted walls of trees under the stars as darting persecuting eyes...
27th May 2014 7:06am
27th May 2014 6:32pm
