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Excali-blog - The Previous Poet is Sacked -OR- He's Got Nuts


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My first few poems were assignments in high school. I wrote a poem for what was supposed to be an anthem for Australia, which had not yet been colonized and we were the colonizers (in the assignment, smart a$$). Tons of poems later I've come up with an automatic style that speaks rapidly (not rap, though) and then explains back to me in torrents (a word that used to mean something) many tiers of meaning that used to be explanatory and personal (dividing my usable work), but now border on universal and darkly hidden. Much of my work today could be used for a myriad of purposes while still keeping that hidden, personal meaning that I may take with me.

Run Away, Catch Up (By Jason Caraway from my old 'green book' Tentatively titles "OH! The Voganity!)

My normal pace is far too slow
I'll use my wheels to cut through snow
I'm not below the birds that fly
and faster still, I'll take the sky
I built these things for who I am
I long to be more than a man
It takes too long when I must walk
to reach you there so we can talk
The plans too clear when time is near
So faster, faster
Run from fear
It closes in, so quicker still
My handmade beast!
Obey my will!

The Do'er of Evil -OR- D'evil by Jason Caraway (this is a OLD poem)

He's in the accusers
He's in the abusers
He's filled all the shoes
of the liars and losers
He knows there's no winning
and no new beginning
for all who wont listen
and continue sinning
The first made deceiver
to fight the believer
Convinced you to curse
and to lie and to leave her
Forget him and run to the
home where they spun in
your heart your own armor
and God's word, the gun!
Now break out the breech
with the seven holes waiting
and fill each with truth to shoot
down his debating!


These are old and semi-ridiculous when compared to my more recent material.

Here's a pick-up line...

Hey. Would you like to see the arctic?

Procrast By Jason (old)

My heart is on the floor
Next to my bed
Above my underwear
Below my head
It fell the other day
I slept instead
Of reaching over there
To please my head
My mind is silent now
No friends debate
can raise a pattern
I hesitate

These are from before I was full blown syncretist, but I knew that something was amiss with the kirk. When you leave a church while driving in a church bus to another church singing "You Can't Go To Church Cause The Church Is YOU!", and you do know what the word HYPOCRITE means, things begin to sink in! Slowly, but they do! That was when I was in my young teens, so I was the kid who told people that churches made little sense when the guy in the book said "Be not as they who go out into the streets with long winded prayers, holding hands, with songs, only to be seen. In being seen they receive their reward in full. But, rather, when you pray, go into your closet where it is only you and God."

From ideas like this I became intimately tied to whoever is in my head.

I would have you all know that your brain is interpreting for you and not doing a very good job! One side of the brain (angel) argues with the other side (other angel) about what you (a bright dot in the middle of your head on a throne called 'the mercy seat' ,have some, you'll like it) are trying to get across to the rest of the specks of light stomping around in fleshly robots.

That is partly why I named my first daughter Limited Clone of an Angel.

I miss you Eva.

I love you.

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