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Charity of spirit shared
love and dreams of ideal formsBirth of the PoetThey call me Poetdivision of attentionsIn loveMore poetics
The tragedy of inflictionMore poetry|
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| These words for you, my friends |
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Welcome wayfarers! I am joyful you have come to this crossroads, for I've much to share. My name if knew it you not, is Tyler Joseph Cusick, a.k.a Poet,a.k.a.The golden one,a.k.a. Deitysjuel. I am delighted to find you here, and hope you might leave an introduction on my message board(catalouging my readers,quality control)along with any thoughts upon the work that is my life. I was born on febuary 20th 1980, in evening correspondence with the U.S. hockey teams olympic victory. This has lead me to turn 20 on 2/20/2000, and that, along with my golden hair, has brought me the relative moniker. Writing generally all my life, I began to travel at 16, hitching cross country from my homeland of Fargo. My final destination was but a few miles away from Mexico,where I stayed for about two months... Ah! But I begin too distant from the begining, where conceptual form fashioned these hands, this mouth, and mind for your understanding... It Begins It began with the warmth of a newspring form. Warriors came before me, guarding the halls of my mothers womb, so my entrance might be protected from interlopers, though there be none. Perhaps we are all begun with a sense of nobility in these,our protectorate brothers sacrifice. I know I hold in highest regard the martyrs whom supplanted my form in thier perishing, We ultimately have become one being, for I, in my first heartbeats, came to absorb and compliment their form to my own. Perhaps this, indeed, is a vanity then, for to hold that to which I became in such regards is, ultimately, to recieve upon myself thier bestowments. So be it, unabashed I claimed my superiority over these first struggling masses, and unreluctant I claim, in those initial reflections, a drive to rise likewise to the echelons summit in this societies opulent character. I daresay the thaw of spring was herald to my coming, for, nine months before I first took independant breath of this world humors, summer was coming into a bloom upon the end of an age, a decade of the free enterprise of revelry. The spirit was one of disavowment, whereupon the congnition that the joyful spirit of days past was quickly replaced with a more sterile and reserved tone. These former times of indulgence had laid bare the decadent spirit of a innocent society, and the dwellers therein were about to learn the heavy exactions of their extremities consequence. Gone was the open sexuality characterised in the discos and clubs, replaced now with the sudden shocking sense of responsibility found with the sudden influx of children effected as a result of those thoughtless and heedless indulgences. Entering was a cynical, and oft conservative mindset equipped with single minded intent to make capital and go through a collective rehabilitation from those heady days. With the sudden realisation of the H.I.V. virus, Americas libedo was suddenly turned sour, and the ever looming recession brought a frantic struggle to make capital by whatever means necessary. To such ends, war was declared on drug use, with intent to infuse a sense of sobriety while underhandedly selling the products of which the domestic war was aimed in order to fund a foreign war, which, as history shows, was itself created for the furtherment of capital. It was a time of desperate organization, and collective disenchantment, where tantric method gave way to superficial fufillment, one where the media became god and America began to open its drug hazed eyes to a more ambitious, and less concienious awareness. It was in this time I came to manifest myself, in one remembered not for the guise of enlightened thought, but fearful xenophobia, individualistic ambition, and an increasing awareness of the inflating population in this final, and in many ways fatal, baby boom. In the early morning twilight of Febuary twentieth, nineteen hundred and eighty , Debra Jean Hagen bore her second child into the world. It was with fair skin and hair that this illustrious youth met the glaring lights of the St. John hospital delivery room in Fargo, North Dakota. Attended by Doctor Ronald Borowitz, I met the cool sterility of the new world I was to grace with a quiet disposition, a smile of delight upon my tender face. Tragically, my father was not allowed in the sublime moment of my birth, for I was born out of wedlock, and the insistent nuns held steadfast in ther traditions. Present in waiting was my father, Michael Timothy Cusick, my Godfather Craig Ness, and my brother Toy Thomas Cusick along with a few select family friends. Cigars were distributed in the traditional celebratory mood, of the brand titled El Productos, during which time, the cleansing and registering of my personage took place. After these proceedings, I was brought to my parents adoring faces, lavished with attentions, and then placed in the room with the rest of the recently birthed children. There I was caretaken for three days, with excursions out to my parents as the schedule permitted. One of the first occurances I met with was in the hospital waiting room during one of these subsequent visits, in which the United States Olympic hockey team secured the gold medal. It seems I was destined for some revelry in my presence, despite that the disposition I held then, and through much of my life was one remarked upon as reserved,and I daresay introspective. After my discharge from the hospital, I was taken to greet my new, and third dwelling. An approximately fifteen minute drive delivered me to a collection of trailers in which nestled a comfortable home, its white walls to compliment the snowy backdrop with a red trim which contrasted the pallour of the frozen grounds. Doubtless this exterior was to shape my perception of conformist and nonconformist coexistance in coming years,and perhaps find some association with the tale of snow white. The interior belayed a comfort in humble surroundings, with quazi-wooden vallure, and minimalist arrangments. It was here that I first gathered the sense in which the world was progressing, and the mindsets which formed my realisations of human interaction. |
| Fargo | North Dakota | 58103 |
 deitysjuel@aol.com |
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| Visitors: 03224 |