Untamable Sleep (a Poem)

O sleep, why dost thou leave me so?
Wherefore dost thou go
When I need thee so dearly?
Thou art like a silken scarf,
That slips from the hold of my fingers.
Thou art like the stars
That seem so beautiful and near
Yet cannot be reached.
Why must I search for thee so?
Why must I coax thee unto me so persistently?
I call thy name, and thou turnest thine head away.
Thou hast the desires
Of another man’s heart in thy bondage.
O sleep, return thou once more unto me again,
That I may rest in thine arms once more.
O wherefore art thou,
Untamable sleep?

This is something I wrote quite some time ago, and today I thought it fit to publish here.

Questions of the Mind

Tattooed on the interior of my skull is a question. It’s a very long question, and it doesn’t ask with words — in fact, it’s more of a curiosity, a desire. I beleive that all matter is a code. When a human talks to another human he uses a code. When she gets annoyed that I generalized all humans with that two-letter word more properly used to describe only men, she is following a code. But what is the key?

Perhaps there are multiple keys, or perhaps there is a key of keys to unlock all codes. Some people seem adept at picking locks. To me, it’s a mystery. Everything is a mystery, an enigma.

I too act according to a code; but I don’t know the key to even my own. Animals follow a simpler code and are more easy to understand. Most of the time they are logical, although mostly in a narrow-minded way. But people … What a bunch of confusion! He wants something from her, goodness knows what … But she says she doesn’t want something that she truthfully does. And here, a rock that the emotions of others splash upon, am I.

Why do people feel? Why love? What logical explanation is there? It seems the only thing worth doing to me, is to question. And as long as I question, I cannot love. The more I seek the less I feel. What if everything we think matters doesn’t, and all that we think are heresies are not? Fools we would seem.

I know not what I write, for the question in my head does not ask with words. Words merely hint at it. Words lower it to the level of paper and pen. Type and print. Dots and dashes. On and off.

The switch — the switch has clicked. Maybe there is a key to the code. Maybe it’s us.

Please Don’t Send my Mother (a Poem)

When I was born my mother had a plan
To raise me right to do the best I can.
She raised me up and covered me with joy
And told me when I was only just a boy
That when I was born she heard the Devil crying
‘Cause I’d grow to be the man to keep on trying.

The Devil tried to kill me as a child
And the fiery arrows burnt my meek and mild.
But my mother knew the Devil had no chance,
And she kept on teaching me the righteous dance.
Oh and there were times I’m sure she felt like dying
But she kept on teaching me to keep on trying.

Oh but what I’ve done has made my mother wail;
If they caught me I’d have ended up in gaol.
Lord only knows how far that I had fell —
And if there’s such a place, I ought to go to Hell.
I’ve had my chance and don’t deserve another;
But if I go to Hell, Lord, please don’t send my mother.

Late one night I was blind drunk in the bar,
But I walked outside and climbed into my car.
When she started up, I drove her through the night
With the lights turned off, the road was out of sight.
When I got back home I could hear my mother crying,
And I heard her voice once more to keep on trying.

But I didn’t listen to the words she said —
I was drinking hard and wishing I was dead.
Sometimes I finished passed-out on the lawn;
Couldn’t feel my legs as I waited for the dawn.
What my stomach couldn’t hold was around me lying
On the ground as I wished I would keep on trying.

What I’ve done has made my mother wail;
If they caught me I’d have ended up in gaol.
Lord only knows how far that I had fell —
And if there’s such a place, I ought to go to Hell.
Oh I’ve had my chance and don’t deserve another;
But if I go to Hell, Lord, please don’t send my mother.

Lord, please help me get out of this hole,
And help me as I try to clean my soul.

Oh what I’ve done has made my mother wail;
If they caught me I’d have ended up in gaol.
Lord only knows how far that I had fell —
And if there’s such a place, I ought to go to Hell.
I’ve had my chance and don’t deserve another;
But if I go to Hell, Lord, please don’t send my mother.

© Oves Tondente

If Only Man Were Like the Grass (a Poem)

I saw a blade of grass today,
And thought about its lot;
It grows from nothing, water, soil,
And gives with all it’s got.

If only man were like the grass;
It, as the weeks and hours passed
Would give and give and give an give
And cause another’s life to live.

I saw the dying grass today,
And saw the fattened kine;
Its sacrifice they feasted on —
On its life they chose to dine.

If only man were like the grass
That, as the weeks and hours passed,
It gave and gave and gave and gave;
A better Earth became its grave.

© Oves Tondente

The Cage of Fear

Centuries passed. They no longer understood what it was to be hunted, and torn apart by wild animals. What their ancestors had given up their lives for, they despised. And as they sought the new, the unusual, and the exiting, they lost the gift of knowledge. Then some, though small in number, saw the Cage. It was gilded; created by those who would be imprisoned therein. The Cage was fear. Fear of losing the comforts that they had made for themselves. Fear of being free from the web that entangled them. For they took comfort in what bound them; and the outside became something considered wild and dangerous. But the few saw the truth. The outside was freedom. the outside was suffering, to be sure, but it was freedom from the Cage. Of the few that saw it, even fewer were bold enough to escape the Cage.

We the people, have enslaved ourselves to our creations. They form a cage around us. A cage that has surrounded us since birth. We find comfort in the cage, because it seemingly cares for us. When we need to speak to someone in the antipodes, we merely use a device and, like a genie of the lamp, our wish is its command. We created currency, with which we can buy and sell whatever our hearts desire. But the currency has become merely an idea of riches — a promise of happiness, pleasure and contentment. But in reality, our riches are being stolen, and gradually fed to a sickeningly rich few in a reverse-Robin-Hood heist. Scientists pride themselves in supposed proof of things that we have always known, and the world looks on in awe, saying, ‘Look how high we have climbed!’ And as they marvel and wonder at what they have created, they don’t see the Cage of Fear that they have built around them; which, like the poisonous venom of the New Guinea dragons, is slowly taxing their lives into a shell of hopelessness. And as this happens the few look on in awe, saying, ‘Look how far we have fallen!’

Is this it? Will we continue to be enslaved by our genies of currency and wondrous technology? Or will we finally see the Cage? I hope we will have the courage to reject the Sheriff of Nottingham, and his master Prince John, in his lustful wallow of self-love. Real joy, real satisfaction, and real riches come to those who don’t follow the hopeless chase of fictional geese, that turn to ash when captured. Oh, humanity! Look how far you have fallen! Look at yourselves, strutting around like kings, but dressed in the blood of innocent men! Is this what you do with power? The time will come when you will fall, down, down, down. Your walls of security will be seen as what they are — lies. The Cage will fall, and you will not be prepared for true freedom, so you will perish in its harsh justice. But in all this there is hope. The few will know the ways of the outside, and with their help you will rise from the ashes like the phoenix that the human race is. And when you have recovered from your fall, you will once again enjoy true freedom. And thus will your plot to enslave yourselves again will be reborn …

I hope this rant makes sense. It’s a bit abstract, because I’m a bit sketchy about what I believe on this subject, but if nothing else, I hope it got you thinking about what you stand for.