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BIP in unrhymed verse

Started by Cainad (dec.), July 12, 2008, 05:09:07 PM

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Cainad (dec.)

Author's notes:

There are no new ideas in this piece. It's essentially just a rehashing of the BIP (as I understand/understood it) that I wrote a long time ago and have gotten a lot of positive response from people who have read it. I'm posting it here because I won't feel complete until somebody tells me it sucks and what's wrong with it.




Do you know where you are?
These four walls, this ceiling, this floor?
This is your life. This is your cell.
Welcome to your Black Iron Prison.

Don't panic, you're not here to be punished.
You were born here.
This is your cell. This is your life. This is all you know.

Beneath you, you can see the floor made by your parents and teachers.
To your left and right, society, media, and your peers make two walls.
Above you, there is a ceiling just barely too high to touch: these are your dreams.
Behind you, the darkest shadows are cast on the third wall, the wall made by your fears.
The light shines through the bars in front of you, through the fourth wall.
But this wall is not a wall. The bars are different, somehow.

These six sides hold you in, safe within a tiny cell of truth.
Take hold of the bars; feel the cold, Black Iron.
What are these bars? Why are they different from the other five sides?

You made these bars.
The light shines through them, but still they hold you in as surely as a solid wall.
They are your beliefs, your thoughts, your identity.
Every time you tell yourself, "I am this, I am that, I am not these other things," you create
another bar.
The stronger your beliefs, the stronger the bars become.

You can break some of those bars, if you choose.
If you are not afraid.
Or you can build more bars, making them thicker and closer together.
It doesn't matter which beliefs make the bars; they all block the light.

Mesozoic Mister Nigel

I like it! A lot, in fact.

That you only address six directions made me think of the seven directions that I was raised with: East, West, North, South, Up, Down and Center. Maybe the bars of the prison we are forgetting to remind people of are the ones that lie at the seventh direction.
"I'm guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk," Charles Wick said. "It was very complicated."


Honey

I like this very much too.  & this 1 line

QuoteBehind you, the darkest shadows are cast on the third wall, the wall made by your fears.

brought me back to the 1980's when I spent a lot of time walking (somewhat aimlessly) around Manhattan.  There was a certain Graffiti Artist who left his mark all over the city at that time.  He used black tar-like material to paint very realistic looking shadows most often on buildings but you might see them elsewhere too. 

Walking down a street you would see a shadow on a building & look around to try to find the person casting the shadow.  No one was there!  Even when I became familiar with his work I would still do that.  At first it was a little unsettling especially when walking alone at night.  Then, after I became more comfortable seeing them, I began to enjoy & would even especially look out for them.

Right around the time I first discovered the shadows I ended up living on this old estate on Long Island.  The family living there had fallen on hard times & was renting out apartments.  They had apartments in the old carriage houses, the garages, & several small sections off the main house.  My roommate & I lived in what used to be the servants quarters.  An interesting place & we were also told that the main house had served as a hospital during the Civil War.  Our landlord was an Artist & he used to have these Artist Conventions every summer on the grounds of the estate. Artists would come & leave their work behind on the property. All kinds of mediums & some of them were really nice!  Well, I never met the "Shadow Artist" – he had been there before my time.  But he did leave a shadow of a dancing cow on the old barn (very nice)  & when you first pulled into the rather long & winding driveway (especially nice at night) you would see a shadow painted on the huge & beautiful old tree in front of the main house. The shadow was of a man standing (akimbo?) with his hands on his hips. Very nice too but a little disturbing at the same time.

Sorry for the long story here but what I'm trying (quite poorly I might add) to say here is that whenever I see shadows I question whether there is something real casting them.  Is there any substance to the fear?  Does Life imitate Art? Does Art imitate Life?  Does it matter?

I liked your poetry.  Thanks.  Respect.   :)
Fuck the status quo!

The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure & the intelligent are full of doubt.
-Bertrand Russell

Cainad (dec.)

Honey, that's cooler than my original post. In fact, I think we need to hold on to that story and make use of it in later works, if you don't mind.

Honey

I like to "make room for Chaos" in my Life.  If any of my chaotic ramblings or thoughts would be helpful, please feel free to use them in whatever form you wish.   :)
Fuck the status quo!

The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure & the intelligent are full of doubt.
-Bertrand Russell

LMNO

Cainad, you may be a spag sometimes, but I really like this piece.


PeregrineBF

Redone for GSOP. Posted both in a "what's the meaning of life thread" at http://forum.progressquest.com/viewtopic.php?p=202534#202534




Do you know where you are?
This golden, curving ball?
This is your life. This is your sphere.
Welcome to your Golden Sphere of Possibility.

Don't panic, you're not here to be rewarded.
You were born here.
This is your world. This is your life. This is all you know.

Beneath you, you can see the floor made by your parents and teachers.
To your left and right, society, media, and your peers make two walls.
Above you, there is a ceiling just barely too high to touch: these are your dreams.
Behind you, the darkest shadows are cast on the third wall, the wall made by your fears.
The light shines from the gold in front of you, through the fourth wall.
But this wall is not a wall. The the gold seems thinner, stretchy somehow..

These six sides hold you in, safe within a tiny sphere of truth.
Touch the wall, feel the strangely stretchy Gold.
What is this wall? Why is it different from the other sides?

You made this wall.
The light shines through it, but it still holds you in as surely as a solid wall.
It is your beliefs, your thoughts, your identity.
Every time you tell yourself, "I am this, I am that, I am not these other things," you make the wall thicker, more rigid, and it pulls the sphere smaller.
The stronger your beliefs, the stronger the wall becomes.

You can expand the wall, if you chose.
If you are not afraid.
Or you can build it thicker, making them closing yourself into the safely familiar.
It doesn't matter which beliefs make the wall; they all block the light.

Mesozoic Mister Nigel

I like it. It reminds me a little of one of my older poems:

Oh, have you lived life, liver of illusions?
Have you held the ball hard and warm in your hand?
Have you pressed your face to the glass
and seen the morning rising firm in your eyes?
Have you felt the surge in your palm
as you sat upon the roof and drank the wine
have you heard the verse in your head?
Have you lived, liver of life, have you crept
upon the heat of your mystery?
Have you shunned it and had the chill
run curious into your arms at night?
Have you fallen cold and wet, blue
to the welcoming ground?
You in your sunlight, in your falling air,
in your digging have you struck flesh,
have you hit metal against bone?
"I'm guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk," Charles Wick said. "It was very complicated."


Jesrad

I like it too. Taking the metaphor and running with it to drive the point, it's... effective :D
The Ends Are The Means (and vice-versa)
The Path is wherever you drop your feet - not the other way 'round. Just get going already !

PeregrineBF

The problem is, I got the Think and Explore, but didn't get the Laugh. I mean, BIP is Think, GSOP is Explore, and PD is Laugh.   The "Discordianism as short as possible" thread came up with those 1-word summaries, and I really like them. I think all 3 are useful, and probably necessary for a good understanding. We tend to focus a lot on the Think bit, ignoring the laugh and explore. I think that's a negative trend, though the GASMs are reversing it.

Rough attempt for Laugh, but it needs work.
Do you know where you are?
This comedy club fleating through the stars?
This is your life. This is your journey.
Welcome to your EDS Absurdity.

Don't panic, you're not here to be depressed.
You were born here.
This is your world. This is your life. This is all you know.

Beneath you, you can see the floor made by your parents and teachers.
To your left and right, society, media, and your peers make two walls.
Above you, there is a ceiling just barely too high to touch: these are your dreams.
Behind you, the darkest shadows are cast on the third wall, the wall made by your fears.
The light shines from the stage in front of you, through the fourth wall.
But this wall is not a wall. There is glass here, and you can see the comedians.

These six sides hold you in, safe within a tiny room of order.
Touch the wall, feel the glass cutting off the sound.
What is this wall? Why is it different from the other sides?

You made this wall.
The light shines through it, but it still stops all noise as surely as a solid wall.
It is your beliefs, your thoughts, your identity.
Every time you tell yourself, "I am this, I am that, I am not these other things," you make the wall thicker, more rigid, and it cuts off the joy further.
The stronger your beliefs, the stronger the wall becomes.

You can break the wall, if you chose.
If you are not afraid to hear the jokes, laugh at the world and yourself.
Or you can build it thicker, making them closing yourself into the safely familiar.
It doesn't matter which beliefs make the wall; they all block the laughter.

minuspace

#11
I like this.

During the black-out is when the shadows first turned.
First they were demons like furies of old
Traveling with lifted strangers untold.

The darkness took shape before our well
Dragging me down their flight overhead
Making me crawl the floor o' death's bed.

Folding from walls or corners to the ground
The roof a cascading canopy of sound
Rounding down time with smooth cursive motion
Flattening heads plain into miscellaneous token

[pix soon (need adhesive...)]