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The Song Of Death

I am in the heart of God

And death whispers around no corner

A song so sweet and foreign

That if I hear it at all

I would think it a scream

I am in the heart of God

Oh God

Such futility, such complex

Mechanics

All grinding away

Whirring for a reason

Whirring for a reason

Such mechanics

And death whispers and sings

The most sublime song

If you can hear it

Richness like fine chocolate

You can be in the song of death

You are in the song of death

Because you are in the heart of God

Death Will Not Save You

It’s hard to get to,
but I can feel it…
the nugget is there
underneath the soiled laundry
and high fives
I didn’t think it would be so hard
to find it
what with everything that’s happening in the world.
It seems it should be more obvious…

But it isn’t.

If you stand with open arms
you will meet the sword
what other option is there
what other option is there

And maybe then, that’s the point
and the thing we don’t understand
maybe we’ve become so attached
to our condition
we’ve forgotten our own land.

But if I choose to open up
and then, my lord, I’m wrong
and my body goes away
and that’s all there ever was
in my dying breath
what horror does betray
as my eyes go dark
my regret will win the day
and maybe then
at the last second
I will finally feel some peace

Or maybe that’s the problem
with no solution’s ease
I want there to be peace
I want to feel the peace
there’s no such thing as peace
until death is at your feet
and then you’re done
your time is up
your balance sheet comes due
that is when you’ll understand
just who is leading who
and if you think that you feel sadness now
and confusion and remorse
if you think you suffer your sins now
just wait

Just wait, there’s more.

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Writing about philisophical explorations and solutions and the roots of desire.

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A Terrible Mistake…

Have I made a terrible mistake?

It’s possible.

And so I write now to examine it. I write as Damon Brink. I write in acceptance of who I am and what I have done and I write to examine and hunt for both the truth and the good. It’s possible I will find neither and I write with that fore-knowledge.

One thing is certain. I am not as good and as noble as I think I am, as I pretend to be, as I wish others to be. I have my share of misery, deep and often as seductive as a whore. I complain inwardly, I suffer, I blame and I seek to make others responsible for my own pain. 

I use anger like a weapon and I wield it with a skill born of 50 years of training and indoctrination. I take advantage of my privilege, often without giving back. 

I hurt the ones that are closest to me, that I love the most, purely out of an unwillingness and incapacity to look at and change my own perception. I am selfish, indulgent, petty, violent and prideful.

It’s not looking good. 

So what, then, is the point?

The point is, simply, that I am a human being, like you are a human being. We are not different species. And on this day, the day, eleven years ago, that I became a father, I realized something that I have since put away and then hid away. I realized as I looked into the eyes of my son, as I felt his helpless body and heard his first cry, as I stood in awe of the strength of the woman who had born him out and the wisdom of the women who assisted her, as I played a helpless and most fortunate observer to the process of life, I realized how far our world had drifted from our own hearts and our own love. As I experienced the birth of my son, I realized that every father had, at one time, had the thought “how can violence exist” in the face of this.

How can such violence exist in the face of my newly born child?

I had the thought that fatherhood could help save world, if it only could be held onto. 

I saw a world, enflamed and protected by the love of the father. 

And I have failed.

I have failed to keep my truth burning. I have failed to lead with the flame of pure love. I have given up and given in to the world around me and to the world inside of me. 

I have failed.

What have I chosen instead of the flame? What have I chosen instead of the truth? What have I chosen instead of the good?  I have chosen culture. I have chosen society. I have chosen emotional blankness. I have chosen comfort. I have chosen popularity. I have chosen righteousness. I have chosen obligation. I have chosen fear. 

I have chosen to remain quite while all around me fools plan for impossibility. I have been a fool. 

But No More.

No. Fucking. More.

Which brings me to my second point. Fuck You. I’m coming for you. I’m coming for the cowards. I’m coming for the fools. I’m coming for the righteous, I’m coming for the rules. I’m coming now and bringing myself, who’s been so slow and long away, I’m coming now, invite me in, you’ve had so much to say. I’m coming for all you liars, cheats and bores…and guess what you mutha fuckers, I’m teaming with the whores!

So get your violence ready

Because that’s all that you have left

and really it’s all you’ve ever had

since early on 

you came bereft

And the beauty of it all

is that I don’t even have to come

there’s no escape for you

no matter what

you’ve laid the table

what’s done is done is done

But life cares not

how you feel

or how you can convince

life doesn’t care if 

people agree with you

or if there’s no dissent

Life doesn’t care

that you have the law

doesn’t care that you are right

doesn’t care if you are mighty

what you have coming

is the night

and what you have coming

is the blight

and what you have created

for your families

is only, purely, fright.

I used to speak with honour

I used to care a lot

but I don’t hang 

and I don’t agree

with the folks

who run that lot.

So if you are a coward,

which you surely are,

There’s no escape from me

and I can only hope you dare.

And as you read this

and run in fear

and start to stutter, shake and stare

just know that I am waiting

to hear what you will share

and know that what you’re sharing

is for everyone and all time

and feel the weight of all the eyes

and all the hearts and minds

as you write and say your 

petty words

all wrapped up behind false names

you’re shining dull

for all the world

and I’ll kill you with my rhymes.

I’m coming for you

you fearful thots

and useless idiots

your day is over

hope you enjoyed it

but I know

that you did not.

Ok. So there’s that. Yes, i failed and I have failed to be the father that saw true love and true peace and true brotherhood, but I’m getting back up and dusting myself off. Come at me bro!

Part 1.

I Am Love

The stirrings
liquid feelings
emotional tides
both reliable and harsh
always unforgiving.

I am like the day
full of sunshine
warmth and comfort

And the storm
and impending grey
and piercing cold

I am boredom
and fire
I am death
and confusion
I am all bad things

and

I am love.

Truth vs Good

If “truth” is not the same
as
“good”
the world is lost
and screaming at itself
that it is not.

That fits.

The Good Life

The machinery is all connected
but it’s not the same.
Life exists on different planes
but you remain.

The mystery is at the transition
the points where ideas become actions
become thoughts
become feelings
become ideas
become thoughts
become feelings
become actions.

The key to a good life
Is being willfully uncomfortable.

Neat Freaks

It’s messy.

It’s not like in the movies
in the fantastic entrails
of excitement
and achievement.

It’s messy.
And.
It’s not what you think.

That’s probably why it’s messy.
And.
It’s always messy.

That’s why neat freaks…
Freak me out.

What are those mother fuckers hiding?

The Monster

The girl shrieked
the cameras recoiled
and then
came forward
to eat.
No one had to look up
Because there was
no one left.
There was just…

Feeding.

And there was no way
to ever get back again.
Everything had been…

Consumed.

The mothers knew better
but the knowing was not
accessible to them.
They had sealed it
Cauterized
with the pain of mortality
and reality of chaos.

The fathers knew better
but most were afraid
of the mothers
and were not strong enough
to hold.

I don’t know if I am strong enough to hold.

The biggest monster
has been revealed
and he…

HE

is hungry.

The Myth

I can hear
the tiredness
and the pain.

It will always break my heart.

But what else is a heart for…

What will I do when it’s over
What will I do when there’s nothing left to fight against
What will I do when they win.

Will I join them?

A fate worse than death.

Will I join them?

They will welcome me into their maw
glistening, sharp
ferociously hungry
they will consume me
like all the rest.

And then, I will be joined to them
part of them
and I can consume, unheeded
I can roar through
the life
deafening all with my hunger
to cling
to the myth of my incapable
and violated
self.

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