Passover (microchip)


Put a microchip in my brain
I'm running out of space in my mind
Internet is so mundane
Everybody is online


Put a microchip in my brain
Make me easier to find
Start to think in different ways
Buy and sell and never die


Computers are complicated
Hardcore porn is simulated now
In crystal clear HD, downloaded at high speed..


Put a microchip in my brain

Maybe I can try to hide
Somewhere deep in cyberspace
When I don't want to feel time


Put a microchip in my brain

Seems I can't escape the times
Advertising inundates
Every corner of my mind


Martyrs for your entertainment
Passover for never ending mind
Begging to be able to die
Begging to be able to die
Begging to be able to die
Weeping and gnashing teeth
Begging to be able to die

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Every now and then I get an inkling

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Sociology of Modern Soil








Sociology of Modern Soil


A normal, steep path

Could be a wet, stony ground

Where seeds would not grow

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited (06.08.2019)/major grammatical errors/semantical errors:

This is a "haiku" that I've been inspired to write (to type, actually) in addition to some that were already exampled here (as practice haikus, if you will).  I seem to have had several disjointed little musings at certain periods in time (especially during the past week or so); an end result would seem to be the catharses at the outset (as the culmination of these).  I was just suddenly/momentarily finding myself in the mood to write/type something up (in this instance/in the spur).  It could really be pertaining to life in general; or something work-related as it relates to my critique of media culture & its direct influences to human behavior or just anybody's psychological makeup.  Rather, they could be reflections in where every aspect of it were deemed to be specifically subsumed under such interconnected/interrelated subjects: The Humanities, Politics, Economics & those complex theories of value (the ones established within our current corporate world or to its so-called "social relations", e.g., in Marxism/Capitalism/Advanced Capitalism/Technological Nationalism/Techno-populism/et al).  Please kindly bear with my philosophical note/comment at the moment, though quite a long one, because I tend to explain the idea behind the haiku (e.g., an underlying reason). The impetus could still be compelled by my sociological observations (e.g., a "sociological imagination", C. Wright Mills, 1959) or it could be merely a critique, as well.  It could be even much deeper, depending on one's sensibilities on the symbolisms applied altogether.  Yet again, on the surface, these 'language texts' are merely insightful/introspective notes.  I sincerely appreciate those who may have an affinity to haiku poems.  I thank you, for reading on, anyway!  At the end of the day, what one might deem that goes on within these texts were thought to simply have been based on the sheer empirical data that were also implied (i.e., not necessarily an original transcript).  The substance whereof are coming from my initial "thoughts"/"thought forms" on its possible factual contents or basis/subjects/topics/et al (as mental concreta/abstracta themselves).  In connection with these, it's not that I naturally have been able to collate those translatable elements of my experiences, but the recognition of differences in linguistic patterns in every theory of language  (or any other turn for that matter, e.g., Derrida's Differance or perhaps Wittgenstein's, Russell's, etc.) whose social explanation may not even be really intelligible/recognizable in any other type of a particular ordinary language (to connote Philosophical Linguistics/Linguistic Philosophy/Philosophy of Linguistics/Language/etc.) due to what's currently in use.  A language created may not at all correspond to those subjective thoughts (cultural perspective/-ism/cultural values/Culture Theory).  I have had taken some of these things into careful consideration due to its relative meaningfulness or meaninglessness (which are all valuable with respect to comparative analyses).  Those justifications were also due to the sentence structures that I used which were collectively based on certain paradigms that, at first I thought, as if I were alienated/defamiliarized/depersonalized to begin with (as I was uncomfortable at a time when using it, e.g., because of the said perspectivism that's applied to a rather general linguistic theory).  As if it were inhering to myself at a time, by being affected subtly, first of all, in an English-speaking world, & where its usage is subject to grammar rules; yet also (by any chance) a subconscious assimilation of certain external influences which constrainedly affects its supposed free creation.  But, at this point, as any sentence structure may still involve thematic relations, or themes, what could have necessitated my eventual critique (i.e., my criticism vs. my acceptance of the turn of the century—which could really be my possible main theme), in itself, is a cultural value, also emphasized earlier.  Something that which one may factor by, e.g., either socially manifesting as postmodernism, consumer behavior, or comprising social theories/theories of value, & other multifarious social factors within the purview of Critical Consciousness (e.g., Friere, P.).  Moral Philosophy may, at best, be a relevant/significant part of it.  Therefore, that being said, the decision point may either be a good thing or a bad thing (if I may begin moralizing, by the extension of many moralizing agents/factors).  Also, while one may have decided on these (i.e., writing/typing something up about Postmodern Thought or Critical Thought), he/she may either have started to become more culturally sensitive or culturally aware (as a learner of intercultural studies).  Just maybe.—If that is, indeed, or, is in fact, a politically correct statement (or if that was the case).  


Paraphrasing that:  Could one be certain that he/she is, in fact, anti-establishment so far, i.e., for deciding on writing/typing about Postmodern Thought & Critical Thought?  Or, just maybe, could he be just becoming more culturally sensitive or culturally aware (as a learner of intercultural studies)? 



In the same vein, as one might get prejudged (e.g., ..because of prejudgements, snap judgements, cultural biases, assumptions, apperception, misidentification, misrecognition, misconception, misunderstanding, preconceived notions, presuppositions,  et al), can he/she also be easily called (or, can he even call himself/herself) a nonconformist (for his/her possible or assumed/presumed nonconformity)?  




Cicadas Song

chiming serenade 

a thousand tiny cymbals

the cicadas sing

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New Shoots

coming from the earth

green shoots unraveling leaves

opening to the sun

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Can you believe this?

Hellpp!! Is there anybody there?

Where did everybody go?

This is so crazy!!

You won't believe my tale

Did I get swallowed by a whale?

No. Why are you so dumb?


You said you wanted to come!

You're worse than I am

What story?

Oh sorry ladies and gentlemen

This is what happened

Pay attention to this please


I had a problem with my car

It wouldn't take me far

So I ended up at this bar

It's surrounded by trees

I think there's a hooker here

She can give you a disease


I was drinking you know

Maybe a bit too much for my own good

Yes. Of course we had some food

That doesn't even rhyme!

I don't care. I have some time

Will you get to the point?

This was some crazy joint


Is this ever going to end?

My god!

The story is not that odd

Okay Okay

Have it your way

You're still my friend?


Finish already!

You want to go steady?

You are such a jerk

My god!

I'm sorry

Here's what happened


I had too much to drink. I needed to use the bathroom. I asked the

Security guard. He said go upstairs. I said okay

But instead of the bathroom, I went into a chatroom!!

Bang! Zoom!

Now it's locked and I can't get out!

On a Friday yet

I'll probably spend the whole weekend here

Who's going to feed the fish?

Did someone say Trump was Jewish?


Hellpp!! Get me outta here!! HELLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPP!!!!!



Author's Notes/Comments: 

I thought I would try something different. Don't you get tired of the same thing all the time? At least I tried. Is anybody here that can recommend me for a Nobel Prize or something?

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Say what?

Hold your horses!

Stop the presses!

Did I hear that Trump confesses?

Can it really be?

Oh em gee


Hold on

I made a boo-boo

Did it ever happen

You too?

I don't see or

Hear too well

El Oh El

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Just Want to Love You

Just want you ,


That's all


nothing else


just you


nothing extra




I just want to want to be with




and love you



Author's Notes/Comments: 

We talk everyday and I listen. I just want you to know that I love you and how important you are to me.

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          Art: A visual form of self expression. For Some, this may be a physical representation created with their body upon different mediums; it could be a verbal expression emited by sound waves coming from the vocal chords of one singing a song, or a verbal representation of poetic beauty. The results vary. Performing arts have been the main public attraction for centuries in many different cultures, displayed all over the world, for decades of time. After viewing the transition of multiple displays of art over time, we begin to understand the characteristic individuals expressing themselves. More than anything art is not just beauty from another; it is an understanding beyond judgement, it forms a new perspective within, that make the viewer understand themselves.

          They say "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" though what is beauty but a perception of momentary observation sent within the brain and communicated to our physical body, creating an emotional response. We as humans are wired so differently; each and every one of us will never exactly know what it is like to be another.  Yet if we seperate our consciousness from dependency, and learn to live by the basic principals and natural laws of the universe- with a balance of independence and intetependence, we will soon find that we as humans have a plethora of things in common.  Beauty, art, formation, creation, desire, addiction (and more)- all of these are but one view away from individual interpretation. Perhaps we are all of one image, entitling every being to free will of self expression in lieu to the grace of imperfect perfection. Though with the exemption of the highest powers granted identification of a sinner or a saint, how deep, beautiful and powerful can art truly be?

           For many, art is an identified beauty romanticized by common display to a public community. To those individuals it is just a play to view with costumed people reinacting a specific instance thru altered personas. Deep within that persona though, we may find a whole different definition of art. The one perspective that reflects more than meets the eye- becomes a story of an unrelatable life to the standard viewer; that persona becomes alive. Picture this, you sit in the audiance of a play rehersal for it's final recital. The stage full of characters display their script, illuminated by the faint spotlight upon just one character. Now zoom in on that one individual, see them, hear their voice, become them. As you stand in that spotlight radiating energy upon you, breathe, blink, and open your eyes and see. Imagine a stage of vanilla scented candles burning their aroma around you- lingering with your every step. Now, take your next breath before you quote Macbeth; are you intimidated? Are you empowered? Has every rehersal prior till taught you to embrace these next words? As you exhale, smothering your one candle in hand with your breath you speak. "...Out, out, Brief candle! Lifes but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing." Standing center stage, everything you lived for, all you believe in, every muscle in your body contracting, heartbeat pulsating, breathing staggering, enriched within your soul, you told them how you feel. All opinions and perceptions from the outside stage-in, entruthed by your utter being, projected through another persona upon stage. Ironic, how they applaud in unison as though pressed at que by a button. Signifying nothing, each strut and fret you make upon stage- curtain close, and is heard no more. A poor player of a game called performing arts, you gasp, feeling every bit of your truth exposed. Curtain closed, they shout and hooray, then go quiet. You relocate, next scene, chin up, spotlight on, curtain opens, and you look out to the audiance, still scathed from releasing the truth behind your words. You stop glancing around when such a face in the audiace halts you, looks deep into your eyes, unsettles you, connects with you, and you have the lucid realization that "this person is me." Into the audiance once more, you sit- bewildered that such a scene drew you in. Alas! You feel an understanding without judgement. You have now become the viewer that understandes with a changed perspective, you saw art, you felt beauty. And from then on, every display of character from another, you see different. You feel art has become a completely different altered form of reality. Welcome, you have now experienced the life within an image of artistic beauty.

             You see, being gifted, being talented or even a so called prodigy is nothing more than an identification placed upon your projected form of self expression. Drawing, painting, instrumental and vocal music, being a performing artist, beautician, hairstylist/groomer, interrior designer, athlete- there are so many ways to express oneself with all of our own unique potential. 

              Here I welcome you the pages of my exposed soul, the light and darkness within, to the recorded history of my life, accompained by the beauty of words, paintings, drawings, and photographs; perception of the world through my eyes. Welcome to THE ELEMENTS. Enjoy!

Miranda Baron

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Every Morning

Every morning,, when I wake up, 

I stop and take a while,

to remember what makes me happy,

the things that make me smile…


A baby’s laughter, 

flowers blooming,


holding hands.




a walk along the sand.


The aroma of cookies baking,

the smell of peanut butter in a jar…

My favorite book,

or music,

or movie…

gazing at the stars.


It takes me but a moment

and I’m sure there are things I’ve missed…

but it makes me eager to begin the new day


and start adding to my list.

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