The Chaotic-Neutron

I’ve hummed along to the beat of this song by Wolfmother so many times but just listened to the lyrics and found them graceful and beautiful. Here’s the full lyrics for the song.

When the time is right and the night is bright
We will see the things we’ve come to find
I’ve been searching for just a little more
but the days girl just slip away
And the red sunset that we just met
I can see forever

Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try
Come and see the mind’s eye
Transfixed upon the why
Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try

Well they say it’s right if it feels alright
When your love burns up in the mire
So I burnt a fire for a lost desire
See it burning higher

Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try
Come and see the mind’s eye
Transfixed upon the why
Come and see the mind’s eye
We can find it if we try

I’ve got to admit, there is some nice word play and poetry in there. Subtle and elegant.

In pain, and satisfied like a well-fed child,
Conquering 22 miles in agony, amongst lost strides,
In training, the test still weeks away,
Work to be finished, and more miles ahead,
Another journey with high hopes, treads.

A good week, I presumed.
Bugs fixed, a near marathon complete,
but a little thought reveals a treat,
Of more work remaining,
Completion never in the vicinity.

Cause and effect do change,
Perspectives, opinions and ambition;
Work unfinished, drives and stalls elation.
Does all this work still make the difference,
Between life and beyond ?

I understand, action begets action, the inevitable,
The more you try, the deeper you sink;
Like caught in a quick sand, terrible
the fright, the action necessary is to avoid action.
When will I learn ?

It came by, it passed,
Like every other day, the past year has;
Memories past, of fun and frolic, linger,
Every night with friends, included.

With buddies and wine missing here
I sit solemn working on my code;
Come far I have, the past 15 years
To reach the end of another episode.

One day past, the fun does it last ?
Here comes a new day with aspirations aloft.
One more year. One more day.
and I still really don’t feel that old…

Chance creates passages in ways unthought,
Where lies the thrill in chaos fought ?
Friends lead the stranded mind,
Subtle yet sure the games and its deliverance.

A revelation. A passing memory.
Knowing knowledge cures, is half the journey.

Dammit I’m mad.
Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I’m in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level “Mad Dog”.
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider… eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one… my names are in it.
Murder? I’m a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash,
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I’m it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I’d assign it a name.
Name not one bottle minus an ode by me:
“Sir, I deliver. I’m a dog”
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I’m mad.

Poetry ? Well, it is a little hard to comprehend the meaning behind it but Palindrome you say ?! Yes. This is a 224 word Palindrome Poetry written by “Demetri Martin”.

via Neatorama and read from the original link at Slate Magazine.

My lack of command over the language disgusts me most times. Some times, it even forces me to stop talking. I remember once upon a time, I was fluent in more than 3 different tongues and now, I barely struggle to speak 2 of them without obvious trouble. Unfortunate though, the thoughts and feelings cannot see an outlet without these words formed well, else you perceive what I write very differently from what I intend. Sure, this has happened all this while but now that questions haunt more, the experience becomes even more critical.

Language limits, thoughts and expressions
Portrayed bland, lacking depth or feeling;
That hunger amiss and inspiration misplaced
Here written, more words without attachment.

I have heard about the legend of Faust before but never had the chance to read it. As destiny would have it, I recently stumbled upon Faust again, one of the works by Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe), the one that made him apparently famous in the literary world of then Europe.

For the past few days, piecemeal I’ve read and it is beautiful. My only regret is that I did not discover this gem before.

The tale of Faust is supposed to be Goethe’s greatest work into which he poured a lifetime of experience; the entire work took him his whole life and he finished the second part only a year before his demise. The literary work is written as a play (a poetical drama actually) and it portrays an interplay of religion, the supernatural, love, tragedy and the surreal. To give you an introduction about Faust, here’s a brief synopsis.

Faust is an old man, a sage or an alchemist, wise, learned and very pious. We see a conversation between God and Mephistopheles (satan) in which God remarks that Mephistopheles may try all he likes to tempt Faust; God is confident that Faust is too moral an individual to be tempted by anything. Mephistopheles sets to work, appearing to Faust and conversing with him. Faust is weary of life, and Mephistopheles is soon able to convince him that he could sample something more.

The story concerns the fate of Faust in his quest for the true essence of life. Frustrated with learning and the limits to his knowledge and power, he attracts the attention of the Devil (Mephistopheles), who agrees to serve Faust until the moment he attains the zenith of human happiness, at which point Mephistopheles may take his soul. Faust is pleased with the deal, as he believes the moment will never come.

In the first part, Mephistopheles leads Faust through experiences that culminate in a lustful and destructive relationship with an innocent and nubile woman named Gretchen. Gretchen and her family are destroyed by Mephistopheles’ deceptions and Faust’s desires and actions. The story ends in tragedy as Gretchen is saved and Faust is left in shame.

The second part begins with the spirits of the earth forgiving Faust (and the rest of mankind) and progresses into rich allegorical poetry. Faust and his devil pass through the world of politics and the world of the classical gods, and meet with Helen of Troy (the personification of beauty). Finally, having succeeded in taming the very forces of war and nature Faust experiences a single moment of happiness.

The devil Mephistopheles, trying to grab Faust’s soul when he dies, is frustrated as the Lord intervenes — recognizing the value of Faust’s unending striving.

This has been one of the most interesting drama’s I have ever read. It portrays one of the imminent weaknesses of the human kind; The quest for knowledge and the impossibility to attain enlightenment without the passion. And It punches in all that with philosophical poetry. Enough said. Go grab a copy now and enjoy it.

Download from Google for free.

On the day of my father’s eve,
I search again for serenity.
Another thought lost and some more friends gained,
Cliched references to a life not quit.

Here I stay, with pain filled throat,
I tear, I repair and I loathe ;
This unknown reference pointing to lucidity
Another answer to the final question.

A new day dawns, a sky unfolds
Gives hope and a ritual foretold.
I await, eager to fulfill destiny
The soul and body reaching maturity.

It hurts, to live in agony;
It sears skin and heart with questions;
But there lies false solutions everywhere,
Can mind see truth in this worldly illusion ?

Scorned by the poor language,
Words inadequate to express thoughts.
Or is it the influence of wine and more
That fumbles intended poetry into conceited dribble ?

My father. Guide me. Or take me. Now.

Another thought, in another world perceived,
Here lies the eternal music beyond.
Sublimity in music and work and the world
How shall I write this beauty felt in words.

Amadeus. Da Vinci. Einstein.
My heroes. Consigned to flames of woe.
Every genius faces his misery,
The reward disguised unseen until the moment.

My moment, hopefully will be realized before it is late,
Here I watch, unfold a perfect story in harmony.

Alone in a city full of people,
Here I stare at fireworks along the shore;
Hours away, a test about to unfold,
For the physical and the pysche alike.

This marathon, I wanted for so long,
Shall push my physical limit to beyond.
Zones I thought I tamed by mind,
This body shall endure and conquer it too.

If this were to fail, then hear me,
This shall be my last strike.
For I will not quit this endeavor
Before tasting that medal awaiting me at 26.2 miles.

A long time feeling,
Of feeling afloat, in sea wide,
As far as eye can see, flowing with the tide,
Something missing in this life another.

Pressure from people I love,
Unwilling to fulfill what might be necessary;
This frantic soul escaping worldly needs
Would stillness of the breath bring peace within ?

Love untold to a woman beloved,
Here I type, without anyone beside,
There lies the black hole right by my side,
That I would love to bend my vision around.

Love. Vacation. More friends. I miss them all…

O Fortuna is a poem from Carmina Burana, a collection of Latin poems written in early 13th century. I do not know what is enticing about the tune but the chorus, the rhythm resonates within me. For years, I have not known the meaning of the song and now here it is (translated to english).

O Fortune,
like the moon
you are constantly changing,
ever waxing
and waning;
hateful life
first oppresses
and then soothes
as fancy takes it;
poverty
and power
it melts them like ice.

Fate – monstrous
and empty,
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being is vain
and always fades to nothing,
shadowed
and veiled
you plague me too;
now through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.

Fate is against me
in health
and virtue,
driven on
and weighted down,
always enslaved.
So at this hour
without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;
since Fate
strikes down the strong man,
everyone weep with me!

A song, gives me peace,
Elates me to places high,
Without crutches or weird tease
I see tranquility and perfect harmony.

Life moves me away
From serenity found and felt ;
Insane thoughts and crazy friends
Deviate this mind at rest.

Music, my final solution.
For years, yet there is an alternate
To cure this cancer of the mind,
Sangeetham, high hopes, chance,
What difference is there, in their meaning core ?

Darkness closing in at dusk,
Clouds protecting earth from sun’s wrath,
Blood spilt beauty, another one of his prank,
Here lies serenity I’ve failed to see.

Where heaven seems to thrive,
In words and works so close by,
There is this aloof self struggling to get by.
How did life lead me to this dead end drive ?

In struggle, poetry survives,
Where flesh and bones struggle to capture,
Essence unknown and lost in souls.
Maybe there is meaning from all that thee derives.

I resist nevermore to all that occurs,
Cause and effect drive my life,
In motion, I stand still.
Here’s to that new wave, the new year.