Schism

I dislike heavy metal to the core. The sound of it makes me want to drown myself. But I had an extremely close friend for a dozen years who was obsessed with this genre and inadvertently I’ve absorbed a lot of metal-knowledge. It’s not that unfortunate, although it felt like torture listening to it. Let me explain that contradiction. You see, I’m a writer. I love good lyrics. I love researching physio-socio-psycho aspects of human life. It’s the thing that has fascinated me since childhood. Apart from trash metal, most variants of metal have very profound lyrics. Most people don’t realize it because they do not sit to analyze the depths. But there are so many interpretations, and peeling those layers can be quite enthralling. Honestly, as much as I hate the sound of metal, there’s a lot you can learn from this genre of music that you will never learn from any other type of music. Most metal songs will teach you about history, mythology, psychology, sociology, improve your vocabulary and so much more. I would prefer to read them instead of torturing myself with the sounds!

I adore the lyrics Maynard James Keenan comes up with. They’re a different level of psycho! I imagine him high on all kinds of drugs while he comes up with in-depth crazy-ass stuff like this. Maynard Keenan is quite the psychotic genius, somewhat like Dr. Hannibal from Silence of the Lambs. He’s a quick witted prodigy who can suddenly pounce to attack you{recalling the 1997 stage event where he sat choking that dude for a good ten minutes}. I wouldn’t dare to stand near him. But, I believe in giving credit where it is due. He’s a brilliant writer.

My usual preferred style of writing is also quite psychotic and layered. When I write a poem, I ensure there are a minimum of three interpretations. One is the obvious story. The second would be the underlying moral that most people comprehend. And there’s always a third that is extremely personal to me. The sole purpose of writing poetry is that I feel the joy of expressing myself without fearing revelation. It’s about feeling light after calling Ralph and not having to deal with the consequences of an actual confession! Although three is minimum, most of my poems have around seven interpretations, all of which imperatively appeal to me. If I’m revisiting Tool, I’m in quite the psycho mood. So let’s see what I come up with. Even I’m intrigued now! I only get ideas when I begin writing, so I have no clue about the direction I’m heading in! 😉

If you’re interested in the most acclaimed interpretations of this song that inspired me, one’s about discord brought about by perceived fundamental differences. Another way to interpret it would be the disintegration of Christianity into several denominations due to theological differences. You could also interpret it as how miscommunication creates a rift between lovers in a relationship that has fallen apart. I imagine four more interpretations to this song, but those would be my own opinion. So, I’ll refrain from publishing them out here.

Schism – poem by Ruelha

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
Even though my senses don't permit
Unfortunately it weighs in, my heart

The cause of this rift unknown
The seeds of dissonance sown
The fruits of this tree
Influencing my reality

Mildewed and smoldering
The absence of smoke isn't disconcerting
All of these burning embers
To be resolved by December

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
What once seemed tightly knit
Was just a vision of distort

Until they built the Tower of Babel
Nothing did seem to unravel
Concealed fundamental differences
The dawn of crippling offences

A famine of good communication
Plonked humanity in such a situation
Each side retaining individual credence
Self attested, non-cogent decadence 

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
Good intentions, not counterfeits
Dangling on a thread of last resort

Now it all seems conceited
Along with it, all goodness lay defeated
There once was a light
That I held on to so tight

This tangent of incoherence
Once a stronghold of resilience
What am I attempting to insinuate?
Will ponder until Christmas and debate

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
At the end of my wits
Don't want the decision to be just smart

So, what's it going to be?
A cameo in the form of poetry
All of this crippled communication
Laced with maleficent intentions

So what's it going to be?
Are you ready to put it in history?
Deceit and lies, a treasure chest
Never questioned or put to test

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
Soul and body split
From credible rationale no longer depart

Waited patiently to rediscover
Yet nothing substantial was uncovered
Given the graceful benefit of doubt
Misleading deviations poured from that spout

Love and respect was always guaranteed
Such is the foundation of the creed
Willfully maintained tenacity
Torn in the depths of inconsistent veracities

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
Even through the intermit
Residual cinders from the start

Dedicated to dismantle
What's already broken and crumbled
I give it till December
To approach in full candour

Because once I make that decision
I will follow through with precision
To end the atrocity
Of random monstrosity

I know the pieces fit
Because I've watched them fall apart
Not an iota of compassion
Not a smidgen of passion

Making excuses to exonerate
Fiery daggers that humiliate
I've done the math already
It ends in depressing tragedy

Yet still, just one final time
I'll let it breathe like wine
Hopes of an infusion of honesty
Wean from the umbrage of audacity

- RUELHA
www.ruelha.com
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Image source and credit: www.shivashaktibhava.wordpress.com

Disclaimer: This poem is purely literary. Please read it with an open mind and out of respect for the written word. To me, writing is my life. There is nothing I love more. I have a very creative imagination. Most of my poems do not hint at my life/situation. Kindly refrain from drawing such parallels. Much of what I write is purely fictional. Situations and examples may be hypothetical. I have always written about topics I am passionate about – Christianity, makeup, melancholic poetry, food, romance, women’s issues, soulful music, narratives, etc. Given the circumstances, my gender, situation, geography, etc., I feel the need to put up a disclaimer every time I write a romantic/melancholic/intense piece! Everyone is entitled to an opinion. But, please don’t interpret this poem in an unintended way. That is just my humble request. Please extend me the grace of excusing typos if you notice any. I seldom ever edit due to time constraints. This poem contains material unsuitable for children.

Lyrics of Schism by Tool

I know the pieces fit cuz 
I watched them fall away
Mildewed and smoldering. 
Fundamental differing.

Pure intention juxtaposed 
will set two lovers souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes 
testing our communication

The light that fueled our fire then
 has burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end 
crippling our communication.

I know the pieces fit cuz I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over.
To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication

The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.
There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away.
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting

I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication.
Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any
Sense of compassion
Between supposed lovers/brothers