Poetry, Random Ramblings and Rants

Hurtin’ fer certain

Unraveled

Unbedazzled

Alone

With my grief and fear

Believe the elevator is broken

Can’t begin to see up from here

It’s dark

Where my heart parks

Fallen angels may be near

But even the brimstone sparks

Fail to appear

No joy in Benville today

Sweet sunshine reminds me

of shadows of those now gone

Some are still alive in some way

But don’t seem to have much to say

So I await the blankness of midnight hours

And believe that I’m acquiring a taste for blood

Clock ticks birthing melanic powers

As ambient roses begin to bud

I board my clipper ship excited by the coming flood

Going dark

to avoid downward spiral

On transmogrifying spiral staircase

Not always easy

Morning has usually dispelled the charging shadows

by the time I get up

So I have to look inwardly

for another time another place

for me

I can hide inside the sunshine

but also still see myself

Metaphoric hollow statue

Reflective of tragedy

and harmony

Points in the continuum

That count against themselves

Doomscrolling the day away

adulting not to be done today

I remember back in the the ’80s

& how the cold war didn’t bother me

Was much more interested in

the circus that was my life

& investigating the current sin

Way back then I thought

I’d be gone by now

Somehow…

couldn’t foresee waking upon

a dysfunctional new reality

shit show carnival

Everyday

God, I’m too old for Armageddon

my willingness to survive

ain’t quite what she used to be

Everywhere

I’m looking, don’t like what I see

All I want

is the freedom to be Free

The “lines on my face and hands” Alice sang about on “18” 

have made their way into my reality

Spent so much time to get so little done

Blinded by too much visionary to see

I’d say there must be a reason I’m here but life has never made much sense; even tho I’ve paid my penitence Buddha’s first noble truth

latched on early in my youth

Story of my experience

crumbles into a pile of surrendered grandiose unrelatative-ness

Ah, alone drifting through space and calling it hell

Plunging thru nightmares 

dreaming of wishing myself well

Awash in darkness and apathy

Sun shine outside

Doesn’t tempt me from my crypt

The desire to hold things no longer here

embraces like a smallpox blanket

and what happens when the right thing to do

doesn’t seem to matter anymore

and doing what I want to do loiters on the edge of effort I don’t want to expend

Pushing thru another day from my fucking couch unwilling to reach out for understanding ears

Don’t preach to me about loftiness and light I can see them from here

but I believe they are frightened by

what used to be my fears

Doomscrolling the day away

adulting not to be done today

I remember back in the the ’80s

& how the cold war didn’t bother me

Was much more interested in

the circus that was my life

& investigating the current sin

Way back then I thought

I’d be gone by now

couldn’t foresee waking upon

a dysfunctional new reality

shit show nitemare somehow…

Everyday

God, I’m too old for Armageddon

my willingness to survive

ain’t quite what she used to be

Everywhere

I’m looking, don’t like what I see

All I want

is the freedom to be Free

Burning and crashing

Don’t feel like a phoenix

Imbalance

Inside, outside, and inside out

Retesting my nesting…

That oasis was somewhere… around  here

Faith is belief in the unseen

What I currently see

leans toward negating

what there is left

to have faith in

Y’know like the light at the end of the tunnel being a train

Sunshine still more welcoming than rain

but I’m swimming uphill

Don’t miss my addictions

The pleasure melded into afflictions

So fucking long ago

I’ve ridden out so many storms

Thought it had toughened me up

Until you slowly then suddenly

Went away

Now I have no functioning norms

And a great big empty

Where you used to be

Your Ikea Death Star is here

Maybe you can finally take a break

from trying to keep up with the clowns

Yes, I tend to believe that a little independence would be good

Clear your head with non forgiving stick figures

and separating the A’s, B’s and C’s

maybe the H1-B ‘s while we’re at it

Let the qualified decide

What’s best for us…

I mean, you never know,

Perhaps you’ll improve the Ikea Death Star and become a billionaire too