Monday, October 5, 2009

The Road Behind us as we travel FORword

“The road behind us as we travel forward:”

We can look back along the dusty path, two roads diverged from an urban jungle…
A spork in the road.
A path chosen that leads through ideas, innovation and technology
Strife, struggle, impulse, revolution—a superior risotto eating utensil
Documentation of all this somehow…and then we wonder.
A life full of wonder, a WONDERFUL life.
Financial planning problem solving dissolved like sea salt in Brita filtered water
To a history forgotten…but still exists, CAPITALISMO!
Unfair free trade, fair trade comes at is costs.
A new beginning in a culmination of progress
Powerful ideas.
Put to rest.
Come to life!
Because…“There is nothing more POWERFUL than an idea whose TIME has COME!
Jesus laughs as Buddha weeps
Both all knowing omniscient unconscious synonyms: Sun/God, ignorance is common, above antonyms, are just the norm, underground synonyms, then peace, now war.
Parallels…like train tracks, but what causes train wrecks?
Derails—freedom from the track.
Free by any means, freedom, it means!
Yesterday I was sitting at an infamous dive bar staring at its red bricks.
Realizing I never really read books.
I read Inscriptions on the wall
Red ink messages engraved on red bricks.
I continued to read.
Two question marks the spot
“X “marks the spot?
And exclamations, the way its read, or the way we read it, or the color red.
Read red words on red bricks and tell your friends red bricked stories and how you read them on red bricks.
Tangible thoughts coming to life expectancy glistened…like morning dew drops—Listened…
Like she wanted me to…
Shooting stars in the distance dancing across our milky way
And…today I’ve FOUND my way!
But tomorrow I walk on longer, windy roads, leading to windy desert oases.
Windy windy roads of frosted memories.
Jogging to stay in shape, and remembering that just jogged my memory…
FIGMENTS of imagination, creating a MANIFESTATION OF THE PEACE
Is just one puzzle piece.
Please offer silence, one piece at a time.
Or, offer peace please.
Feel and seal the deal, our rights are freedom of thought, freedom to WRITE!
Though thought without the “t” its just a conjunction I propose a position
An omission of prose, cause I forgot the “T’s” in though(t)s {those} THOUGH’T’S,
So I guess they weren’t really THOSE THOUGHTS!
Existe un momento…to feel an emotion entre tiempo y espacio…
Space vs. Time
¿Pero cuantos….e quando?
Tangible vs. Intangible
Nonsensical pain and pleasure: enlightenment nirvana, black white, suffering and non suffering…all…possible…Even plausible!
Sitting ovations oddly applausable.
Performances appeasable, palpable, edible and even palatable.
We will always have love and sacrifice…
Are you afraid, or a frayed knot?
I am NOT afraid.
You are a knot tied to the pillars of untangled tangible philosophies neglected by people who never quite respected your analogies
Monologues are left unspoken to be read in your secret diaries.
Burn the edges to seal in security. Lock out insecurity.
No longer a frayed knot.
No longer afraid, I am NOT.

By Trent Hartman, Meaningless Metaphors
“The road behind us as we travel forward”
A Compilation of collected metaphorical nonsense: 9/29/09
A member of the Vetted Word Community: “Poets Wanted”

Friday, July 10, 2009


You're gorgeous...
But not that melancholy self loathing I wish I had you--
Love poem tantalizing unattainable...
You are gorgeous!
Oh so sweet like mango juices pumping through veins of deliciousness
Intrinsic within
Self Reason
Crimes against personal
To think otherwise
No surprise
Time suspended
Like sunrise...
Love repeated.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Coffee President

I Like My Coffee How I Like My Presidents

by Trent Hartman

I like my coffee how I like my Presidents. Shade grown in Indonesia and cultivated on the hills of pacific islands, or grown by ancestors in the heartland of Kenya, the cradle of human civilization. Picked, dried and roasted by hand on what were once large coca fields, now running profitable organic ventures. I like my coffee like I like my President, drinking it first thing in the morning and digested with a glimmer of freedom knowing that is why I am a citizen of this world.

Fairly Traded to be consumed by an alleged free market from all parts of the world sometimes for $4.28 a cup. A marked up price attempted possibly batched by a bad barista, or so inorganically streamlined that you are assured it will get your day going. Or served from your

favorite cafe, by your best friend and barista who creates a simple cup of joe into a masterpiece. A delicious latte with a good friend, profound, articulate and innovative conversation to spark ideas that caress your eagerness to follow your dreams. I like my coffee like I like my Presidents, shared with cobblers and tailors, artists and CEOs at cafes around the world, short pulled espresso shots or hot and sweet like a Cuban cigar, sticky and dark like a Turkish or mastered to perfection with a small hand crafted dessert morsel.

I like my coffee like I like my President, economically bailed out or not, I still need it everyday, all day, and even sometimes at night, its the reassuring blend of filtered and roasted goodness that I am addicted to.

I like my coffee how I like my Presidents, black, bold and in the morning!

-- Trent Hartman
Meaningless Metaphors

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

a love poem.

Resonating profoundly among boundless empires of our desires purges the urge of simple words

Placed on a pages to provoke unexpected visual provocation, to you my invocation:

A blessed and sacred and subtle temptation of words with recognition of our prize possession

A benediction more delicious than two forms of eggs benedict; blessed by holy water and mixed in bottomless vats of crystalline champaign bubbles bubbles toils and recoils all insignificant troubles.

Do you still want the illusion of unspoken conversations, the unlocking of secrets and adherence of communication?

To break down barriers and be the barer of my best kept secret...

Secrets kept best...

Quiet walks and silent sleepless nights, nostalgia of procrastination, time and solitude.



Penetrating unforeseen barriers so deep in the drudges of desire that transcendence itself seems to have no merit more than a simple word, enlightenment.

The light in you shines so bright it lights the light in me as you begin to enlighten me so vividly and proudly.

My truth, unobstructed by ego. And pretty.

Contradictions so benevolent they spray unadulterated dreams of insight unseen to any manipulated mess of manifested blurriness.

And to this I confess.


Pure in its form.

Unlike any other.

Like pristine rain drops on glistening concrete streets...


I lay awake late at night with no one watching is if semi discreet--

fantasies of you as I sleep, but battling nothing as my wants and needs are complete.

A Neo-Exestential outlook on something so essential, it must be...


Virgo Nihilist using your words to compile this manifestation of unaltered ART.

Come TRAVEL with me. Wine. Warmth, Giving and Receiving--


All expectations met and yet...

Im still falling...



Friday, December 5, 2008

Live Love Live

With or without $
its all the same
Happiness to protect
Freedom to achieve
Listen & Learn
Live Love Live

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Meaningless Quote...

"There are men who can write poetry, and there are men who can read balance sheets. The men who can read balance sheets cannot write."
-Henry R. Luce

Friday, October 10, 2008

The Modernism Prism

1the modernism prism...
1 like thoughts put down to rest.
1 OR, unadulteRated R Rated
1 cynical freedom of the press.
1 Reflected and Refracted
1 Precisely sliced-
1 Like a surgeon...
1 Extracted
1 Like dictators
1 limiting.
1 morals
1 religion.
1 Controlled.
1 Like dice rolled
1 pit bosses and house favoured
1 In at life's odds
1 Strife.
1 Excite.d.
1 Adventure.s.
1 Repent
1 Confess
1 -or-
1 Believe
1 and
1 Achieve!