Reflections from the Deck Part 2

The sun appears magnificent when it
Arises in a brilliant blaze,
Eclipsing all else that would meet your gaze
Due to its warm bright light when it is lit.
But that star does not in one place remain –
In fact it is in constant speedy flight –
But for a moment giving you its light
Before it flies on, moving yet again.
But there is one that stands the test of time
For when the sun does set and night does dawn,
The sea remains in place, it carries on
With its sweet soothing sounds and looks sublime.
This flightiness is in the sun innate
As is the sea’s contentedness to wait.

Remember and Respect

Could peace be found
By knowing the next,
With no divided ground,
Lay suspicions to rest?

Or shall we remain
Secluded from others,
Cease attempts to feign
Appreciation of brothers?

For the storm well-known
By all that walk the earth,
Seems weighed down by stone,
Raining terror for all it's worth.

We must remember that relations require labors,
But respect the extent to which good fences make good neighbors.

Outlier

Born into a world of
Unforgiving expectancy where
Standards are high and never faltering,
I can't help but feel isolated.

The society which is mine
Requires perfection with ease,
Error is sin, mediocrity forbidden.
Terror within the depths of each
Child drives them to strive for
What they cannot reach - to sit
Atop the bar as a picture perfect star
In celebrity they can only beseech.

Most will not achieve the
Image they need, but will
Continue to seek a way to assimilate,
Despite the cost, the consequence,
The time, the diligence, all of which
Are wasted in the pursuit to transofrm
Into something distorted and untrue.

Perhaps they'll turn to options unnatural,
Traveling to places within themselves
They did not know could exist, for they
Cannot resist the compelling urge to get
Their name on the list of high-ranking
People - those that are longed for and cool,
All the while they're only in school,
Unaware that if they had the guts to dare
To abstain, they'd laugh at the rest
When self-worth became the thing to obtain.

They give up their sense of self
To morph and deform into just another
Soldier in the army of pathetic pretty people.
Contentment within is not nearly enough, so
It is cortizone and silicone they use to
Buffer up, to augment their pride.

I can no longer hide my unhappiness
And discontent with what I see.
The sight is disgusting, while shocking,
Enraging beyond belief.
I do not, and will not, understand the
Motive behind leading a life ignorant and
Blind, a life of false hope, false image,
False desire, while I attempt to aspire
In this world in which success means
Selling myself to become someone else.

I am an outlier on the chart that
Maps my society, lying far from
The rest, and it's something I refuse to detest.
All I wish is for them to extrapolate,
Not so that I am removed from their presence,
But so that they are gone from my every sense,
So I cannot see the destruction of individuality,
So I cannot hear the talk of fake reality,
Nor smell the cloud of manufactured scent that
Engulfs their complacent mentality.
Leave me out of this distorted desire,
So that I may rest easy knowing
I am true to myself.

The Foolish Genius

You foolish failure! For that’s all you’ll be
If you continue to madly deny
The things you feel inside nonchalantly.
For if, in youth, you do not ever ply
The waters of love, rebuff, of joy, and
Of grief, your vessel will in age be
Caught in whirlpools of regret, trapped on the sands
Of sad naïveté, marooned for all eternity.
Speak not against the fools who “fall” in love;
No, rather speak of their rise, their entrance
Into real life, leaving behind your stance
And its one-sided view that you’re so proud of.
And when you finally see this, you’ll be truly smart,
Finally seeing the logic in following your heart.


(You claim to make the wiser move,
To be the better-off in the end,
But you have no concept, you can’t comprehend
The experience, and the value thereof.

So don’t even begin to criticize,
Speak not in condescending tone,
For soon e’en you will realize
How hollow is the good of being alone.)

Heads or Tails

The modern world one major problem fights:

Today, men are controlled by smaller heads,

As the three branches wrest away our right

To make decisions, and do so instead

Themselves. They follow pathos, not the mind,

Executive espousing instant joys,

The Meccanized Insurgency now finds

Itself aligned with Christians to destroy

The awful influence of this regime.

It often uses mercenaries’ aid,

Just gazing on their shining shells, it seems,

They don’t attempt to help; just to get paid.

To disobey would be a crime: pure treason;

A compromise we must find, ‘tween pathos and reason.

Dead Long Ago

Standing single file
In an endless line,
Watching, waiting
For an elusive sign.

Inch along
With no concern.
Do what they say,
Just work and earn.

Keep your head down,
Do not look around.
For profit is key,
More important than you or me.
Then the thing hits you
With shocking brunt:
Just what you are
In this deceitful stunt.

You're no more than
An ant among ants,
Putting forth effort in
A workingman's trance.

And it dawns on you
That you've got nothing to show.
You work with no purpose,
Dead long ago.

You're a slave to men
That you've never seen.
Submissed to a life
Straight, narrow, and clean.

What ever happened to the
Dreams on which you once fed,
Those dreams destroyed by the
Mental "bullet in your head."

Reflections from the Deck

Although it may seem mighty, great, and grand
The sun can only move the thermostat.
The ocean makes the very mountains flat,
Reducing them to naught but mud and sand.
When sitting on the deck and gazing out,
The dawn of night out here instills no pain
Because when the sun sets the sea remains,
Providing comfort and relieving doubt.
And my reflections have led me to see:
To fall into the fire is no shame,
For when you burn you rise above the flame,
Permitting you a great view of the sea.
Escaping the small fire is quite nice
Because it's put out quick with deep blue ice.

Great Glasses

The one is azure and the other's blue,
Both outlined softly by the scattered white,
(Divided only by horizon's slight
Smooth curve) and both, empyreal, renew
The senses too. And both conceal within
Themselves far more than what could meet the eye.
Indeed, their calm smooth surfaces belie
The depths and heights that on the two begin:
The colored clusters and the big bright stars,
And more, beyond the many kinds of rays.
I hope, as beautiful as these two are,
That I will ne'er disturb their calm displays.
These two great glasses as a pair I love
As they reflect great beauty from Above.

Estuary

A storm begins to brew
In a dark purple sky.
Battle is imminent,
Which none can deny.

My powerful waves thrash
With salty, swiriling might,
As your fierce freshwater fury
Is very present on site.

There is no escape
From what is to come,
'Pitted rivals' serves
As a suitable sum.

Our currents build swiftly
With equivalent force.
We both are wary of the other,
And the other's challenge we both endorse.

The sky rumbles
As we begin to clash.
Your waves and mine
Mightily begin to crash.

We meet in the middle with
Unsurmountable rage,
Two destined foes fit
For this perfect stage.

My waves are big,
And current strong.
I have the edge,
You've sung your song.

But to my unpleasant suprise
You seem to match my threat.
The salt of my self seeps
Into you and I begin to fret.

To each other
We are equal.
It seems now there
Will be no sequel.

For the sky begins to clear,
Turning a pretty shade of blue,
Neither gains ground,
No matter what we choose to do.

The sea is calm
On each side.
Something new forms
After you and I collide.

This new liquid is neither
Wholy I, nor wholy you,
But a mixture of us both
That nature herself did brew.

All spite is gone,
All hatred dispersed.
We have seen it through,
Past the very worst.

You and I are
One in the same,
And to this scene
We both stake claim.

Not submission, but compromise.
Not dissent, but respect.
No regret, but satisfaction.

The water is flat,
Opinions don't vary.
We rest in peace in
Our mutual estuary.

Remember the Day

I sit still
With my hands tied.
I feel nothing,
Deep down inside.

You smirk and laugh
At what I do,
But the day will come
When your fun is through.

For now, I reamain
Unmoving and numb,
Tomorrow you'll marvel
At what I've become.

You say I run
From what I should be,
But you're just scared
Of what I could be.

I say to you,
You ignorant fool
That I am wiser
Than you are cruel.

I have no doubt you'll find suprise
After the time it takes to realize
Just how thick is your demise,
As your pupils widen within your eyes
And you take in your life of lies.

Now there is no smile
Upon your dumb face,
Just confused question
And dismal disgrace.

Yet I don't laugh,
But shake my head,
For you have fallen
To a land of dread.

There is no escape
From your undying arrogance.
The tables have turned,
You have no chance.

And when you beg for help
In a purely pathetic way,
I'll only smile softly and
Tell you to remember the day.

Coins

Exteriors are made
To lead you on.
They present false shades
That are often wrong.

Interiors are where
Truths make their homes,
Often hidden there,
Under a toughened dome.

Because inside us all,
Exists a coin.
It rises and falls,
When thoughts join.
The coin is flipped
In the case of contradiction.
It can be biased, to one side tipped,
But no matter what, it keeps on flippin'.

It is propelled by
The many emotions,
Which through our head fly,
That come with each notion.

It flips and flips,
We see it in our eyes.
Each decision nips
At a result we only surmise.

Heads... or tails,
It can only be one.
One prevails,
The other is done.

But in the end,
We know the decision isn't fair.
It's all pretend,
Not like the coin's unflawed pair.

The decisions we make
Are not made by destiny,
But rather the knowledge we take
And apply to conditions presently.

So put down your coins,
Because nothing is chance.
Everything is choice,
That, which is told through your voice.

Some things will happen
For unexplained reasons.
But more often than not
It's because of what you believe in.

Farewell Address

"First published by Braden Beaudreau on 5/8/10"


Hello.
We meet again. How elusive you are!
No weapon but a pathetic pint of passion?
Maybe we can talk for a bit. Or
Maybe I could
Walk away from you forever.

I’d like to hear your story. Better yet,
I’d like to hear your reason;
Immediate infatuation.
I laugh at your facade of forged feelings.

Ah, but you are void of reason!
Like a spiraling, swirling black hole;
Truth may enter,
Never leaving, only heaving
Relieving, unfounded
Deceptions.

Lifelessly pumping preconceived premonitions
Through an empty pipeline
Leading straight past my heart
Just to splatter all over the wall.

Look at the mess you made.
Defying the laws of logic!
Roots do not grow here!
Stepping foot into a desolate desert,
A frigid mountain miles away,
Only to reach a deep, dark, descending
Ocean of dead desires.

Scrutinizing your very essence,
What are you but a smoke-covered mirror?
We live to see, understand, feel the truth,
Yet you can only see you,
That epitome of self none can ever see.

Forceful, but futile,
You’re up to no good.
Concocting a tonic
Fabricating, exaggerating
Something
That was never


there


it is, flying
far
away

forever

A Monument to the Act of Failed Planting

"First posted by Braden Beaudreau on 3/31/10"


Lush jungles, enveloping weeds
Cannot swallow this Rock alive,
Brawny Boulder, lord of land,
Weather cannot take its toll.

Those strumpet fields, so easy,
Too easy. Eternal roots plant selfish seeds,
What becomes of a plain, desolate dust?
Fertility, temporary, resilience, forever.

Even the crusty Slabs of earth allow time to seep,
Dive deep into porous vessels like channeling veins,
Very foundation uprooted as life,
As it actually is, begins.

But that Promontory on which it stands,
That inching Crag, gripping sky higher,
No greenery exists there. Too cold, they say,
No soil. They die as soon as they vow to stay.

What of the stout shrub?
As soon as its fibers of being cross into the Rocky pores,
Instant failure, no comfort but company of loss.
That stark Mountain, shares no consolation.

Foolish flower, do you now see why your quest has failed?
Reaching evermore for
Something
That was
Never

There

And so it stands tall, Granite colossus, towering above the rest,
Free from the wrath of weeds of weaklings.
Serves as a beacon, steel sides,
Impenetrable, Impermeable, Unbreakable,
As a Stone,


alone


nothing to atone.

A Fleeting Meeting

"First published by Braden Beaudreau on 2/27/10"


Waiting impatiently next to a gate,
Thinking of you and your absence. Fearing
The worst, time aging slowly, so late, late
Is the hour. Hold; What am I hearing?

A shout in the distance, over the hill,
Beaming brown eyes and a smile so wide,
We ran to each other, oh, what a thrill!
She caught my eye and I caught her in stride.

There is that moment of undying bliss.
Synchronized hearts, with the order of ants.
And then like a switch, emotions amiss,
Some words, a leaving, a glance - not a chance.

Why, how could such a glorious meeting
Be joyous and tender, yet so fleeting?