Tag Archives: reality

THE SIMPLE WAYS OF ART

source: pinterest

It’s 1 am

How do I do something no one has ever written

Write something no one has ever done

Outstandingly creative or ingenious

That gets the reader stuck on its pages and lessons

A real page- and life-turner

That remains evergreen even when my hair turns grey

Something that will cost some sweet sweat

The kind that precedes a particularly delightful rest

The kind that only comes after rock-hard labour

 

This is the question I keep asking

At 4:30 am

 

This is the eternal curse of the artist

That high bar we have set for ourselves

That forever keeps us below the scientist

That high bar we never attain to

That makes a mockery of us before the scientist

Whose life is so simple

A very theoretically pragmatic mix of principles

No matter how actually chaotically inadequate this mix is

 

We forever fawn over our inferiority before them

The scientist who needn’t rise beyond his senses

The scientist who needn’t read between the lines of this piece

The scientist whose neurons fire away in peace

We artists be forever murdering ourselves

Suiciding and homiciding all through life

The artist wakes up every morning with a hammer to the head

He then picks at the pieces with long nails

Same nails he used to scratch his itchy under a night before

He scatters the bits with his scrawny feet

So bony from years of starvation

Because inspiration did not give 50 kobo if he survived

In a world of indie publishing, miscellaneous blogging and facebooking

He peers with eyeballs painfully straining hard

For something beyond the senses

Something truly beautiful

That could not have come from among those neurons and equations

Something more than a mockery of his senses

Writing simply as his eyes have seen or ears heard

He has to spin the magical into it

He cannot paint that drab leaf the way it is

The leaf has to look like a flower

A glorious flower nobody has seen before

art, draw, drawing, eye, eyes, freak

source: favim.com

The artist has to produce a work of wonder

A work that the senses have to adore

A work the scientist has to bow before in awe

 

Make no mistake the scientist works hard

Starting from the imagination

Creating a complex question

But he then turns the simplistic way

Reduces the wonder to a series of observations and equations

 

The scientist has his own merits

 

But,

 

The artist has to dig into the supernatural

He has to bridge the realms of the seen and unseeable

He has to produce a wonder

The scientist did not know existed

In a way that could not be explained by equations and mere observations

Using tools the scientist did not know existed

He looks at the simple elements

Eats them all up

Regurgitates lying down

Whilst the scientist scorns

Calling him a lazy goat

Who cannot handle the rigours of elaborate farm work

 

Only to produce a wonder the same scientist can apprehend

And adore with his own senses

 

A world beyond mere observations and simple equations of life.

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The Apprentice

 

As-a-human-being-one-has-been-endowed-with-just-enough-intelligence-to-be-able-to-see-clearly-how-utterly-inadequate-that...-Albert-Einstein.jpg

Come humbly and cautiously before my face

Avoiding the awe and terror in this space

As I stare any Jack in the eye

Damning your status low or high

 

Some call him a madman

Others a magician and charlatan

Wielding a dangerous weapon

To whom the minds of the crowd bend and open

 

I’ve got the power of art

To touch the shadows in anyone’s heart

Stabbing them recklessly with my pen

Coz I’m a righteous monster from heaven’s den

 

He eats locusts and honey

He’s no prophet looney over money

Dressed in sweater made of woolly things

No mere gangster enslaved with gold rings and blings

 

Been years walking among those fakes

Who ain’t got no real idea what it takes

To confidently state the spiritual ain’t for real

Coz they ain’t seen the real deal

 

They shamelessly blurt and pontificate

Parading themselves as scientifically literate

They haven’t searched half the world or their souls

Packaging theories and philosophies featuring holes

 

I grew wise in the wild

Saw the supernatural as a child

Compelled to consider how this reality

Intertwines with the spiritual in totality

 

The acid-test for prophecy is fulfilment

Heard about Him when I was sent

So when out of the blues Christ appeared

I knew the spiritual was to be feared

I happen to feel that the degree of a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting attitudes she can bring to bear on the same topic. Lisa Alther

some would argue differently though.

EPILOGUE

The report of John the Baptist (the apprentice): I repeat, I know nothing about him except this: The One who authorized me to baptize with water told me, ‘The One on whom you see the Spirit come down and stay, this One will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ That’s exactly what I saw happen, and I’m telling you, there’s no question about it: This is the Son of God.” Matthew chapter 3 verses 1-17; John chapter 1 verses 29-34

 

A Postcard From My Life

image

{No, it’s not the road I’m on!}

Please pray for me
I no longer know the road I’m on
It’s a long road
With so many bends I can’t see a mile ahead of me
It’s hard to see far ahead when life throws you the curves
Nothing is certain anymore
And then the winds blow and I see sandy mists here and there
There are shape-shifters and I can never tell reality from fantasy
There are mind-shifters and I can never tell right from wrong
I am straining through blood-and-sweat-smeared glasses
And all I see are shades of grey
Not greys of a thunderstormy cloud
The flood would be an exciting change
But greys that becloud my judgment and sense of morality
Greys that want to make me regret I have a sense of morality
Greys that want to make me throw away my sense of morality
Along with everything else I have lost on this long road
Thinking I’d be travelling light and simple
Unknowing that some complicated baggages
Contain some bare necessities
For an easier life-journey

image

Ha! There! More like it.

{This would be it!}

Pray for me on this road I’m on
I left my car a mile and week ago
There are trees here and there looking at me
They are not bothered
Are they me
Have they been called to a life like mine
Keep looking, trees
Pray for your souls
That the woodcutter may still have a son who remembers him
And so he’d never have to retake his job to earn his living
Keep looking monkeys
Called to a blissful life lounging on tree branches
Pray for your souls
May I never find a stranded and lost soul-of-a-knife
At a period I may want to have monkeysoup
I am still too far concerned about wildlife conservation
And will not harm a hair on your butts
Besides, you are my only companions
No, I do not think you beneath me
I don’t have the luxury of that complex
You can stare hard and unblinking at me all you want
So long you acknowledge
I am alone on this journey
Though we be on the same road
So long you take a minute from your busy lives
To say a prayer for me
Thank you.

Imagine a human race like me

Imagine a world where everyone was like me…

image

(I‘d be the one floating on the left.)

There would be no earthquakes because we would all just be featherweights –with very low BMIs –floating on the planet; and there would be nobody throwing his weight around and acting like a bully.
Seriously, I don’t bully people psychologically or otherwise. People may have felt bullied by a normal part of me, but I try to discourage it when I notice it.
Also, there would be no need for parachutes –for same reason as above, Sherlock! Sincerely, he that is “humble” need fear no fall. I don’t shatter when I fall or commit errors or am having a rough life.

We wouldn’t need elevators up skyscrapers because –yes, you are right –I am long. Not just tall.
I really don’t know how to feel inferior. I have this delusion that makes me believe no human being is eternal. We be all mere mortals. Only one ultimate Creator. I really am not moved when a random mortal refuses to acknowledge the fact. “For his/her pocket!” Denying that fact doesn’t place the fellow above me.
So, there would be no bullying or inferiority complex. None to look down your nose at or humiliate and none can feel humiliated.

We would not need microscopes or telescopes because of the bird-eye I have.
And there would be no need for lie-detection. We know the next fellow is a human lie-detector and can see through us. No, that is not why lie-detectors would be useless. It is because we would all be smart enough to know how to keep poker faces –at the least –or throw the next fellow off with a misleading body gesture; and because we know the next fellow is thinking like this, we don’t bother trying to analyse each other. I didn’t mention the machine because the mechanical lie-detectors are way too easy to evade for this race of humans.

We would all just be nervous bunches of people suspicious of each other, not because we are actually evil by nature, but for the inevitably unnerving pupils that I have.

image

(Left. Tried rolling my eyes a bit so as not to scare you with my direct gaze.)

As a “complement” to my warm personality, my eyes generate atypical reactions from people who gaze into it.

Before I turn in the continuation at my next post, I would love to see links from commenters to their posts on what the world would be like if all humans looked like them physically. Nothing deep or philosophical please. The only exemptions I may possibly permit are Julien (of julienmatei) and Paul (of poesypluspolemics). A world like those two would be simply unimaginable. Hahahahahahaha!!!

Are you game?

Haiku -When The Drunk Saw

Wine barrels

Was a wine-lover
Lounging in the evening breeze,
Then saw a wonder.

Red sky turns lively;
Angels whipping demon-butts
Could be seen clearly.

Off to the cellar,
I rolled out my wine barrels
And worked my lighter!