The Collected Works of ThatWhichIs

[ThatWhichIs]

So, I'll use this thread to post some of my older poems, as well as ones I write not specifically for the idea thread I also started. Questions and comments are welcome!

To start with, here's a personal favorite of mine:

A Rose By Any Other Name Would Still Taste Like Chicken

Oh sweet lady, my sweet

terrible muse. My sanity has claimed me

stolen from thy ever-shifting embrace, that

deliciously purple thing. Tasting

of wondrous love, smelling like pure

hatred, spiked with orange and green

Oh lady Madness, why hast thou deserted

your most studious pupil?

Thrown away like a badger

on the backs of mad giants (who’d chase after?) or

pink-yellow love in a frothing sea

For there is a method to mine

hidden pattern-spider designs in life-chaos

buried deep

Trying to shed them, slip free from curse called

sanity

Oh Madness, lady mine

You I will hold yet again!

~+~

(EDIT) So, apparently this thing doesn't like my various spaces... given that this one is as much visual as it is verbal, I will need to attach it or something...

An Argument With Myself

To the always watching, ever-busy

You’re always so violent

busy-body always poking his nose into other people’s business

so distrustful, hate-filled

SHUT THE HELL UP!

Who cut your fuse so short?

Seriously!

Your eyes always see

Take a damn chill-pill and learn

Things which were never there

when the hell to stay outta my business

and your mind is constantly jumping

your constant watching is making me want to

racing forwards to conclusions

blow up some pointless little third-world country

false and damning

and laugh as the land burns

I don’t try to upset you

You make me

Or constantly watch over you

want to trigger

my goal

Armageddon

isn’t to play Big Brother

early!

I only wish to protect you

So again, need I continue yelling

Help shield you from

Or has your mile-thick skull

reality

finally understood my damned message?

and all the atrocious things

I swear!

glaciers move faster than you think!

that live

Ye freakin’ gods, man!

and thrive

Any more of this

within this world

and I swear I’ll start World War Three…

~+~

Before There Was A Beginning

Before there was a beginning

in the infinite blackness

there was nothing and everything

at a single point

In the infinite blackness

there was a commotion

at a single point

with a light unseen

There was a commotion

of terrible power

with a light unseen

that launched time into motion

Of terrible power

incomprehensible by men

that launched time into motion

jump-started reality

Incomprehensible by men

the forge of Creation

jump-started reality

and then led to us

The forge of Creation

set probabilities spinning

and then led to us

from unknown math

Set probabilities spinning

energy racing

from unknown math

causing it all to wind down

Energy racing

all becomes equal

causing it all to wind down

everything resets

All becomes equal

before there was a beginning

everything resets

there was nothing and everything

~+~

Villainess Villanelle

Their midnight dress and billowing cloak

and those mad, flashing eyes

they’re so nineteen-sixties

As they pace the cat-walks

yelling at their minions, clad in

their midnight dress and billowing cloak

Down below those crazed minions crackle maniacally

as they prepare their evil draughts for the world

they’re so nineteen-sixties

The mastermind’s manifold plans unfold

like the steely petals of some diabolical flower, as they wear

their midnight dress and billowing cloak

With henchmen scrambling all around

as the overlord plots in their secret lair

they’re so nineteen-sixties

All of this because of some early slight

they chose to don

their midnight dress and billowing cloak.

They’re so nineteen-sixties…

~+~

Thought Fox Rising

Deep, eternal darkness, like

the pure dark of pre-Creation eternity

Infinite

but warm, embracing, like

At first, a pinprick,

a welling up of light, brilliant and

blazing.

It laughs,

defiance in the face of the dark

In the face of placidity

Growing in the distance

a form

Rising from nothing, from everything

shaping itself

giving birth to its own life

by force of will, by desire

The thought-fox rising,

yawning in new-minted awareness,

looks about itself

grinning at the darkness

Spotting an invisible rise

it pounces

bringing another light into

the infinite same-ness

Another rise.

Another light.

Illuminating vast traceries of

spider-silk strands

stretching out in all directions

weaving and twisting

spiraling

turning, lighting other points

in the distance, other nodes.

Fox, laughing

Jumping and spinning

Dancing on the synapses

on fleeting thoughts, pouncing

launching itself

towards hidden memories

teasing them to brilliance

A silvery, flashing shape

darting across

fading black potential changing

into bright, gleaming reality

Bringing awareness to

the now-stirring mind

A silver mist

receding before the thought-fox

~+~

The Myriad Forms of the Octopus

Among the teaming multitudes

that swarm along the ocean floor

sits the octopus, rock patient.

A sea of stillness

shattered

by an explosion of ink and flashing octopus.

My mind wanders in all directions

reaching out towards the eight compass points

like the questing arms

of the ever-curious octopus.

The octopus shifts and reforms itself

fading out of sight

and into my mind-scape.

An octopus and a fish

is satisfied.

Two octopi and a fish

get into a fight.

Barnacles encrust the rusting iron

of decrepit, sunken warships

terrified minnows

flash in the darkness

as the looming, tentacle shadow

that is octopus

rises.

Ink stains crystal waters.

Octopus must be fleeing.

A screwed jar containing

some succulent morsel

is expertly pried apart

by the self-aware limbs

of the octopus.

Why did the old people

revere the sharks and the whales?

among those fish and lesser mammals

the octopus is as a god.

As they descended into the

dark, watery depths

fear invaded their soggy minds

that every fish they saw was

an octopus.

Master of disguise

the silent stalker of prey

all who swim

pray to never not-see

the dreaded mimic octopus.

Its three hearts

beating out a trifecta tempo

the love-struck octopus

seeks its mate.

Blue rings flashing

the octopus

ensnares its foe

in an ever-tightening net

of crushing, venomous death.

~+~

The Batman - Another View

Do you need proof

of Man’s supreme skill at sin

of our ability to overcome

odds most foul

and in doing so, become the most foul?

Do you need proof

of our obsession with the physical

greed which knows no bounds

a burning, twisting desire

towards all that glitters?

Do you need proof

of how our pride will drown us

in arrogance and blinding greed

we will ignore the signs

and seal our own fate?

Here is your proof

it’s all around you

permeating the very fabric

of every-day life

in the way we act and live

Here is your proof

in our gilded and mangled

image of beauty

in the way we abuse ourselves

to become that “beauty”

[ThatWhichIs]

Lady History

A loud cry

wailing in the dawn,

small, tender hand reaching

pulls herself into the light,

Child kneeling on the rocky shore, the

twig in their hand

scrapes and drags

through wet sand, forming

pictures, symbols

They rise

and the world rises with them

giants of stone brick, shouldering aside

the raw sand and dirt

forming graceful larches

grand halls

sweeping colonnades

A great wind

howling like a thousand

caged demons

blasts those halls, those

pillars of enforced might

Sends them crashing down

Sends the girl running, mindless

into caves, to huddle

venturing outside only briefly,

only for the smallest amount

fearing retribution

from above

She carves

into those damp walls

carving mockeries

of the palace that once was

the palace from dreams, and memory

Digging deeper

always deeper

cavern floor stained red

by the sharp rocks

And deep within, enclosed

by long-dead stone,

the growing child rediscovers wonder

rediscovers faith

in the gleaming metal she finds

the black, bubbling liquid

covering herself, helps her

to ignore the pain from digging

as she slowly, meticulously

bends the metal to her will

Silence had descended upon the surface

rain drips into the roughly carved, red floor

from deep within comes a scratch

and another, and another

and the girl, now

a young woman, returns

metal clinging to her

sealing old wounds and causing new

as she hauls machine

after machine

out from the depths,

burning gaze fixed upon the sky

Upon the stars she claims as her own.