The Curious Adventures of Gordan's Thoughts

PRODIGAL POETRY

(Inspired by the SAT 2018-19 Wordlist)

I was adamant about writing
this aberration of a poem
However boisterous, brusque
However bombastic or brazen

A cacophony of words
concocted on the screen
A decorous debauchery
derived
from the dictionary

What eccentric elicitation
to evoke an efficacy
I simply cannot fathom
this fastidious fidelity

Tis grandiose grandiloquence,
garrulous to say the least
Yet somehow this heterogenous hegemony
reflects the dreams of a hedonist

It takes an idiosyncratic iconoclast
to integrate such irrevocable irreverence
Just to juxtapose the difference
between the jubilant and the judicious

By now, half of you are pining for kudos
and the other half await the knell
For some, language is lucid and heavenly;
to others, it’s licentious, lethargic – it’s hell

For me, I’m a maverick at manifesting manuscripts,
but mercurial when mitigating a myriad of metamorphoses
And you? Are you a nomadic neophyte?
Or a nefarious novice fighting the nebulous fight?

These questions have no ostensibly objective answers –
From the perspective of the young, the old are obsolete
In the eyes of the elders, youth are oblivious to orthodoxy
Each finds the other to be onerous and obstinate
Blinded by humanity’s ostentatious opulence

Such are the paradoxical paradigms that perplex people:
Are we the partisans of pejorative pathology?
Are we the potentate of a precocious precipice?
Or are we plainly presumptuous in our prepossessing preponderance?

What could quench this quixotic quagmire?
What could quell this quandary of querulous queries?
Reveling in the rebellion of words that we write
Wondering if this recalcitrant rant can be reprieved.

This surfeit of saliently scrupulous syntax
Though superfluous, the sagacity is surreptitiously stoic
The torturous tirade tells tales of temperance
Of tenable temerity, truculently intrepid

For utilitarian purposes, a utopia usurped
To allude the understanding of ubiquitously underrated words
Vehemently variegated yet vociferous and verbose
Though the veracity is venerable, the vacillation is vacuous

Such wanton and whimsical words have been written
Some winsome and others wistful. So wallow in sorrow
Over why the list did not have xenophobic,
Nor xylography, or xerosis, not even xenolithic!

But somehow they’ve included “yoke”…
…this most certainly is a joke!
This effort zealously zooming to zenith
to await the final zephyr

 

MG

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Space,
as in the place
in our universe
where the planets
are placed?

Space,
as in the pauses
between sentences
where the spaces
are placed?

Space,
as in the boxes
of rooms we pay for
where the economy
defines our place?

Space,
as in the metaphorical oxygen
you need in order to breathe
because you’ve been suffocated by
a partner who doesn’t
know her place?

Space,
as in the physical reflection
of a human ego,
the amount one needs
so that they can grow?

Space,
as in conceptual nothingness
to remind you of everything
you now realise is meaningless
all because you wanted this thing…

…called space?

Space.

 

MG

 

Huxley instead of Hardy
Tolstoy rather than Tolkien
Why Dickens when we’ve Dostoevsky?
Oi, Kafka! Not Kerouac!
Get more Wilde then chill with the Wordsworth
Bring in Forster and replace Faulkner

…so maybe, just maybe, we could have a generation with jobs instead of “socialist warriors”.

 

#ReviseHowYouTeachLiterature

 

 

MG

Flash fiction

 

“God, grant us world peace,” prayed the old woman.

“God, keep the art alive,” prayed the young man.

“Without chaos, there would be no art. Without art, no peace. Peace exists because of chaos, without chaos an artless world would lack peace,” said God.

 

MG

She said she comes from Limerick.
I thought she said “I like limericks”.

He, however, came from Labrador.
I thought he had a labrador.

“I want to visit Hungary,” said Hugh.
I told them “Hugh is hungry!”

My parents had a nice trip to Bath
but did not bring back a bath.

Brother wanted to visit Turkey
so I bought him a roasted turkey.

I met a girl from Boring, Oregon,
totally thought she meant “Oregon’s boring”.

“I’m from North Yorkshire, a place called ‘Crackpot‘…”
I said, “Thought crackpots were illegal…?”

Good Grief, Idaho
Gore is in New Zealand
There’s a Hippo in Kentucky
and a Hooker in Oklahoma

Imalone in Wisconsin
Innaloo in Perth
An Inchmore of Ireland
is Antarctica’s Inexpressible Island 

Did you even know…
How long is the flight to Howlong?
There’s a New Erection in Virginia?
No Man’s Land is in England?
There’s Nowhere Else in Australia?

Obama’s in Japan.
Ogre’s in Latvia.
Pussy is in France.
Rectum is in Netherlands.

There’s a Ragged Ass Road in Canada
and Searchlight’s in Nevada.
Arizona has a Surprise
and England’s got a Thong.

All these names make me Uncertain, Texas
but Zap, North Dakota
Whynot, North Carolina?

 

MG

After years of exploring the Black Hole, I returned to humanity.

I tried to speak of this experience with humans, but not everyone was as open-minded. Of course, there were some who took an interest and enjoyed hearing of my travel journeys. Those were able to live vicariously through my shared experience.  But then there were the sceptics, the ones who thought I was speaking gibberish and manipulating people for the sake of attention.

I wasn’t, but I can understand why they’d felt that way. After the Black Hole, I actually understood much of what I didn’t even realize I had yet to know.

See, though the Black Hole was filled with a great deal of what people call “nothingness”, it was only in the surrender of ego did I finally see everything within the nothing.

In becoming so detached and removed from humanity, I finally grasped the essential elements that drive them in such a manner.

My distance showed me that humans are simple creatures with complex insecurities. Simple in that they are hedonistic, utilitarian, narcissistic, and competitive. They capable of anger but also joy, strength as well as weakness. They love as deeply as they hate, they rest as much as they work. Humans are simple in that they are multifaceted beings striving to become one.

But humans are also complex in that they often have displaced emotions. They project  insecurities in inappropriate manners at the wrong moment due to egocentric defense mechanisms. They are far more often controlled by ego rather than truth. Driven by image over honesty. Humans portray weaknesses as strengths and are offended when shown the same image from another angle.

Returning to humanity, I had to uproot examples within the human world in order to portray a realization to which I came within the Black Hole.

It is that one simple way to test the complexity of a human ego is to take one out of its comfort zone and see how it responds to change. See, the ego, combined with personal experience, is what determines how adaptable a person can be.

Prominent examples can be seen in the following areas within today’s humanity: racist arrogance (feels uncomfortable around people of different color), xenophobia (inability to communicate with those who speak other languages), gender bias (expects to be served by the opposite gender), religious intolerance (quick to disagree with any terminology pertaining to other beliefs), ageism (judgemental of people from other generations).

Having been hiding in the Black Hole for so long, I’d become so outdated as to what had been going on in the physical world. Much as I had obtained a theoretical understanding of the human ego before my journey’d commenced, it was not until I became void of my own did I see clearly the prominence of it within humanity.

…And with that newfound knowledge, as promised, I shared it with the world.

Not for the fame, not for the glory, but simply because I was curious and am now excited about the discovery.


Sincerely hope that you have enjoyed the adventure written in these three parts. It has been a delight journeying with you.

May you, too, reach a sense of enlightenment, acceptance, understanding, and peace from within. May you learn to exist on your own without relying on the ego.

I wish you all well. Thank you for reading. 

 

MG

 

 

 

First read Part One (Click for link)

I kept that promise — except… I did it metaphorically. No, I did not join NASA and fly to the physical Black Hole on which Einstein and Hawking both have astounding theories. Nay, I traveled to a metaphorical Black Hole and was sucked into a world that I never would have thought existed. A parallel universe on earth, so to speak, where time-zones collided with human measurements of time. Where humans behaved much like the depictions of demons I had read about in literature. Where all that I knew of the world had crumbled into a pile of what I now realize was a childish idealisation of humanity.

I went to the Black Hole — if anything, simply because I was curious. At that age, it was never about the glory or fame. It was never about the money or the risk. It was about the innocent curiosity of wanting to know what lay ahead.

Of discovering a secret that the world hadn’t.

Yes, it was an egocentric drive, but one with a positive outlet that drove me to do crazy, unheard of things that I can now understand experientially rather than limited to vocabulary. It was the push I’d needed at the time, incidentally, the one that pulled me so far away from my ego and into a universe without a self.

In this universe, my shell was invisible; the egocentric shell, the human cloak which I wear to shield myself from vermin, was not brought into this place.

It was disconcerting. I felt disoriented and “not my-self” because essentially, I was not my “self”, I was just… me. I floated around the universe as an unnoticed observer who tried to make its presence known by way of habitual behaviour derived from the egotistic persona. None of my actions were familiar, and yet they did not feel wrong at the same time.

I felt myself changing in this universe. Am I growing or am I stagnating? Am I moving forwards in the wrong direction or walking backwards in the right one? Am I floating or am I flying? Am I drifting or am I surrendering my power? Am I strong or am I weak?

These questions I’d pondered left-right-and-centre until years later, I reached a final conclusion.

Do those answers actually matter, or am I just distracting myself from escaping this void I’d been so curious to explore?

It was right at that moment a pathway magically appeared. A dark spot had appeared in the Black Hole (which was filled with a surprising amount of light, so much that you couldn’t actually see anything. You know that feeling of total darkness? Well imagine total brightness, it ain’t that pretty either.) But that darkness meant a way out, a way back into humanity.

A way back to me

The answer to the question was actually quite simple: the answer doesn’t matter. It’s what you do with the knowledge that counts.

Though anyone could’ve told me that in a second, the pathway only appeared because I had reached something they call acceptance. I had to accept simplicity and deny mediocrity.

After years of exploring the Black Hole, I returned to humanity.

I tried to speak of this experience with others, but…

 

Stay posted for Part III

 

MG

It’s hard to just “be you”
When you have an above average IQ
And an array of unexplored worldviews.
MG

We all have thoughts, we just think about different things. We all have ideas, we just want to achieve different results. We all have routines, we just want to be comfortable in the world we create for ourselves.

But there are thoughts I have and don’t verbally express because writing is my language and speaking is just a habit.

These are thoughts many people call “reactions”. In my head, I can think of countless sarcastic or logical comebacks that could easily put people in their places, but when the moments strike and conflict arises, I have learned to take the path of least resistance. Yes, it is true that once upon a younger year I was a more aggressive, more impulsive, and more abrasive version of me.

Much like any human who has ever come to terms with human nature, I, too, have had a fair share of mishaps. I have been narcissistic, arrogant, prideful, greedy, selfish, dishonest, undisciplined. I have been unnecessarily aggressive with those I’ve valued, undeniably obsessive over my own ego. I have been to many places that most people still avoid, and I have seen things most people would call fiction.

This was part of my journey, my past. It is an area of self that has taken a long time to let go of — as do most issues pertaining to the human ego.

I have been down a path most people (statistically as well as knowledgeably speaking) don’t return from, but here I am to tell the tale. Now, sitting here writing this, I am brought back to a statement I made at the age of nine, when I once dreamed of becoming an astronaut. I told people “When I become an astronaut, I will make it my mission to go down the Black Hole and make sure that I come back and tell the world of what’s really there.”

I kept that promise — except…

 

Stay posted for Part II

 

MG

Personal true story (5-minute read)

“Oh my god, did you read about the winner-chill on the innernet?” one of the girls shrieked. “It’s like the biggest one of the error. Apparently the chill is even hitting eye-rack this year!”

Winner-chill? Innernet? I felt like they were speaking another language.

What was a winner-chill? Honestly, I thought it was when someone wins a victory and then gets to chill afterwards.

And innernet, as if there was an unconscious net on the inside of us, catching our thoughts and dreams.

Biggest of the error…eye-rack…alright, they’d lost me there. Lost as I felt, I kept listening to the conversation, hoping to pick up more clues as to what they were on about.

After about ten minutes of back and forth, I finally understood they were speaking about the cold spell that they’d read about online. It was one of the coldest of the century; even some generally hot countries in the Middle East were having an unusual temperature shock!

Winner-chill… winter chill. Right.

Innernet… internet. Oh goodness, I had a lot to learn.

Error was apparently “era”, and an eye-rack was not, in fact, a rack where people placed their eyes. It was a country, Iraq.

I felt so dumb.

For me, the English I’d learned was either through reading or watching legitimate news channels. You know, those channels where people sound “pretentious” just because they communicate to be understood. They don’t speak just for the sake of expression, rather their words have meaning.

In this situation, the language my schoolmates spoke was known as “common tongue”, a form of syntax and pronunciation that met the bare minimum requirement for English verbal communication.

At the time, I had not yet been educated in the use of this language, having come from a background where the English I’d learned at school was a watered-down version taught by teachers who’d studied it as a second (or even third) language.

At home, I came from a family of high-achieving academics who refused to “dumb-down” their vocabulary. I had no choice but to raise my standards lest I be sorely misunderstood by those in my physical vicinity.

At that age, my written expression had far outpaced my verbal ability to articulate. I would write about advanced phenomena that my conscious mind didn’t even comprehend, yet my mouth could not accurately convey what I knew I wanted to say.

Finally, by the age of twenty-five, a linguistically-gifted friend observed an interesting occurrence within my syntax: all my life, I had been speaking “translated English”. Every word I wrote mirrored the language used in textbooks translated from European languages, and those I spoke actually made more sense when reworded in another language.

It had taken me twenty-five years to realize why I’d spent my life misunderstood and displaced…

Language is like art, or music. Just because the creator (or speaker) knows the meaning behind what is portrayed does not necessarily mean that those on the receiving end can digest it.

You might like your drawing, or your symphony, but to someone else, that drawing might be a scribble; that symphony may be a cacophony.

Why limit ourselves to expression when we can work towards communication? If we are misunderstood, chances are, we’re using a different language.

Dialogue goes both ways, not just one speaking a “foreign language” and expecting to be taken seriously.

Learn more languages (or improve your English), you’ll find better ways to be understood.

Peace,
MG

Every time I try to write a letter
I can find a million ways to better
The words I place right on the page
Paper and ink, a written stage
On which I placate my unrevealed self
As if this book was a display shelf
Bound, wrapped, unexposed, but true
The mysteries held in me, in you
For years, we tried to grow — apart
But I knew that you held my heart
For so long, we’d gone our separate ways
I thought you’d left me here to stay
Here we are, we meet again
Finally ready to make amends
The irony is that between us two
There’s no right or wrong — only truth
So, my dear, my wondrous creation
Are you here by obligation
Or did you come to finally concede
So that we may combine our realities…?

MG

%d bloggers like this: