Saturday, November 19, 2011

Mental Masturbation

Guest Author: Bryanna Weiche

As an obligation to ourselves, we must create
Otherwise the toxins of idleness
Slowly build up inside.
It will spread through you like a disease
Paralyzing your senses and numbing your emotions
Until all you feel is what others tell you to feel.
Your motivations slip through your fingers
You find solace in others
Telling yourself that you're still worth something.
The blank canvas decays
And the empty pages rot.
Your mind stalls like the engine of a car
With nowhere to go
And no one giving the driver directions.
If you're as good as you say you are,
Then the hardest part is not thinking of what to write
It's not depicting your ephemeral muse
But rather picking up your preferred utensil of creativity.
No one ever explicitly said that mental masturbation was bad
So go ahead
Rub one out
Release that toxin
And who knows
You might even create something worthwhile.

Sunday, November 13, 2011


Dedicated to: Jen S: You're the gift. Best wishes, always!

Grab my vial,

watch me pour out
your soul.
A lake of chemical excrement;
toxic biotics in black-tie tuxes
know just
as the holy one-armed junkie
that your soul is sold.
Bought by a laboratory
to cook the perfect confection.
Not Ecstacy,
not even Heaven,
but Love with a glass of water.

Take twice daily
as needed for withdrawal
from the human connection.
Side effects may include
but are never limited to:
Reliance on devices that flash& Vibrate,
Irritability, Listlessness, a lackluster nature, etc.,
don’t worry;

You Are Already Dead

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Osama bin Blah blah

No one alive and conscious is unaware of what happened on September 11th, 2001. It was a devastating moment in New York history, a bizarre moment for National history and a moment that shook the world, yet it is minor when compared to other catastrophes in Earth’s history. Nearly a decade later, on May 1st, the man claimed to be responsible for this atrocity was executed. The president of the United States released a statement the following day that briefly mentioned Osama bin Laden’s murder but quickly diverted his speech to the event commonly known as 9/11 as well as the repercussions the country faced; his statement was seemingly of National closure rather than the execution at hand.

Osama bin Laden was apparently a man who had many estranged bed-fellows throughout his life but I really don’t care for the man’s politics and eventually we would have to talk about 9/11 (the truth will eviscerate inevitably, conspiracy theorists) and I’d rather let bygone’s be bygones; Forget the Alamo! Osama was apparently diabetic, cancerous and aging; perhaps not old but he was well past his prime. Not to mention his dialysis treatments, speculate all you want but it was fairly apparent that the man had kidney ailments, that coupled with any cancer or diabetes is grounds for an early and expected death. It also means the necessitation of prescribed medicine and regular specified medical attention from a specific medical practitioner. The man was dying anyway. Hence, his death is meaningless, if you can see the bigger picture rather than what is merely presented to you via your favourite media outlet.

Al Qaeda is still in existence, far as we know or can assume. His death and the subsequent murder of his family members will only entice his unabashed follower’s to loathsome driven anger; will probably cause retaliation that could have been easily avoided entirely. Understand, I am not disheartened or upset that Osama is dead; I was not for the man’s existence, in any fashion. But considering that he was a dying entity and the US has observed peace on its own soil, at least from foreign attackers, he living his very shortened out life, while the US government could have spent that money on anything; education, for example or even space travel. When was the last time we put a man or monkey on another planet, just to say we did it? We explored a foreign piece of our galaxy, personally. Even putting another man on the moon would be a major feat of accomplishment, at this point. The money is abundantly available and even whilst in debt, the US should probably choose its expenditures a little more prudently.

Just to think ten years later the man responsible is caught and killed. As though the memory was beginning to fade and the nation was settling back into its comfort of just being. But instead, they have amped up the Security Threat level, inadvertently jacked up the price of gasoline and traded goods, and reminded us all of the turmoil citizens of the USA faced, then. I was asked if I knew anyone who was affected by the attacks ten years ago and I said no, being a naturalized citizen as of 2010 from South Africa, I have only been here since December 2002. Perhaps that’s why I’m so unbiased on the issue or the vengeance plot; I’ve never had anyone in my life be affected by a man-caused disaster, not consciously, anyway.

I view life as a perennial process that goes on with and without you, as George sang. Sure, I will grieve and mourn someone whom I had grown close to but I would not seek vengeance on whatever terminated his or her life. I would probably avoid whatever it was, in all honesty, however if perchance I were to confront and, let’s say “punish”, whatever took my loved one away, I would gladly be obliged in doing so despite whatever consequences await.

My understanding is: let bygones be bygones, let it be and let life continue as it will.

RIP Osama bin Laden (March 10th, 1957 – May 1st, 2011)

Wednesday, March 02, 2011

Thought Training

Sometimes, I forget where I am,
In time, or out of tune,
I can see the world around me,
Go around me.
Revolving, slowly,
Like the barrel of slack shot revolver.

Sometimes, I lose myself in a train of thought,
Only to see that I’ve landed in Grand Central.
Each train unique: a specific conductor,
The crew and their personalities,
And finally, the passengers,
Their value, by sheer weight.

Now think about Chaos:
Frequent occurrences of mindlessness:
Unharnessed, it is so easily and carnally satisfied,
Stuck with the frustration of living
With conscious limitations.

But to best this Chaos,
To command and guide each thought,
To nurture an idea, to witness progress,
to find the destination.
To find where the tracks end; if its tracks end at all.

Ultimately, some tracks cross,
Others fail, and there are always delays,
Time lost, sometimes found
But space is there, sometimes uncomfortable,
But there is always the last stop.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Night Skies

Looking up at the moon,
My moon, the moon you see,
Our moon.

Often we see the cotton wool clouds,
Clearing the orb we all see in wonder.
I often wander to what lay on the other side.

The dark-side, the abyss,
Lost to our consciousness,
Filling our desires to know,
To understand and grasp.

Beyond our reach; our hands
will raise to touch the intangible.
To feel a unifying world
That isn’t ours.

We look up and see emptiness,
Scarred by the spotted stars,
Dotted by the Moon,
The single most eminent being
In which we hold the highest esteem.

I look up and see our sky,
Etched by the sliver or waned white marble,
Only to know that somewhere,
On this planet I call home,
That someone is also glimpsing upward,
Seeing a magnanimous identity we have yet to meet.

Our visits have been marred by selfishness,
Stabbing a flag into its pure and unperturbed surface,
But we know it is not for us,
It is our reminder that we,
Mankind, belong here,

For now, anyway.

Where we may go, when we may go,
Our moon will be there, revolving and moving along,
Undisturbed and unchanged, while
Our lunar dreams will always be a fancy:
A willful want to reach an inevitable demur.

Listen to me now, telling you to look.
To see the moon that we both have loved and considered,
Neglected and forgotten, misunderstood and oft ignored.

I see it, I see the moon.
I see that, just as it has brought waves of consciousness to you,
It has brought waves to our Earth.

I see that it has made us lunatics,
Wanting the impossible.

In our sanity, we will find reality,
We will find our place,
Our existence will fit and we will learn to love,
Here, There and Everywhere.

P.S. Click here to hear the spoken word recording. Recorded and engineered by Andrew Bregman.

Night Skies - words by Kiran Gordhan 2/11 by bregman

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Universal Truth

Co-author: Nicholas Greenleaf

hether we, as a species, live or die, fail or flourish, is of no consequence.

The night sky is slowly disappearing. While gases accumulate, trapping heat and trashing the ecosystem which has maintained equilibrium for millennia, the oceans will rise while what land remains will become increasingly inhospitable to our presence upon it. To say that humanity’s ultimate agenda is self-termination allots us too much credit; we simply plunge blindly, heedlessly, onward, and one day we will haplessly hurtle off of a cliff.

Despite the fortune of mankind’s constitution, the apathetic machinery of the cosmos will continue unerringly. The stars will remain scattered across the galaxy like spilled glitter on a child’s art project. Nebulas will condense into new solar systems and gravity will exert its inexorable pull. Even after this planet has wearied of and annihilated us, it will remain tilted on its axis, simply gyrating in space until it is devoured by the supernova of a dying star.

A single sperm achieves insemination, countless others die. A single planet happens to support carbon-based life, countless others do not. Albeit, statistically improbable but statistically inevitable, nonetheless. We look at an apparently empty cosmos, our species seemingly peerless, and see the whims of divinity, of some greater purpose or design, in our being and in our capacity to reflect upon that absurd circumstance. We do not see the countless failures that were necessary to allow for the conditions which created humankind: A flawless process of indifferent and iterative trial-and-error.

We have come to understand this process as evolution. Blindly enamoured with our consciousness, the carefully constructed card castles of genetic traits and conditioned behaviours we deem as the “identity,” we fail to recognize that natural selection does not give a damn about the individual. We feed, fight and fornicate so that certain traits may be passed on; so that, gradually, mankind may be refined, able to adapt, and endure. Our greatest mistake is to believe that, because we have identities, our identities are inherently significant in the grand scheme of the Universe. Even if a god created the cosmos, what could personal responsibility and moral autonomy mean to an entity that causes galaxies to collide while our precious morality cannot even be extended beyond ourselves.

Whether we, as a species, live or die, fail or flourish, is of no consequence. This is both the beauty and the terror of a universe devoid of consciousness. We may take comfort in the knowledge that the apparent tragedies and turbulence of our lives are transient and meaningless. We may find freedom from superstition, from fictitious factions and petty strife. We may find terror and cling to our false idols, Purpose, Destiny, and Necessity like a monkey mistaking a doll of wire and fur for its mother. We see the dark universe yawning, for better or for worse. But in reality, it is neither: good and evil will be extinguished with us, leaving the universe simply to be.