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NickCueva |
we few
yet
again
again
we can reach
fight
again
the skin is
damp and cold
again
got it?
go it
is again
we fought
reaching for
limp bits
damp and hard
soiled
solid
light bits
decayed
punching
punishing
crawling
damp and earthy
we fight
again
thin
slender
solid
sleek
open
chilling
fat and soft
dripping
shaking
rolling
solid and cold
dried skin
lips
lashes
beating
with every beat
beatings
lashes
gold
nails
cars
eye
iris
I
Labels: Nick
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NickCueva |
I know it's scary.
No matter how you cut it, death is the only thing left.
If God exists, if there is no god, if I am God, the only real course of action
is to kill oneself.
There is no way to know anything. How can any human trust anything.
Death, it would seem is the only way out, the only truth.
It is either going to be the nothing that is reality, the glory that is God,
or the recreation of absurdity that cycles again.
I think we wait, hoping to figure it out without having to die, but maybe that's just laziness and timidity. Shouldn't we boldly face the reality of death?
Maybe that's what God wants, someone to forcefully pull back the shroud of this reality to face him. Maybe that's the point to life, being ok with death.
There was no me, then there was me, then there was no me.
Nothing to fear, nothing to run from.
Anything in between now and the end of my life is the addition of zeros.
If there is nothing, what did it matter. If there is heaven, what did it matter. If there is hell, what did it matter. If I am God, what did it matter.
Maybe this is the grand lie we tell ourself, the ultimate self-deception. We fear to disappear, but why fear something you won't be around to be bothered by?
Now let's forget this whole thing and live.
We wouldn't want to miss the summer blockbusters.
(This is from the point of view of a character from a story I am writing)
Labels: Nick
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NickCueva |
It was so precious that is was valued by weight at one thousand dollars an ounce.
It was purchased by the local Methodist church, and they put it on display in the rectory.
Many pilgrims from around the country came to see the velvet skull.
No one could touch it, lest the velvet lose it's sheen and lose its power.
Over the years the velvet yellowed, and many took this as a sign.
"As the moon turned to blood, the sun to black and the velvet lamb skull to yellow."
I was born the year it was declared "White Corn".
My sister was born in the year of "Eggshell cream".
I graduated in the year of "Vanilla Custard".
I married in the summer of "Glow".
Our first child was born in the year of "Sun Whisper".
Our second, the year it turned "Honey Moth"
Our second died the winter of "Oklahoma Wheat".
I stopped going to see the skull after that.
I wonder when yellow will be yellow, and when I will see my son in heaven.
I wonder when God will draw the line.
Does God see yellow the way we do?
Do I see yellow the way that God does?
It is rumored that whatever the color of the velvet lamb skull when He returns will be the color of the golden streets.
I can't wait.
Labels: Nick
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