Lullaby No. 5 – Born into the Noise

Pour out your soul

In the deterioration of your thought

As the delegation

Of futures’ promises

Binds your hands to your back

For you must learn to see with your eyes

And not your touch

Cease the blinding of the wool

That you pull over your heart

In the comfort of the corporate void

An abstraction of your existential digression

The drifter was no more

Instead you justified your motions

With a Reason

Through choppy seas

You stayed your course

The signs of God

Your only direction

In the aftermath of your rebirth

Born into the noise

And whip of the whirlwind

That stirred your dreams

Of once before

The want of absolute perfection

Despite the fine grain of your reality

And the rough fabric of your existence

You drove an impeccable line of your intellect

To the creation of a form

That defined the context of your new belief

The end no longer the juxtaposition of the journey

Rather found itself forming in every thought

The daring journey across the Sea

A Reason to move forward

In and of Itself

Filling the swells of your heart

With fantasies of your situation

That would constitute an end

All illusions that bore your vessel

Along the steady current of a hidden moon

The great Reason in the vast night sky

That caught the light of the stars

And passed it forth to You

To blessed guide you home

Where your family filled your dreams

With a reason for your being

A raison d'être

A cause

Greater than God

Or any Reason that came before

Carried you silent through the noise

And whip of the whirlwind

A storm that was never meant to end

So you just stayed your course

To no end


Jason Greendyk, www.jasongreendyk.com

Lullaby No. 4 - A Dark Hole

The world’s breath exhaled

An exhaustion that pulled you to life

Breaking the dawn

Out of your tension

A patient stroking of the drive

A straight line to focus on

To carry you through the smoke

And the mirrors that showed you

Your own infinitesimal cave

Of granular detail

A dark want of perfect order

That not a soul could entertain

A communist insurrection

Of the creative spirit

That drew gray lines

Across the black and white

And built uniform blocs

Of efficiencies

A dark hole in the essence of logic

Through dreams of intellectual filters

To improve the human experience

Like a red balloon let to the sky

Vast and blue like the sea

Into which we are thrown

Best bury your critique

In the clean appearance of things

And guide your direction

Through the filtering hole of Reason

To the high level of thought

That barred your execution

Lest you slip into the rational abyss

Buried in the minutia

By the passing of time

Always always slipping away

A chill down your spine

Would inspire your relevance

No matter how acute your passion

Your emotion is simply not

Important

More a mere reflection of your loss

Of the logical flow of things

In the interest of perfection

Your grip severed your ties

And you were nothing but free

At the world’s weary eyes

Your ideal a mere predilection

Of your divination of Reason

Born from the absence of your soul

In the theory of incompleteness

Within and without withal cast

Into the Sea

Where the old gods were a-swimmin’

In the doubtful nature

Of your existence

Jason Greendyk, www.jasongreendyk.com