Tyler R. Martin

The sixth episode to my podcast aired today and, like all the other episodes, I was very happy with how it came out. I discussed a wide range of topics, and took a rational, yet likely controversial stance on gender dysphoric individuals based on an email my Boxing Gym received last week. Hopefully my thoughts will be received in a manner in line with my actual intentions. Per usual, I elaborate on my ideas concerning individuality, spirituality, the outlaw’s war with life, the need to be combative with authority, Nietzschean philosophy, my own personal war with existence, mother nature and the existential necessity for lack of safety in pursuing enlightenment. All of this stems from a poem I wrote titled “God’s Spire” from my first book, Rotten Man’s Throne…you can find a link to purchase it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08541HSXH/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_9YMTS5FE2QA6D2CB04VX)

Poem and link to video included below:

God’s Spire

If God should sit upon a spire,
High above perceptions grasp,
Then am I worthy of his wisdom?
Can I echo a perfect past?

If God should sit upon a spire,
Then must I purse my lips and pray?
Am I worthy of his fire?
Must my sins be scorched today?

Spending years in agony,
Wondering if I’m to shine,
Or will I rot with his derision?
Am I worthy of his time?

Cause I am crawling, I am crawling,
Encumbered weary deaf and blind.
I am crawling, I am crawling,
Crawling through the chasm of my mind.

Cause I am crawling, I am crawling,
Engulfed by a doubt not defined.
Cause I am crawling, I am crawling.
Crawling through the chasm of my mind.

If I should sit upon a spire,
High above all that’s divine,
Must I justify His judgement,
Or is his blood no longer wine?

And if I’m to sit upon a spire,
Must I forego my sacred right,
To be embraced by his forgiveness?
And to wander through the empty night?

Spending years in agony,
Wondering if I’m to shine,
Or will I rot with his derision?
Am I worthy of his time?

And as I sit upon the spire,
High above pure entranced masses,
It leaves me scarred and broken, bitter,
But divine despite the lashes.

Will it be worth the holy battle,
Against myself and all mankind?
To overcome all that represses,
As I’m crawling through the chasm of my mind?