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Anthony Fasciano

Anthony Fasciano ] Ricordando il Sole ] Aspettando la Signora Rodriguez ] [ Silent Systematic Symbols ]

Silent Systematic Symbols


My Sentences Before the Storm

These are my first words, each created with higher intentions than the normal constraints that their definition would allow. I offer them as my own, and as the collective understanding I have taken from the people and experiences I have witnessed or of which I have understood to be true of human nature. I am no more of a writer, than a poet, than a construction worker; I like to think of all these professions as equal as in any role that one takes if the effort to put your own voice into the equation is true. No malice is intended to anyone or any group for opinions opposing or radical to my own, as I entitle this doctrine of representative words, you rightfully may do the same. Read and remember me not for the words I choose and have written, but for the words you choose to change what it is you remember of me, what it is you know of yourself, and what it is that you remember of this world.


Silent Systematic Symbols (0)

- A small collection of big ideas. Instrumented by means of systematically placing words (which are constructed of pictured designs representing letters) symbolizing deeper meanings to invoke thought. Silently from my mind, to my fingers, to your eyes, to your mind, I present this collection.

Just a Story (1)

That’s All it is,

And that’s All it ever will be.

No matter how you look at it,

It’s just a Story.

The Art of Conversation (2)

A man has not spoken for years

He refuses to utter a single word.

The mind screams from every angle.

He sits in a room – bare and white.

The chair is facing a wall.

There are no windows.

Life is Perfect.

The door is locked.

A pen and paper lay on the floor.

Life is Perfect.

The decision to write, to sit, to wait, to think,

Is the only decision left in this world. The only true form of communication awaits its answer.

Life is Perfect.

Expectantly (3)

Given equal abilities and chance,

We all expectantly take different roads.

Thinking one way over another will be fulfilling,


I can be happy, and yet consciously and

Subconsciously I choose not to be.

If I were happy, then there would be no more -

Dreams and hopes that light my way.

I can travel so much farther fueled by my aspirations, then out of fulfillment.

We choose pain, embodied in our perception of it.

Expectantly we do not realize this.

Perfection is not perfect.

A perfect person will not exist without imperfections.

The Greatest Leader (4)

Leadership is not characteristically the best trait that a person could have.

A real leader is someone who

Follows only himself,

And influences no others to

Follow him.

The only great leaders we will ever learn about,

Are the ones we will never learn about.

Mid-Summer Night’s Lesson (5)

Today I passed my final,

And learned what it is to fail.

When there are no meaningful tests.

Value is internal – from within.

The machine cannot judge,

What it will not understand.

The only one,

The only thing I will ever understand,

Is myself.

A Fish’s Reflection (6)

She looks at me,

As I stare unyielding right back.

As if I have nothing better to do.

The silence is an understatement.

As if we are in a vacuum, and

The surroundings that are abundant are no more than a blur.

She makes a move, towards the corner, weary of my face.

I stare at her and her surroundings now,

Another one, similar in all ways comes and chases her.

And another one appears from the distance.

I cannot even give names to these faceless creatures.

She stops,

She looks at the blue,

She stares at the top.

Through the glass,

I wonder, and am entrenched in a world of thought,

Faster and more complicated than she could ever know,

At that moment.

I wonder what she is thinking about,

And if she cares what is on the other side.

I stop looking out of my car window.

As I pull away from the red light, turned green,

From a stoplight in a town I will most likely never revisit,

And pull my vision from a schoolyard, insignificant

In all my life’s activities,

I wonder,

The children, and fish, and myself, and today, and tomorrow, and when their will no longer be a tomorrow, and when there won’t be a today, and when there won’t be an I, and when there won’t be fish, and when there won’t be children.

In an Instance (7)

All I am, as all I will be is an Instance;

I am but a stalk of grass amongst a field of green.

One Instant, surrounded by Instances;

I blink and I am a different stalk altogether.

What Instance of the many will truly depict who I am?

I blink again and I am a single drop of dew,

Formed early morning, dangling on the tallest strand of grass.

Has my Instance been overlooked?

As it passed, disguised like a common leaf floating on the river?

One Instance, that is all I have,

I blink again and I am the air in the field,

Gone, just gone.

A Path on a Black Board (8)

Be proud of the past,

Dream of the future,

Stay strong during the present.

Please remember that at all times,

It is the present.

Irony (9)

If I told you that this was ironic.

You would expect it to be.

Irony will follow the followed.

Words will recapitulate their meaning, and self assert the reader.

Comedy is pain suppressed.

Laugh again.

Why (10)

From darkness there is light,

Which returns to darkness once again.

From my mind there is confusion,

From which thought is created, and can

Never be destroyed.

Then a single thought makes it all worth it.

Through my silent eyes, I will speak not but through the pen –

And enable the communication of my saturated vision as seen beyond my eyes.

On A Mission Towards Happiness (11)

If happiness is the Goal, what is the Means?

Are we happy when we reach our goal?

Or while we are reaching it?

Are we happy with delusions?

-- Of pleasure that disappears like the moments in our life, when we are presented with each and every next object of envy.

Do we ever realize we once were happy?

When we realize we are now sad,

And look back upon the small everyday things, we miss and crave.

Is happiness only a pleasurable sense that we only desire?

Because we have grown so accustomed to it?

Will I,

Ever realize what makes me Happy, or

Why I want to be Happy?

On a Mission towards happiness,

Do I just go on with life?

A Competitive Plague (12)

The biggest are not the most satisfying.

Anything is only as good as you make it.

In the end,

It is only you and a reflection.

A person and beliefs.

A thing and a thing.

I take your proof and put it aside, you will take my lack of proof for granted.

Addiction (13)

They are not the answer. Nor will they ever be.

They will bring you nothing, and cause nothing good.

They will instill uneccessary desires that will only leave voids for later longing.

In return for nothing they will take your freedom, and

Your control.

They will never be worth it, they must be stopped.

They must be tried, they are too good.

Ordered Indulgence (14)

Two extremities.

Two possible paths.

Only one can be chosen each day, each decision.

Yet, there is rational choice.

There is the option to sit and rest.

Be damned if you think turning around will help.

It has never just begun.

Nor, if you realize it, will it ever begin.

There will be no sunset while walking. Ever.

The apathy will stop if it is removed from the control.

A Child’s Mind (15)

Don’t stop me for the big things.

I saw those years ago.

Its all those little things I missed, that I care about.

I appreciate the piece more than puzzle.

Give me my hammer,

Or I will make one myself.

Either with a pen or a brick, I will create.

My thought is the only force stronger than my whole.

The only force I control –

I know what I am, and that is what makes me weak.

I cannot hide behind ignorance.

The same ignorance that forces the appearance of strength to come from the weak,

And the appearance of weakness from the strong.

Understand me here, and know not only how to overcome the chains of past thought,

But know how to cut the chains on everything – ever –

And create the tools, from nothing, and expect nothing – ever –

Beautiful Pain (16)

I gave everything I had, until nothing was left of myself.

Exhausted I could not see my depletion.

I died, a slow and unnoticeable death.

In the morning the sun that waits to rise, there rests a tension, a balance dependent on my own vision.

To keep my sight set on the path of the strong, a new day is all you need.

Everyday is a new day.

I will die. Will I once again be given the chance to be reborn?

Is this were my last day, would it be my last chance to perceive consciousness?

You think, While I Create (17)

If what I created,

If what I made, that did not exist before me,

If what I invented, that would not be here without my foresight,

If what I gave life, changed the world,

Would that change anything –

Inspiration (18)

Why must inspiration be deemed, as though good is its sole creator.

Cannot deceit, hatred, anger, fuel the greatest of imaginations?

Cannot the moral counterparts to those thwart the noblest of Intentions?

My imagination sours from myself, and my eternal internal struggle for freedom and emancipation from my inner conscious.

The day that I am whole, is the day I am I no longer influenced unknowingly.

On this day when perception of stimuli ceases to be interwoven into my perception of self, and judging without misappropriations what it is that is right, and who it is that I am, and where it is I should be going.

A Dream… (19)

When does the dream end?

Or better yet, when does it begin.

Could I still be five years old?

And with large open eyes,

Just be imagining what life will be like?

I closed those eyes then, and open them now,

And realize

They were never fully opened at all – for the most part I was only peering out of slits, drawn to the ever-changing light – so accustomed to its senseless nature.

The view is so much more interesting with the sunglasses off, with my eyes fully opened, with the tearing sun’s rays lifting me towards awakening and away from confusion, sometimes my eyes hurt, and that is a pain I must deal with.

An Oath (20)

My Obstacle must be overcome.

My fear must be conquered.

My life must never be the same again.

Never the same, in anyway.

Goodbye and Good morning,

Today is the day – I am Free.

My being now consumed by my own design.

Repeat daily.

Do not rinse, or erode.

Keep away from malicious thoughts with destructive natures.

Lucky (21)

Believe in idols for what they are worth, and talisman for the same.

If you believe in a symbol, believe in one that you yourself give meaning and define.

Never forget where that symbol comes from, and the truth behind it - and yourself.

Carry it in gold or a scrap of cloth, or not at all.

Luck will follow, if you never betray your own truths.

Luck isn’t real, everything else is.

Who Am I (22)

This is who I am,

With every word I choose over another, and thought that I choose to symbolize,

This is who I am.

This is the only way to describe myself.

Every single moment and action I do,

Is a compilation of nineteen years of effort

And an Infinite time span of evolution and caprice cosmic creation.

Seeking Stimuli (23)

If you are looking for it, you have already passed it by.

It is out there though.

It waits in the deepest of corners, and sulks in the darkest of orifices.

What are you looking for? Tell me, please?

If you need help, follow your past, follow yourself, follow the chain of stimuli that led you to look, because you have answered this question once before.

Meaning (24)

If I write,

If I expose myself,

If I offer explanations - Diagrams of my innermost thoughts,

Then as much as I intend it to,

It will make sense to me.

If you read this,

Then this word is now yours,

To be chewed and spit into your conscious.

I offer my words, to those willing to read, silently, contently, but "words" intent is never decided by the same person, there is always the reader and the author.

Art belongs to - and it’s meaning is defined by its creator, everything else and by everyone else is after thought.

Material words, material papers, and inks, and canvases, and frescoes are the afterthought, the products, the proof of existence, and the means to afterthought.

The End (25)

In the end there will be no definition.

It will resemble the times of the past.

You will only realize it is over, after it has started once again, and

You will not remember the past of where it came from.

Handed down perception coupled with handed down remnants of material truths will recapitulate life a hundreds times over.

I Am (26)

I am not real.

I exist only in my mind and on this page.

I am a filler of space.

I am a liar, and a cheat.

I steal, and I steal letters and words, but yet what I make is the only thing I Believe in.

I know what is true, and what is not.

I know where my beliefs stem from.

I am not afraid to be unoriginal – as that crime is worth every lashing if I never tried to be original at all.

I did not discover what came before me.

An unanswered dream that beckons me before my time was to be there when thought become thought and humans became beings.

What Is This? (27)

I look upon the void in my mind.

There are no cognitive decisions being processed,

Blank - to the world.

What is this mass that has been given such importance to?

Why did I obtain it?

Why did I exchange the value of sweat and toil, for impractical measures.

A square cuts into its already rectangular shape.

Colors dash in and out, contrasting with the stark white background.

Art is born, reality is revised, life lives.

I Wait (28)

I wait like the rest.

Yet, no expectations or demands leave my mind.

I offer no false pretenses,

There is nothing bigger than it actually is.

I do not expect to wait grandly, and yet I expect it all to be over in an instance, as all of my memories have so forth been.

Time has never fully existed.

I shall be sent,

I shall be looked upon, and inspected.

They shall ask me,

What have you known of yourself?

I shall reply- Everything.

Nothing more will be said, and

I will have no excuses to hide behind.

On Creativity (29)

Creativity, and therefore the results of creativity, are at the same time a mask disguising our own perception of reality, where sometimes we deny it and sometimes we over-glorify it, as it’s very own existence and creation, and therefore by its very own definition is a mark of achievement, where all demands are met to satisfy human survival, and we can act out the unnecessary necessaries that advance the world, and build towards an easier life -- and we act in a state of exaltation – celebrating existence and what we have changed.

Am I? (30)

Am I a painter if I paint?

I create art, Am I an Artist?

I write these words, am I a writer?

I think about life, am I to be considered a Philosopher?

Don’t’ worry about what I am.

I will be what I make of myself.

The Stranger (31)

By conventional standards,

He would be a lonely man.

But he sits, and he sits alone. He can walk just as well as a leader, as a follower, but he sits.

For this he is rewarded with the tranquility of peace of mind, as no false assumptions separates his view of himself and his surroundings.

A Personal Fable (32)

My life has been its own Tall-Tale,

An adventure, a story, a myth, an unparalleled epic journey,

Wouldn’t I like it to be?

Wouldn’t you?

I am just a boy in a chair.

The Scribe (33)

In all sense of terms: I write,

I decipher my mind and translate chemical reactions into muscle movements that strike at plastic keys.

I force myself to destroy the need for myself.

As it is, the better job I do to reveal my thoughts, the less of a need there is for me to further exist.

As I exist now in the keystrokes, and potential thoughts of those who interpret my textual mind. You, oh you the reader.

Blissful Ignorance (34)

I have the privilege of Youth, to leave these rhetorical questions unanswered, the who, the what, the when, and the rest of all the what, and all the when, left open to the impending days that lay before me.

The simple fact that they are left open to discovery is why I must uncover the truths behind these reflective walls of mystery – and simply walk the path yielding the greatest results, for whatever it is I choose – in that ignorance there is bliss.

Give Me (35)

Given the gift of human thought, and the ability to judge, we are only doomed to judge others, and then ourselves.

Given the ability to do what is right, we are only bound to do what is wrong.

Given the choice to remain true to ourselves, our choice will determine the rest.

The Allotted Head Stone (36)

The only thing I can declaratively say that I have learned is that no matter what is altered, and what happens, and how drastically different things become, I will know that nothing has changed, and that nothing will ever be the same.

The Sunset of Tomorrow (37)

What if this is as good as it gets?

What if I should expect no more joy than what I already have experienced?

And I replied, there will always be tomorrow’s sunset, and it will always be grander than the one before it – and if you can make this happen and you can see this, not with your eyes, but with your mind,

My friend, you can control the sun.

Take its waves, like the floating sea plant, and breathe air to the world, breathe life for those that want it, take what is free, take this knowledge and control it, take its waves and control the sun.

The Empty Playground (38)

A child will create a fortress, out of a sheet and a chair, and a plastic unyielding imagination.

He will do this, unafraid of the results.

He will use every available resource to create the best outcome, under his limited circumstances.

A child will create, not because he knows he can, but that he thinks he can’t.

I will never allow myself to grow up, or at least to consciously put constraints on my imagination.

A Cloudy Day (39)

On cloudy days,

The sun still shines.

Clouds are reminders with every ray that breaks the cumulus and reaches my eye, that the sun will not be stopped.

In fact, clouds only make the sun a more powerful thing.

The Tasks (40)

No objective,

Upon completion or upon failure is of waste.

Used energy, is used energy, and should be acclaimed for its simplicity of use and objective, not its outcome.

The use of the given gift, the ability to control energy, should never be taken lightly, and this step should never - not be taken.

An American Bushwhacker (41)

If I stay on the well-known path, I can blend in and never be followed.

If I make my own path, surely attempts to follow me will be made.

The paths I create will come with consequences.

If you will subject yourself to those, share my road and feel free to bask in such light as I have found and cultivated myself.

Life Part One

For Everyone Else (42)

It burns so great,

I cannot control it.

It hurts so badly and for so long now, that it grows neutral to my senses.

I am numb to the cancer that eats my mind.

I await a cure, but that is the cause of my death.

I am alive, like no other.

Now awkwardly smile.

The reality is blurred like that of a moving car’s window.

Life Part Two

This Is Mine (43)

I slow down.

I break apart what it is

I perceive, and slowly the pain, a clouded layer of confusion, disappears. The only thing

I felt was that of nothing at all.

There was no pain at all.

I was suffering from confusion.

I had the confusion of thoughts, ideas larger than the confines of my being, and was not able to match them with the expressible words, that would grant them their freedom.

I take control, and that is my only medicine.

I wrote this.

Pure Thoughts (44)

If everything was broken down to the simplest of medias,

We would all be laughing,

I know that is why I can laugh.

Yet, I know that is why you are not.

Why you who will hide in the shadows insist that these words keep you there.

Repetition (45)

Repeat, Repeat, Repeat.

Do not forget,

Do not Stop, and

Do not turn around.

I go through life to go through the same scenarios. If it is new and good, it is added to the list.

It is hard to imagine the freedom associated with burning the pages that keep the records and the keys to the accumulated chains and shackles.

This decision is left to the wind of the environment, and the sail of my voice.

I am content.

Deciding that is enough for me.

Deciding that is enough.

These Pages (46)

These pages grow,

As does my awareness of my reality and the lack of delusions that once cramped my mind. Is this nothing more than an extended ego-ideal delusion, pirating my corpse for output, into every conscious but my own.

As this becomes more my reality, maybe I am the sole entity to whom these words exist as they do, and represent what they must to be realized.

If all that exists is not so to be believed, but to be excuses for the way things really are, then and when media has won control.

The Realest Real (47)

I say I am sleeping.

Now I wonder, if I am asleep,

Dreams are woven into my reality.

Distractions seem like regular beats on a marching drum, away with the world and its natural caprice.

These moments I enjoy like no other.

I turn over; my thoughts fold over into a new dream, a new day, as

Then I awake and I am alone.

I leave my bed and live my day, but I always find my realest thoughts where I left them.

Raw Possession (48)

Do you own it?

Do you know what I refer to?

It is down the hall.

It is in your mind.

It is back home.

It is in your dreams.

It is in someone’s arms.

It is stronger than you are.

It will be the one thing that breaks you.

It will divide you into two.

It will be around long after you are dead.

It will be in the tales of future generations.

It will be compared to the past.

It will make you whole.

Time is no longer a factor in this equation.

Don’t go and look for it, you will only find that this is what you have been already looking for.

My Afterlife (49)

In my afterlife,

This will be there, and even if nothing else, or even without this,

That is enough for me.

I tried, and that is all the better.

That is the point.

I Use I (50)

Today I wrote a poem.

It said that I control my present, and therefore my future.

It said to rely on yourself, and do not expect to find happiness, but rather to make it, and everything else of importance around you.

It said that I am the most important person to determine the constitutes of my life, my outcomes, and everything else that gets rolled up with living.

When I Wake (51)

What day is better than today, or the list of days that have come and gone?

Tomorrow will be, but only if you insist on controlling today, and have already learned from yesterday.

Please Remind Me (52)

I have gone too far.

I have taken too many side roads, and have lost my way.

I live on adaptations on adaptations on how things once were.

I don’t know who I am, more than I know who you are.

I am not comatose, dreaming, or suffering from deliria or amnesia, and I know not of what is right or where it all began.

My history is the single Instance that I live in.

Where were you when I died – when everything changed, remind me of where I once was, and where it is I came from? But do not start with you, and do no start with I, start with the it that justifies the whole thing.

Pride (53)

I am proud.

I am proud of my culture,

I am proud of where I am from,

I am proud of my family,

I am proud of my history,

And I am proud of myself, because I know that these things that I am proud of, have yielded the resulting ‘I’ that writes this.

What better than to be proud of completing a task set out and planned, the point is that I created the question, answered the question, and left you this comment.

Yesterday (54)

That was the day I died.

That was the day I that I had blocked from my memory.

That was the day that it rained.

That was the day that was never ending.

That was the day I lost myself.

That was the day I found hopelessness.

That was the day I learned fear, learned competition.

That was the last day I cried.

That was the day I was born.

That was the day that brought about today.

Today (55)

Today I looked at the sun for the very first time.

Today I forged the keys to the locks that kept me caged from my own self.

Today I broke myself down, and kept only the strongest of pieces.

Today I reassembled everything I believed in.

Today I took a chance.

Today I won.

Today is irreproducible.

Today was worth it.

I am ready for tomorrow.

Tomorrow (56)

This is everything I am afraid of.

This is everything I look forward to.

This is the realization that it is up to me, and only me.

This is the unrelenting fact, that I learned what the word I means.

This is the idea that no matter what the sunset will bring, I will be there, and I will have my hammer in hand, and

I will mend the slightest trouble, or rebuild the entire world if necessary.

The Day After Tomorrow (57)

On this day I will rest, and understand what it is to not be me.

I will put down my pen; I will rest my hammer,

I will sleep as peaceful as never before,

I will live the life I set up,

And I will have earned it all.

Though, I will not enjoy it as I did the day before, and when I am ready to once again cocoon, I will return.

While Sleeping (58)

I discovered the cure.

I realized what it is that I would have to do to save myself, when I did wake.

The hardest part was to realize that I was sleeping.

Yet, I had no alarm.

There was no one around to put an end to my ignorant slumber.

If I had not made the first strike, and produced bloodshed from my cancer stricken mind, I would still be sleeping.

What I Know (59)

I know that moments ago this sentence did not exist on this paper.

I know that moments before that, this sentence did not exist in my mind.

I know that this sentence I am writing now has the purpose of showing that it exists.

I know because I write this, I am existing, and when I am done writing, I will no longer exist until I begin to write again.

Obsession (60)

What is in anything other than handed down lies?

What are the perceptions that we see other than dreams?

What is the reality that we live other than a disguise?

What is the world that we live in other than a cage, and

What is the life we lead other than an Obsession?

Mirrored Biography (61)

Blackness placed on a cold steel tray.

Lost flesh and gained soul.

Accepting death at a single moments notice, the ultimate of instances, taking his hand with no rearview mirror.

Actions of survival – Round for round with the worthiest of opponents, and winning, alas to no victory, but to a lone path of accomplishment.

Beating a skewed and dark shadow of the self.

Existing to survive,

Existing through these symbolic words,

Existing through my systematic actions,

Existing through your silent thoughts.

Antony Fasciano