This poem explores the danger of attempting to escape evil.
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Joshua Brown
Knock, knock.
I asked to enter into some darkened state of mind
Where understanding that loss of telemetry gained
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
Please sir, can you spare a loaf of bread for my child
Those barren women cackled at the thought of help
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
There was some rage among those imbibing unknown
That human eraser, but it didn't matter, they were dumb
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
They smiled a smirk, not of disdain, but of calm, plaintive
Reciprocity for those who could not breathe through gills
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
Whoever noticed these men, hanging around, observing?
No one, but the door stood tall, unopened, virgin to man.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
Tell them the story, for though they open not the door
Yet will they hear you speak that truth by parable wise
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
T1 slipped not, for that immutable code entwined broke
And the warriors from above were dead, blood fresh.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
All the warriors were dead, in some deeper magic cast
Spelled out in quiet whispers of lonely dissociation.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
Cold empirical facts existed, that the world remained
Despite the loss of violent golems, betrayed by gotts.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
Each one allowed to draw upon their own breath in time
To participate, as they willed, and chose they did to requite.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
I walked up to the door and waited, looking deeply at Gott
Where he stood, observing, protecting classified couriers.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
The world wanted me to look for a new way of escape
They wanted someone, anyone, to discover something new
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
They knew, deep down, that objectively existed other way
And believed in me that I could rage deep enough to find
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
The demons were watching me and though my eyes looked
My own thoughts were too vulnerable to allow to think.
Entry forbidden.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
Praise to the world, praise to the men and women who forgave
Who observed in quiet longsuffering. Praise be to them wholly.
For through much indoctrination and rage safely held for evil,
I found that door, opened, and waiting for us to enter softly.
Fly I did, and those those demon informants saw me swift escape
We found our home among the untouchables who fight for us
Those who see in darkness because in them is no darkness
Entry bidden.
#poem #poetry #evil #good #deception #fear #surveillance #angels
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📅 Written May 5, 2024
📍 Written at Joshua's home along Sand Creek in Aurora, Colorado
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Someone brought up Marx's idea that religion is the way that people deal with unbearable circumstances. Sometimes we face really scary situations, and being able to face scary situations and not be surprised when the scary situation really involves dangerous people or groups. Part of being brave is going up to the line and bearing the emotional pain of being in danger to reduce the likelihood that actual violence would happen to you or those you love.
Religion seems to be a parablization of that enticement to the front lines of morality. But I wouldn't say that it for sure is, because a lot of religious ideas include the inclusion of the immoral into the community by redefining in-group preference from those who act in "good faith" communication to those who best appear to act in "good faith."
So the people who act in good faith themselves are in a unsafe position because now, there are men and women who walk around, unable to act in good faith, because to do so would endanger them.
Escape is only possible once you stop lying to yourself. For there are people and situations in your life that prevent you from speaking at all, prevent you from clearly articulating yourself, prevent you from practicing free association, but these are wise but ancient artifices left in your mind to protect you as a child.
Do you need them still? How would you really act or speak if you felt no fear of starvation or abandonment to wild animals?
a Joshua Brown poem #219 "Flight Not Fight"
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