melt into one.

Frausto 23 Comments

melt into one.

the days, the days,
they all melt into one.
the days, the days,
they all melt into one.

individual snowflakes and fingerprints,
no two are alike,
but are we really so different
when we remove the layers
of what we think we are
as we all stand naked on an island,
but i don’t want to live alone,
and i need human beings
‘cause solitary conversations and monologues
are just not healthy.

i don’t like interacting with the TV
or responding to a show,
and conversing with a host
that doesn’t even know i exist.

individual snowflakes and fingerprints,
then why do we all choose to
live like slaves
when wu-tang already taught us
to call each other gods?
but nietzsche boasts,
god is dead.

the days, the days,
they all melt into one.
the days, the days,
they all melt into one.

wake up, woke up.
it was all too hard.
return to sleep,
return to sheep,
and all the pain and secrets
that we keep.

wake up, woke up,
and it gets so hard
to just not give up,
to not become corrupt
or sacrifice ideals,
to keep it real,
to simply fucking feel.
in such a plastic fucking world,
how does one maintain whole
without feeling part of soul
slowly, sold out, away?

all of our dreams out on display
or put on lay away.
individual snowflakes and fingerprints,
but the modern world is a fatalistic
future for the majority (of us),
which are just
peons and clogs in this machinery.

the days, the days,
they all melt into one.
the days, the days,
they all melt into one.

and every single day,
we die the same way
for the things we do not say
from our feelings,
which bring us shame.

06.12.14.

23 thoughts on “melt into one.”

  2. This is a song in the making. I identify with that monotony. ..lack of motivation, lack of purpose, sleeping rather than facing the day…it’s depression and in a big way. Keep writing to heal. Jx

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  4. I like the ‘feeling’ in your poem…I really get the drift, heartbroken, weary, fed up, — you have a way with words that is able to incite feeling- not all poets can do that.

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  6. Frausto, I love the call to the reader to wake up fo devoid of feeling and change, we stagnate. Dead things don’t move. .. Your poem reminded me of the quote, below. Thank you for sharing your heart!

    “There’s a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious—makes you so sick at heart—that you can’t take part. You can’t even passively take part. And you’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you’ve got to make it stop. And you’ve got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it that unless you’re free, the machine will be prevented from working at all.”
    ― Mario Savio

    Tiffany

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  7. Thank you for reading from my blog. This post of yours is potent and profound. I admire the way you merge ancient thought into contemporary life. According to Wu-Tang we all are gods, so God cannot be dead as Nietzche asserts. What a tension to consider. Nietzche, of course, asserted that that which does not kill us makes us stronger. But he is dead, which means he met that which did not make him stronger. Sometimes I think about that. Again, Thank you.

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  10. thanks for alluding to both wu-tang and nietzsche in the same stanza (let alone poem), as well as these lines, which pretty much describe my life:

    “and every single day,
    we die the same way
    for the things we do not say
    from our feelings,
    which bring us shame.”

    you whittled a 200 page memoir in 23 words….not bad!

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