Soliloquy in Thought No. 1

A word of empassioned influence, the crowd in the palm of the hand, of the speaker and his confidence, a great more great with falling sand.

A lesson amongst the madness, the co tent vast and growing, of better lives and greater minds, a time of knowledge flowing.

A discussion with the people, the matter to be addressed, of changing what one knows, a life that has been blessed.

A challenge to authority, the power undermined, of information scrutinised, a difficult endeavour.

A mention in praise of effort, the journey nears an end, of undetermined learnings, a process ought to mend.

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Passion

Misplaced by many;
Each nature not private,
On sleeves and in hearts.
One searches,
One finds,
One is empowered.
Embodied in the disheartened thrills,
Each must empathise.
For what meaning does passion unite?
May it be accepted in order to belong;
Socially acceptable behaviour.
Not that one must be accepted,
For passion thives greater within,
Lust overpowers the patterns on ones sleeve,
Desire and emotion create meaning for some,
And crush others…
Why?
Simply passion drives.
We must yet steer,
But accept our own destinations.

Guise.

Up for Discussion

For many of us, the art of discussion, of debate and disagreement, exists no more. Done away with by the ongoing discourse of being offensive to somebody’s ears. In an age where we’ve made these efforts to protect disadvantaged members of society, we have in turn created a pseudo-culture where offense brings with it a full stop on your conversation.

In this bubble wrapped society, even the most insignificant choices of words are enough to be brandish offensive. Your image is now of someone who is out to negatively impact everyone else.

What we’ve done is warped an effort which was intently good, and created a weapon in the disarming of conversations we now choose to be a part of. So much of the conversation rests now on symantics, and we often overlook the content.

The reason this problem is so important to us, is because in a world where we are never sure which news sources are on the straight, whether we are being lied to, or even with suspicions that the masses are being mind numbed for suppression, discussion and disagreement are our way to activate the truth finding parts of our brain. It is the sharing or discussion of ideas in order to learn, to grow, and to change.

Instead, we’re now too busy being offended to have a discussion, to willingly closing our minds off for fear of being wrong. As a collective, we must stop our fixation on winning the argument, and open ourself up to what somebody else is actually saying.

Who knows, maybe I’m just rambling for the sake of rambling, maybe I’ve proven a home truth. Prove to me otherwise.

Guise.

Father

Teaching wit and wisdom,

Sharp and purposeful,

From early, you taught,

And I listened.

I learned,

How to think,

How to question,

How to be strong,

How to be gentle.

Your example set my foundation,

Lit my curiosity,

And thirst for knowledge and answers.

I will always love you.

Guise.

Fortune

To be surrounded,

By those you love,

And whose love,

Reciprocates,

A feeling of true humanity,

Community,

A place which makes sense,

In a world which does not.

Lucky, I consider

myself to be,

In a world which is not.

Guise.

Reality Driven

Follow says the wise,

Be educated and concise.

Know and tell,

To learn and share.

Expression of privy.

Follow says the leader,

For wisdom is but pestilence,

Transferrable.

Not logical nor emotional.

Blind.

Follow says the poor,

Take example and opportunity.

One must be grateful,

Not greedy and ambitious.

Follow says the indescribably unique,

You are the well of all knowledge.

Guise.

From Another Time

Poetry three weeks in a row… what the fuck, man?

I know, I know, the sentient Guise has been absent for nearly a month now, instead replaced by a number of poetic short verses. How dare I stay away for so long, taking the easy way out by sharing works that are old and already written.

Construction, Pressure, and Nights for Knights were all works from a time well before now. A time that as much as I’d like to, I don’t really remember much about. It’s not some suppressed memories deal, but more so that I’ve just got a terrible memory. These pieces were from another time, a time when I was enveloped by completely different set of stimuli, challenges, muses, thoughts, feelings, and anxiety.

And only recently did I find these. Once locked away only to be found if I passed, a legacy I thought which was worthwhile sharing in the afterlife, only. But that was fear. Fear that maybe I wasn’t good at this writing thing. It was safer.

Whilst I recognise that it may seem like I’ve been taking the easy way out just to keep on track for this goal of weekly updates (which i guess is partially true, I’m not going to pretend to be some sort of delusional, all-wise, martyr), I’ve realised that sharing this work is important.

Writing was my escape, a coping mechanism to deal with what I felt was an existence of isolation and anxiety. But I can’t sit here today and tell you what I was thinking, what I was specifically dealing with, what had sent me into a particular frame of mind, but my writing can get pretty damn close to it.

So I’ve decided to share with people now, rather than later, and on occasions, I’ll dig up some pieces from another time.

Heck, they may still even be relevant.

 

Guise.