Matter Over Mind (an end to a means)

you knew me before I did
I always knew behind my eyes
I would never die
yet I was not alive
until I died

I came shooting up the place

fresh out of an embryonic horror

matter over mind

it was glory

revolution story

making fine gestures of

artistic sacrament

holy indulgent

dancing on the edge

of that black hole

made for one hell of an

astronaut glide

shit slide

inside

the vacuum

sucking my brain

twisted my fight

tight

into yesterday without

understanding

what then done

now would have none

I am not here
you are not there
I am nowhere

I am everywhere

I am one of the lone billions

seeking significance in a bottle

stained with the star spangled jet stream ground zero of vacant medicines

heart sealed with a fist

I’m a beggar

and pride is a thief

in my time of dying

the pain that reigns

is change

delusion seeks the seeker of the void
who seeks the void to inhabit a vacuum?
to surround themselves with nothing
as if to strive for nothing means everything
but in a vacuum
everything IS nothing!
to attain everything one must become as nothing

enslaved in freedom of
senses
senseless freedom
driven to nowhere
through the chase
you’re already there
beyond what you know
by the thought that
blows your mind
be still and grow

an end to a means


Written by Scott Schoffstall
© January 14, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

Listening

the geese left today

I saw them on their way
in chevron flight
left to right
honking like traffic
just moments ago

what made them go
what was different today
than yesterday

what que spoke to one
then another and another
why didn’t one just say
“hey I don’t feel like it dude, chillax”

somehow on a particular moment
of a particular day
something spoke to one
and off they went

flying over head

yes they’ve done this before
does the head goose have a watch
and a calendar
does he say “yo, it’s October 4th
and it’s 6:34pm Eastern Standard Time
let’s split”
and everyone just says “cool man”

You think they have an instrument
to measure exactly how long the sun
stays in the sky

well let’s see
yesterday it was there in the sky
until 6:35pm EST
gotta go

instinct
what’s instinct
yes the goose before this one did
and the one before that one too
who was first and who did it before

when will they come back
you think they know something we don’t
or do you think they just listen better

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© October 04, 2011
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

days on pensive wing

it comes to me in my twilight concern
bemused mythologies
fending off carnivorous time
gilded ambiguities
like some kind of reminiscent apocalypse
beckoning me over the edge once again

I feel the flourish
of familiar fictitious heroes
swans of seduction
promising
lighter than air
precipiced pirouettes
fast on unfettered wing

but gravity makes
for a certain
dance partner

and now that evening
dims the horizon low
and my heart does faintly illume
I abjure to shadow

and so now come these days
on pensive wing

 

 

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© April 06, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn

there are no lions of convenience

I don’t know why the pain of this world must be so
think of all that have suffered throughout all history

you are kindred of billions of bound souls
consigned to space and time

throughout,
all have sought their way
all have fought their way
all have lost their way

yet all goes on

the lions have won the field
and now the pastures are docile with abundance
and the danger transformed within

no longer are they needed to protect but are
now vilified for their strength
they have been displaced
replaced by those who’ve spurred them on
to do their bidding and now that day is won,
they are of no use

no greater sadness and no greater loss
is there than that of purpose

the age of honor has no place in convenience

Written by Scott Schoffstall
© March 31, 2012
all rights reserved
Poetic Sojourn