What Choice Do We Have?

Dark, The Stout is surprising
Light -Mrs getting mardy over
Shades of Meaning -lost
Love -The opposite of
Hate – The reason we are all
Late – No point in being
Early -No point in turning
Up – The way of the stars
Down -Where we all go
Life – What we are given
Death – What choice do we have?

The World

Big, square shaped, like a cube
That’s Billy my fifteen-year-old.
Slow, boring infinitely repeating
That’s Billy My Sixteen Year old
Large, Full of…
Well, I think we can assume young Billy is growing up, or sideways if you prefer.

The world is infinitely large or small, caring or indifferent depending on who you are;
In front of you lies a thousand or a million possibilities;
In so much as a whisper, your fortune can change
and this comes from one who has known for so long
as much as can be is only limited by what we see.

If you see the world as turning too fast then it will rarely if ever slow down
If you see the world as ugly then you will only see the grotesque;
If you see the world as kindly then you may be blind to cruelty;
If you see the world as sad then you may never ever be happy.

Insoluable in oxygen is this mystery; whereupon was found hate and greed
and misogyny.

Perhaps there is too much to see and better off blinded are we
to the folding of compromise and how it reflects on ourselves on others, we care about.

Nigh is the King we crown when given the Royal Ring did say ‘ A ring for all, so all may sway’ Over and under the trolls bridge today.

Power it may be only held for a day but the memory persists like
pebbles in a stream not worn away from countless tries of the coldest water.

Be a pebble and persist in the gloom, in the mist. When it is darkest.

Away from here goes the crow. Didst thou see it grow? And sulphur from it’s beak glow burning yellow in the night?

The crones babble like the shallowest brook and catch its fish on their belial hooks.

A Young man is foolish, Let him learn at our pleasure they moan into their cauldron casting spells. Belial fortune they crown not men from the town.

It’s a lonely path said the psychopath blind in one eye and just scraping by.
It’s a golden road said the bewitched toad.
It’s a storm of Shit said Belial poking me in the eye.

Winding breaking off at places into the unknown is where you will find it.

What you are looking for. A Ha. A Ha. A Ha ha ha!

You may find it.

Is life a particle or a wave

Sometimes O Great One I wonder about the small things

Of washing up and perception and knowledge and reality

Then I get back to the minefield that is my emotions and relationships and feelings

This is why I like to live alone, So I can devote my time to the perception of life!

So many ways of being unhappy yet with happy news sprinkled over like icing sugar

Is the cupcake sad or happy it will be devoured or dropped on the floor or thrown away like spoiled food?

Is the sugar spilled on the floor guilty or is it purely circumstantial to the eye that spies ants?

But what of the protagonist of this tale life? Guilty or innocent? How can something like life force be either, or both simultaneously?

Shouldn’t we focus on the actions, not words, evidence, not the intention?

If life is a particle or a wave? It’s meh!

When I always end up at the same place.

It’s life’s velocity that brought me here, or that took me there claims I,

Not the birds in the trees or the scent on a breeze say I,

I am guilty yes, guilty of being innocently in love with you; and me,

Me thinks I can do without your love for I am perfectly well.

As a particle life shoots you my love atoms through tiny gaps, they bounce off back to me,

As a wave life shoots my love waves through many empty spaces and they reflect back onto me like a love envelope trap.

Am I invisible?

And only you can see?

It’s impossible to be more like you when the shadow is so large, my shadow, your light blinding me imperceptibly.

And the light comes from you but not from me, only shadow and shade.

I hate myself I want it to end.

I want to end me for the shadow is so large around me.

I can’t see that the shadow is so large because I am so close to you, but the light is too bright.

I shade my eyes afraid to see.

I walk around like this blinded to what is real and what is in me.

Until one day when I will see.

One day I will knock myself out and my lover will be there to doctor me

back to health, but that’s not reality because in reality nothing gets through to me.

There is space around me like an exclusion zone where only the allowed

interactions take place, where allowed transactions take place, where allowed actions have reactions, where science lives where cupcakes cheer things up, where I live.

Why there should be another place is moot. It is real in my mind and such is also my reality or realities. It’s where I met you and we settled down to happiness and gay was my friend, not my enemy.

How can something so powerful have been swept under the carpet to exist there with spiders and dust mite and dander when it shook me to the very foundations of myself, my body and soul? Like Fireworks gone damp. I am wet paper and the ink runs off me, words and with it, truth.

If we can stand together hand in hand maybe we can polarise opinion again, enjoy laughs and happy endings with a grimace and a groan for we are so much better at being alone. But together light and me are like chalk and cheese, one solid one phenomenologically different, one mind , one heart, one soul grasping at one particle or wave or both.