The End of History

The End of History

Let us remove all history.
Let us erase all tradition.
Let us purge ourselves of every story
until we arrive at this moment…
Adrift, but free of ancient ties.

Let us round all edges.
Let us soften the contrast between us.
Let us muddle all hues.
Let us blend in, fit in and slide in.
Let’s let everything go until
each and everything about us is
going, going…gone.

Nameless Historically Ambiguous Art

Historically Ambiguous Art

 

Let us forget the names of every bridge.
Let us forget the names of every street.
Let us forget the names of every building.
Let us forget the names of every river, stream and creek.
Let’s not rename but un-name everything.

Let us void anything referencing any moment
from any past anywhere at any time.
Then we’ll meld together and hum.

Let us make music into a single note…
A buzzing droning sound without words.
It’s what we’ll hear in our heads
after we’ve freed ourselves from history.

Let’s unburden ourselves of words by severing their roots.
Let’s excuse ourselves from all languages.
Let’s build another tower of babble and hum.
But then, what is that?

Aldkfji ierjddl adlfkd oeirue
oeiruei sldkfjv aodif, alsdkf.
Eoridk lsdfkjdk aldkfdk irkrp,
oeik oaidfd ldkfdjdk.

111000111000111000
00011100110011001100
110011001100110011001100
000011110000111100011100

Gregory Zeorlin 5/11/2017 @ 7:33am

Knowing, Watching, Waiting

Grace Cathedral Labyrinth, San Francisco, CA.

Knowing, Waiting, Watching

Oh you know I want to believe
in something more
than me or you.
I want to believe in something,
more than us.

But this thing called religion.
Well I’m not sure I trust
all it’s made up to be.

I’ve said it once
and I’ll say it once more…
Not sure God entered through
any church door.

But don’t slam that door on me.
I’ve been wrong so many times before.
Or maybe the door is open wide,
so vast it’s unseen.
As if we’ve walked in and out,
and out and in not even knowing it.
And God’s unknown too…

Or maybe the door only exits
as an opening to the outside world,
where God’s knowing, watching and waiting.

Gregory Zeorlin 10/14/2016 @ 10:43am.
Inside Grace Cathedral, San Francisco, CA

 

My Olympian Throne

My Olympian Throne

The day is young the goals are high!
My television set is glowing.
The Summer Olympics are on again,
“Go America!” my patriotism is showing.

I’m in my chair and set to go!
I’ll cheer my team while knowing,
the refrigerator’s full of cold cuts
and America’s beer will be flowing.

It’s the Olympics say! I know what I know!
I’ll coach my team to gold!
I’ve learned a lot by sitting in this chair
that sports a bit of mold.

When the race is tough and I’ve had enough
to the refrigerator I’ll retreat.
I need to eat a little more energy
to fight away defeat.

Beer and meat are the training tools,
as we Olympian champions know.
Eat quickly and don’t drink too slowly
when going for Olympic gold!

Gregory Zeorlin 8/12/2016

Beyond the Comfort Zone

 

Beyond the Comfort Zone

 

Try to avoid going beyond the comfort zone.
Don’t ever trip or take a tumble.
Do what we know over and over again,
for a while we’ll even avoid some troubles.

 

Shun all those questions we cannot answer.
Let’s just know what’s already well-known.
Limit our quest and be the very best,
at spinning on our own point of center.

 

Don’t enter a room full of strangers
lest we lose our sense of importance and control.
The world is big, even bigger than us,
such realization is a blow to our fragile egos.

 

We’re creatures of habit, me and you,
we avoid what seems foreign or nearly new.
But I’m going to trip and tumble, just you watch.
Or join me just beyond the lines of the comfort zone.

 

Do you want to try something new?
Step out of a rut we’ve made so long and way too deep?
Over and over we form neat lines and rows
before going complacently to prepaid graves with tombstones.

 

Let’s be brave for once or even twice.
Why not be set free while we’re still living?
Sing a song, do a dance, write a poem, take a chance
of stepping beyond what’s already known.

 

Life’s troubles will eventually find us, ready or not.
And deepest dreams will fail to appease us.
We’ll toss and we’ll turn or try to run away,
from many things we’ve trapped too long inside us.

 

What does it take to jump beyond the comfort zone?
Tomorrow’s too far away and yesterday’s long gone.
If you wait till things seem perfect you’ll miss another chance
and get buried head to toe, in the comfort zone.

 

Gregory Zeorlin 8/8/2016 @ 11am
The adult world is a place of people set in our ways who become skeptics and cynics. We avoid change out of the fear making mistakes and not looking perfect. We focus on our public image at the cost of neglecting our human spirit. We miss out on doing things that could enrich our lives even if we must trip sometimes to do them.

Rickety Gridlock 1

We like to uses grids to understand and plan our world. Think about road maps, electrical schematics, etc. The same grids which give us a system also entrap. We can become stuck and gridlock isn’t just about road traffic. Gridlock is also the result of habits and assumptions. So I’ve created a set of grids which take common things and organize them into something that is pleasing and engaging to view. Call it making order out of chaos…mixed with some magic and logic. I’ve said it all along…those four things are what creates art.

I also use my art to transform common things like cell phone cases, pillows and clothes. So this post is about my art and my various ways of earning a living. If I don’t cheer about my work  no one will see it. It’s what artists do to keep working.

Here is a piece of my current artwork (on left side) along with images of a few ways I use my art to bring beauty into everyday life. And yes, you can order pieces inspired by my art from my shop at Redbubble.

Consider spreading my ideas and art around with your friends. Share this post.

Rickety Gridlock 1

Rickety Gridlock 1. 2016. Digital Photograph.

Rickety Gridlock 1: PillowFullSizeRender (3)

Jake & Jayleen Push Obscure Poetry

My last blog post had a big impact on many imaginary readers. Surely this post will generate even more interest by real and imaginary people out there. And if it does, read these poems from a digital book titled “Ten Cent Poetry” as they are real… http://www.zeorlinart.com/Ten_Cent_Poetry_BOOK_v1_secure_v1.pdf . (If anyone reads this, share it. Ah shucks, why not?)

Jake and Jayleen promote poetry

 

Imaginary People of April

 

Imaginary People of April*

An imaginary person,
once said to me, or someone,
“Hey! Don’t send me
any more of your poetry!
Cause’ I don’t need any poetry.
All I need is television!
Can’t you see? Good god man!
Why can’t you see?”

 

So a name was dropped from the list
of imaginary people needing poetry
because another imaginary person
had lost their imagination to television.
And who can blame them?
It’s so pretty inside there.

 

Then another imaginary person
said to me, or someone, “Hey!
Hey don’t send me any poetry!
Dammit no!
Cause’ all I need is a telephone.
Yeah, a telephone
with a screen that glows!”

 

So that imaginary person
was dropped from the list
of those needing poetry.
Cause’ with a cell phone
you rattle words and text them too.
And what would an imaginary person
do with poetry,
I ask you?

 

Yet another imaginary person yelled
right at me, or someone,
“Don’t send me any of that poetry!
Oh no! What I need is
small batch fried chicken from KFC
and hand rolled taquitos, too.
Skip them hand written poems I’m telling you!
I can’t eat words and neither can you!”

 
So I, or someone, deleted that imaginary person
off the list of those needing poetry.
Fat had gained another mind.
And maybe cheese is more pleasing, than poetry.

 

Unfortunately another imaginary person
texted me, or someone,
“What the hell! More poetry?
What I need is more football, basketball,
baseball and wrestling too!
I don’t need any poetry you wimpy fool!”

 

So I, or someone else,
deleted and deleted
and deleted some more
until every person needing poetry,
was off the list.
But not a single person
removed from the list realized
poetry was gone.
Every person needing poetry
became part of a poem.
And these imaginary people slowly faded
into the unread poem until they were
forever and ever, forgotten.
Like this poem.

 

Gregory Zeorlin 4/3/2016 11:30pm

*April is National Poetry Month. Who reads poetry? Perhaps writers of poetry work for imaginary readers who should be allowed to fade away.  But if you do read poetry, you can read my new digital book titled “TEN CENT POETRY.