What a most depressing continuance.

I continue to lament my enlightenment on the world’s size and complexity. My ability to process my desire for information has not grown more manageable but instead far worse since my first realization, prompting a larger and more tedious struggle to comprehend the material to which I have access. Simply, knowing that all this information exists only seems to make me want to find it more.

I understand full well that I cannot possibly access it all. The local university’s library, generous enough to grant me access credentials, my own university library, the local city library, interlibrary loan, online databases and music stores and random websites…I hold simultaneous thoughts on this phenomenon. I cannot get to everything that interests me…but I still want to learn about it all, in the most thorough manner possible.

Is this how people end up with double degrees, wild career shifts and ridiculous late-night ramps through libraries and religious documents, furiously aware of what they seek but entirely unschooled in the information itself? I’ve seen these kinds of furiously lost people, grasping a semblance of rigid understanding and intellectual contentment but otherwise suffering emotionally at the prospect of passing out of this life without…something.

I fear I am such. I like to think God sends me on this spiel intentionally, but grasping Him…that’s another matter entirely. There is plenty of material, factual and believable information, that would tell me to stop bothering on the prospect of a God entirely, let alone his supposed beneficial nature.

I despise labels, but I fit one pretty well- a disillusioned, knowledge-thirsty pseudo-deist.

moving forward

Your scent in the stairwell
Only lends itself to the image
Of darting across the bedroom
Finally dismaying inhibition
And giving you a taste
Of what I actually feel.

And where is God
When his text tells me
That your skin is forbidden
But the heart he has set in place
Not only fights against inaction
But anticipates reaction

What significance has it
What defense can I possibly harbor
Against an inherent program
That tells me to love you
Despite logic or reason
Screaming at me to flee

The night descends like a sea
Giving way to an intimate mist
Warm like a tender moment
Potent as the sharpest drink
And I am far beyond the point
Where I could have told it no.

As the music and the city
Roar eagerly in the background
My lips will find yours
And many other places
As I anticipate your reaction
And the program rages on.

Loneliness

I once tried to write a small anthem
To embody what we think as youth
To compel those who would dare mock us
To convince them instead of the truth.

But then I saw churches and steeples
And knew that the answer lie far
For mountains of reason will topple
In the face of a religious tar.

And then I fell victim to romance
And had wondered on finding a mate
The poem did at once be abandoned
For fear she absconded my fate.

Not much later still the city set fire
And all eyes were turned toward the blaze
Then not only I but every woman and man
Let terror reduce them to haze.

Then finally I saw the complex
Of how deeply I am repressed
Government culture vocation and greed
Now bring me new meaning to stress.

I haven’t made any such progress
In trying to inscribe the truth
I once tried to write a small anthem
But was banished to inside a booth.