rhetoric

feelings inside often play role-reversal with themselves

a proclamation

Questioning

Tell me,

if you know,

is Heaven a place

or an idea of well-lit

clouds among the sky

floating peacefully?

Existence without science

to provide understanding

seems highly unlikely

in a day of reasoning

behind everything.

I believe from time to time

then other time corrupts my mind

and I realize the impossibilities

of faithfulness to a selfish idea.

There must be something above

the universe, but if mankind has

yet to figure, I will dismiss notions

of anything being higher or 

lower.

Runkhesrtrich Gredelburgv

A man from Cape May is half elephant half man. Unlike Lynch’s creation, the creature is beautiful standing eight feet tall, grey and with a body protruding from his head with distinguishable human features. This man has ’73’ tattooed on his forehead boldly indicating the grade his high school art teacher gave him for expressing a lack of artistic ability. He is now an artist who participates in painting, drawing, cinematography, photography, printmaking, music, poetry and fictional writing. Oftentimes at night, he has been caught walking on water, which his family claims is his spiritual routine. Runkhesrtrich Gredelburgv, age 29, grew up a mostly normal boy. Soon thereafter, he began to sprout tusks and large ears. In his twenties, he developed social retardation and grew an entirely new body. He is now the heaviest human alive, weighing in at nearly two thousand pounds. A typical day consists of the consumption of over fifty pounds of food. Gredelburgv has extreme difficulty communicating his thoughts through speaking, but his artwork has been described as “purely brilliant”, “astonishing” and “a must have for any collector”. 

Nature; my apology.

The sounds of nature colliding with humanity’s industrialization and ruin of the purity of the outside world seep their way into my window and into my ears as the wind roars and thrusts my blinds back and forth nearly hitting me smack in the forehead immediately as I push the glass with my hands but they stick like molasses to the countertop when one misses the intended bowl while pouring amongst the other ingredients and I am unable to remove them.

My ears are pleasured by the collision but I do regret not being able to single handedly hear the sounds of nature separate from the blurriness mankind has inflicted upon it. Will we ever again hear, only, the sounds of the rainfall and great winds without hearing cars, trains, buses and children yelling to their siblings in anger about the changing of the channel while rotting their brains to their favorite television drama about actors their age living false lives of despair?

I intend to see, once again, hear, once again, feel, once again, nature’s motherly touch upon her creatures and upon me while I intend to express some thankfulness and regretfulness for destroying her beauty with my electricity and animosity, knowing it is not singly my fault but also the fault of my brothers, sisters, cousins, parents, grandparents and friends. I, although a bit scared and hesitant to admit this, do apologize to mother nature.

Understanding the great things we, as humans, have created, and not at all trying to undermine or demean these things, I write carefully with honesty and slight regret in the tone of my voice. Technology; oh, what a terrible dichotomy it fathers in my brain. I recognize the brilliance of such feats, but I long for the simplicity that can, now, only be created by cinematography and artists on screens, thus proving my separation from the aforementioned is irreconcilable.

Still, I fabricate false perceptions of reality which nullify my previous thoughts on the matter in my dreams while I sleep, causing me to truly understand that the mind is in absolute separation from the destruction of purity, as it proves to be something untampered with by my strongest detests, thus proving it to be something of pure nature. Perhaps I have it all wrong; in my jumbled speech does any of this really make sense to the reader or is it all more of a personal struggle that should remain silent?

nostalgic

remembering the times we ourselves felt these things in the past which was really the same persona in a different state of mind feeling youngness and nostalgic feelings of wanting to be heard and wanting to be felt and wanting to be known by everyone because our thoughts and ideas are substantial enough to seep their way through conversation of adults and even grandparents

smartless

At least be smart about your crime.

speakers ONLY

I talk and talk and you talk and talk
yet I only hear voices through wires
distorted voices, but I long for purity
I have been unable to comprehend
your thoughts and ideas unfortunately.

And in relation to these notions, I am
apologetic to everyone, but through my
selfishness I do not recognize negativety
because of my positive outlook, mostly