How The World Ends (Thanks TS Eliot)

You've heard it said, "You are what you eat." I read once that similarly, "What you study you become." - That being said, if you read the last post ('Bang Bang') you'll have a broader scope when reading this one.

I wrote this last night. The first verse was about a week ago? or Tuesday? It's been hectic lately - regardless, the melody and music and first verse was down, then after a difficult day at work yesterday, the pent up steam fogged up my computer screen and my mind traced these lyrics in it's wake. What you study you become. I don't know, I believe I've been a romantic from day one, but maybe that's what I studied without knowing it. The lens of a lover, my songs are all about one thing. Thank goodness for Shakespeare's encouragement, " So all my best is dressing old words new, Spending again what is already spent: For as the sun is daily new and old, So is my love still telling what is told" - Sonnet 76

Love, love of God, love of work, love of anything and everything, and often the flip side of love...not hate - fear - and the subsequent pain it carries with it.

Like I even think the whole point of salvation is to get ever closer (on this wild ride) to having a Bold heart - a childlike heart. I am clearly digressing. It's been a while since I've had time to write anything on here. The yell into the echo. My dance someone may, or may not watch - who am I even talking to? Do I talk to myself this way? It's important to know your audience, but I don't think anyone can quite define that - the internet is a fairly open forum (for now), and someone may or may not look - who knows who the audience is? Maybe we're all just writing for ourselves hmmm? Or maybe we can also say we're all concordantly consumers - the consumer culture, the great leviathan of a Post-Modern Capitalistic mentality?

A bachelors in Philosophy - it's embarrassing, humbling I guess. If they offered it I think I would've taken Theology first - even Journalism (but it's all "mass communications" now) - and with a Bachelors in Philosophy I get to take a foriegn language and also it counts towards getting an MBA...and I could use the education in Philosophy anyway. So here's my song - do you remember that's what I was going to post?

How The World Ends (Thanks TS Eliot)

Gold hair spun to beauty easy/ Time & time again you please me/ Care to hear the world as I see/ You got it baby

Try & try but it's not workin'/ Necktied slaves and vultures circlin'/ Breakin' & buying this drudgery/ You know why baby?

'Cause this is how our world ends/ This is how our world ends/ This is how our world ends - Not with a bang/ Oh not with a bang/ But in poetry.

Words you say make all the difference/ Like a child whose raised on kisses/ Leave my mouth starving in apathy/ Baby

Give me only future unseen/ Not sure a' life & what it means/ These arguments are so futile to me/ baby

Cause this is how the world ends/ This is how the world ends/ This is how the world ends/ Not with a bang/ Oh not with a bang/ But with poetry.

Bang Bang

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

- T.S. Eliot [The Hollow Men, stan. V]

Exodus

I need a silent true-way to admire.
Like you as a sunset, and I as a wildfire.
And I can let the day go...

I've locked up these words, in fear that I'd say them wrong.
Is it love as a mountain, or love as a simple song?
And the moment that the two meet
has now laid itself at your feet.

And love is not convenient; it does not cease at your command.
You might take and leave it, but love is all I am.
Love is all I am.

I need a boundless, soft way to commend
Like you as a temper, and I as it's tender end.
And however long your fits last
I will live within your shadow cast.

And love is still your stranger; it does not respect how much you'll stand
You might be love's reminder, but love is all I am.
Love is all am.

I need a graceful, proud way to let go
To smile and accept the things that you don't know
The losses and the gains blurred
The weight of these as last words

And love is not excitement; it's not kissing, or holding hands
I'm not some assignment; no, love is all I am
Love is all I am.
Love is all I am

- Dawes, from the album 'North Hills'

Resurrection

"Fellow-suffering! Fellow-suffering with the higher men!" he cried out, and his countenance changed into brass. "Well, that has had its time! My suffering and my fellow-suffering - what matter about them! Do I then strive after happiness? I strive after my work! Well! The lion has come, my children are near, Zarathustra has grown ripe, my hour has come. This is my morning, my day begins: arise now, arise, you great noontide!"

Thus spoke Zarathustra and left his cave, glowing and strong, like a morning sun coming out of gloomy mountains.

- Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

More Madness in Part and pieces of the preface.

The philosophy of Madness derived from a Spirituality of Madness which I propose, meets continually new proponents long before my time.

This does not surprise me, but the frequency to which the world has been echoing this, and the lack to which most have adopted this sincerely does surprise me, or at least make me curious.

To a point I can empathize with this lack of adoption - Madness is not necessarily easy or even consistently pleasurable; it's a constant work in progress and Madness often just become chaos in the wrong hands.

"Method is the wall between Madness & Chaos" - The Madman Laughs at Everything, 13:17

The amazing part is that everyone is already within this framework - each as crazy as the next. Unity is the correct key, however we have thus far been jamming it in all the wrong locks...

Unity found in an acceptance of personal and thus one another's Madness will lead to magnificence for the human condition - magnificence as freedom, and a wild freedom of self; not a chaotic loss of structure, or even a chaotic structure, but Madness, in all it's fresh, pliable, and reliable glory.

The last chapter in my book is a series of quotes about Madness ranging through the centuries. A smattering of philosophical and spiritual paint that function as abstract art forming a rough representation of the philosophy and spirituality of Madness - of which, in form, only an abstraction can be made anyhow.

Here's some of the colors I'll be dripping and sliding across the canvas; some of the ancient paints...aaaannnd Happy Sunday.

"There was never a genius without some tincture of madness" - Aristotle

"There is no great genius without some touch of madness" - Seneca

Mirrors

Some of you are odd.