Menu Home

This Cartesian Pain

What would you think of a reworked game of chutes and ladders called sloots and ladders? In this version, similarly, you climb up the ladders but go down on the sloots. Granted I would undoubtedly cheat by attesting a sore neck…

Hello again, my friends! I’ve thought of you often. It took me a bit of time to adjust to what privately I’ve been referring to as my “pandemic palsy”. A bizarre combination of trepidation, guilt and general unrest wherein you remain perpetually unmoving, held immobile by self-imposed celestial chains stronger even than blind faith. But hey, fuck that noise, let’s GO!

The ink is still drying on this one if you’ll indulge the antiquated cliche. There are several pieces I’ve been sitting on but yesterday’s seems more appropriate.

You really have to relax into the meter here by the way if it’s to flow correctly.


This Cartesian Pain, March 23, 2020.

The brighter a light all the longer its shadow

But despair is needed if we’re to define joy

Sadnesses’ absence can’t guarantee you’re aglow

An insidiously paradoxical ploy

Engaging united is the crux of this game

Even if in practice we must stay apart

Insignificant is assignation of blame

Coordinates trivial to even Descartes

Connecting those twin theories is hardly a stretch

Suffering’s necessary and worked into fate

But concordant efforts can redesign grim sketch

Such that the worst of nightmares we can mitigate.


I find myself a peculiar combination of inspired and morose these days, So many stories of selflessness and yet avarice like they’re fighting over the soul of humanity like some queer demonic chess game. Nobody knows what the end result will be or how bad this may get but what is indisputable is that those detrimental effects will be lessened if we react collectively and with proper cohesion. Let me rephrase, Stop fucking up, MORONS.

Given the fact I no longer have a job, like much of the province suddenly, I should be able to communicate on a more frequent basis. Plus, with my cabin fever is already reaching a state, my impending mental deterioration should at the least be entertaining for the viewership. Enjoy!

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: writing

dReadpoetssobriety

A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.

1 reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: