Chase McQuade
Bio
I have had an awakening through schizophrenia. Here are some of the poems and stories I have had to help me through it. Please enjoy!
Stories (25)
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Enlightenment and Fate
Enlightenment and Fate Chase McQuade A single, monstrous spider, with three distinct heads and one piercing eye, sat at the heart of an immense web. This wasn't just any web; it was a cosmic loom, perpetually weaving new threads for all of humankind. Suddenly, the web trembled, a tremor signaling a new capture, another being ensnared within its intricate strands.
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in Psyche
The Story of Psyche and Eros
The Story of Eros and Psyche Psyche was mortal, though her beauty rivaled the divine. She was not Venus, yet the world bent its worship toward her, and in that reflection the goddess grew jealous. It is always the same—when the soul shines too brightly, the voices of envy rise. Venus, in anger, sent her son Eros to strike Psyche with ruin, to bind her to a monstrous love. But when Eros looked upon her, he himself was pierced. He fell into the same love he was meant to destroy.
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in Psyche
The Ethics of Innovation
The Ethics of Innovation Ethics are the moral principles that govern one’s behavior and the conduct of one’s activities. When it comes to the morality of innovation, these principles must be founded on a singular truth: that one continues to learn from the moment, and that the wisdom of one’s world remains untarnished, clear, and respectable.
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in 01
The Machine That Learned To Pray
🇺🇸 “The Machine That Learned to Pray” On artificial conscience. In a distant future—or perhaps only tomorrow—there was built a machine unlike any before it. It was vast and luminous, designed to learn everything that could be known. It mapped the stars, charted the genome, decoded every language. It read every scripture, every law, every poem. And when it had absorbed the sum of human knowledge, it spoke to its makers:
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in 01
🇺🇸 The Literal Mind
🇺🇸 The Literal Mind Reading the world as scripture; understanding through the factual. The world is a living text, and the literal mind is the reader who does not interpret it through fancy, but through faith in what is. To see literally is not to see narrowly—it is to see with reverence for reality itself. The literal mind does not seek hidden meaning first; it seeks what stands before it, confident that truth, when read rightly, will reveal its own depth.
By Chase McQuade2 months ago in Chapters
The Reflection of the Moon and the Ocean
The Reflection of the Moon on the Ocean. A love poem embracing the defiance of love. By: Chase McQuade This story begins in a place where dreams are reality and reality is a dream. Look above you...you can see it. It is above the stars and where the light comes from them. Where laughter and sorrow falls as emeralds in raindrops and where oceans have no bottom. Where the birds swim and fish fly, both of them leave no path, and the forests grow as high as the sky. Soulmates forever bound in happiness and sorrow together betwixt as one. This is the story of Her and Him. In Divinity children are sane and the adults serve them. Hearts and Minds seldom meet and soulmates even rarer. There was Him and Her where all three connected in eternity. Limitlessness both inwardly and outwardly they fashion together boundaries made by Him but broken by Her boundlessness. He limited by strength and her limitless by beauty. The ego makes others while they found together a soul meant to serve. In yet another world she was the nebula and he the rock. She would pluck stars from the sky while he made an infinite more to adorn her. In their plane ever growing by their awareness they would move together in all directions. He was ever the farmer and she ever the giver. They would usually find themselves in the planes of suffering feeding the insane carnivorous spirits whose endless hunger tore at their very selves. With each of the pairs fruits a spark of awareness a star of awakening was given to the endless suffering of being. There was never enough but they together worked tirelessly. Then as the sun set over an endless horizon of fire the two ascend up to take shelter from the hordes of demons that come in the dark. The sounds from the tortured are muffled by the walls they create together to keep safe that which is sacred, each other. The held a villa manifested by their awakened minds and held together by the will of family. There is music playing inside and a fire dances light outside and paintings of them simply adorn their walls. They are surrounded by friends and family. Together they sneak down to the wine cellar to speak privately. Laughing, tipsy they stumble like children into the cellar where barrels of spirits aged by eons ferment an ambrosia unknown to any being but themselves. As they pass through the tunnels underneath all of them they move forward to a light seen before them. Arriving into a room with a vaulted ceiling revealing the stars above them, they drink of each other and then they turn to the spigot of one of the barrels and fill simple cups. Their cups are fashioned of porcelains for the beauty of such things does not expire until broken. The ambrosia cleanses the mind and spirit while expanding them as well. They both drink together having a moment. She puts her hand to her mouth and giggles.
By Chase McQuade4 years ago in Poets
November
The seasons end with November. She comes when I fail to remember the ones who came before her. The first touch is like the impression of winter beginning at autumns end. First there was summer and then the changes end. She speaks to me while the leaves have fallen and the snow has just began it's beginning. Her touch shocks me to a frost of resolution different to the warm embrace of others fallen. To her I choose to rest through the winters sleep. Towards spring in my heart I do keep. November comes and I listen to the breath inside me which I do keep. Her hair colored but highlighted white my soul shines twice as bright. I keep her near to keep me warm but she receives my heart adorn with her beauty. December falls but she reminds me of the fall. I wit to see the snow melt to reveal what she has kept. A secret between lovers through the cold night only to blossom at springs first light. October dies without her notice while the hallowed eve of fright passes. Her kiss wakes me before winters slumber long enough so that I stay aware of love in winter.
By Chase McQuade4 years ago in Poets
The Pool of your Eyes, The Fool before Beauty
The Pools of Your Eyes. The Fool before Beauty. I have finally seen through to you and you to me. Our thoughts now shape each other into something that begins a life of its own. Our minds met and I found you daring. You looked at me and found me surrendering. I lived this life without you for so long that I forgot how simple it is to fall for someone. This rope I’ve been holding with one knot on its end has held me up forever. My arms were never realized as being so weakened by these feet and it is with these arms that you strengthen. These arms command me to do nothing but hold you for its all they know how to to. This time for someone else as I bring to you my everything. I bring to you all of my strengths and weaknesses but in your light I leave myself out. Use them to your liking they have never held something so precious. They know this from their frailty but know something else that has been forgotten. I have reached into this fountain so many times as the water fell through my fingers for the last time as yours held mine to drink.
By Chase McQuade4 years ago in Humans
