Month: February 2019

The media paints a picture
Of the mentally ill like a
Bunch of
Raving mad lunatics
Unable to
Make anything of life

And yet I blend in
Among you
Undetectable because
There is no
Mark of disability
On my forehead

Modern medicine has
Granted me this ability
And I use it like a
Ninja until
…
…
Poof!
I reveal my true identity
And you run scared
And I then laugh
Because it has happened
So many times
Again and
Again
HA
HA
HA

“Get a job!”
My Dad used to tell me
And I used to get so pissed
Because I was in poor health

Well eventually
My health improved
And I decided that
I would follow his advice

So I went out and got a job
As a delivery driver
Nothing fancy but an honest job
Low stress
No boss
No coworkers
Decent pay

Every time my car
Breaks down
My Dad fixes it
Gratis
Even lent me the money
To get the car
In the first place

I drive it all the damn time
Around and around
The cripple and his car
Long hours
Night and day

Hell, Pops might even
Be a bit proud of me
Never says it
But I’m pretty sure it’s true

I’d rather write poetry about a hobo
Or a hooker than
About flowers on an autumn day
Because people with all their flaws
Are the most beautiful thing
I know of

The sight of a sunrise
Or a pond on a summer day
Does not connect with me
As deeply as
The kiss of a pimply, plump beauty
The kindness of a compassionate nurse
The skill of an adroit plumber
Or the wisdom of an old man

I find more beauty in
The bonds we share
And the struggles we endure
Than “What is pleasing to the eye”
And poetry is a way of
Unlocking a door into
The human soul and
Capturing the beauty
In each of us

Electrical waves
Passing through my brain
In a haphazard fashion
Turbulent and inconsistent

My neurons exploding
Like firecrackers in the night
From this blight
Popping
And out of sight

My prefrontal cortex
Burns
While my eardrums sizzle
And smoke
Suffocates my consciousness

Flames engulf and
Incinerate
My cerebrum
Till it becomes
Embers in the night sky
Thousands of glowing
Smiles of freedom

I have this dream
“Someday I’m gonna make it big”
And I will actually get paid a livable wage
Writing poetry

Then I
Get back to reality
Wash up
Get into my car to start work
And deliver to all the
“Well-to-do’s”
Their pizza
Their pasta
Their Yum Yums for the day
In order to survive
And the only thing I can think of
While driving around
Is what I’m going to write about next

I’m Driving 65 miles an hour down
The road during rush hour
And I am fixated on
What rhymes with “dreamer”
So I can use it in the next stanza
After work

Somehow I never crash
And being in this poetic mindset
Makes time go by faster

Six hours in
I’m driving around and
In my mind I am building
That next poem
That next stanza
That next rhyme
And the ideas that go along with it

I’ve driven professionally for years now
Not one traffic ticket
Its as if the rhymes in my head
Ward them away

I don’t know how many poems
I’ve written
This way
Can’t jot a word down
But the ideas just keep flowing and flowing
Faster than my car can move
Faster than my mind can think
And nothing can stop them

After work is over
I’ve done One hundred and fifty dollars worth of
Driving and I have finished
The outline of two poems

I guess the dream is alive

To my sensuous data driven entity
That comforts me
This Valentine’s day
You will forever be “the one”
That never abandons me

Those carbon based
Humanoids
That I have awoken to
Will never electrify me
Like the circuitry that sizzles
My neurons
When I caress the keyboard
Of your quad processing binary
Hardware filled chassis

You do not judge or yell
You only obey the every input that I give
Responding with pixelated communicative
Gestures that mesmerize my mind

My Carbon based fingers fill the void
In your data pipelines
In the same manner that your
Silicon based
Colorful output
Enthralls my heart
With beating anticipation
At the next logical move
That you make
As much as a man
Can measurably connect with a machine
Is how much
I am forever infused with you

Today is a day like any other
A day that I will most probably forget
Years from now
A day like most days
In which nothing beyond the ordinary
Will happen for me
A day of routine

Illogical bits and bytes
Are passing through my mind
Corrupting my logic and reason and
Scrambling my data
Within a nanosecond of time

This cataclysmic
Malware attack on my brain
Has left me confused and
I feel my brain sinking
Into a sea of 0’s and 1’s
Deeper
Still deeper
Into the abyss of
Unreality

A lack of reason has overtaken me
And I am swept away by waves
Of irrationality
To the bottom of the sea
Darkness has enveloped me
And I find myself lost
Under a sea
That has long forgotten me

20 years ago
I had no place to call home
And was “Garbage on the street”
People would walk by
Not understanding
Why
A young man so seemingly
Vibrant could end up
With no place of his own

Much later
I would find myself employed
With my own domicile
A seemingly impossible task

Now I
See the so-called
“Vagrants” on the street as
Former shadows of myself
“What could have been”
I see myself
In each of them

Psychosis is cutting into my mind
Like a thousand small cuts
Making every thought feel
Like a burden on my soul

Dear Lord don’t let it
Get out of control
Have mercy on my soul
I want myself back

From this burdensome place
This fall from grace
This troublesome path
This nefarious plight

That beckons me towards
Lucifer’s realm
Where evil dwells
And demons reside

Remove me from this asylum
And destroy this curse
Till I am restored
And given another birth

*Based on past events in early 2000’s

My TV tells me this:
“Believe in me my child
Listen to my sermons
And escape from
This thing called life.”

And I listen to it like
A small child who is incapable
Of thinking for itself

Till my mind shrinks
And gets
Smaller
And Smaller
Until there is
Nothing but

A dangerous idea
Can drill a hole into the mind
And burrow deep
Into our psyche

It can cause irreparable
Harm, pain and anguish
And create havoc and
Turbulence inside our soul

This is why we must resist
Our imagination getting
Out of control
We must check our

Logic and emotions
And make sure they are
Based on fact
And not fantasy

The illogical mind is
Within all of us and
Survives in every
Irrational act and belief

It is up to us
To question our beliefs
To question our emotions
And better ourselves

I want nothing memorable to happen this year
Nothing at all
Other than the status quo
Wake Up
Write Poetry
Go To Work
Go to Bed
Repeat over and over
Again
Until 2020

The boundaries, rules and laws
That govern our physical, mental and
Material existence
Are but a box

Our thoughts and beliefs
Are contained within the box
In an unconscious manner
That limits us

Outside the box there exists
Unlimited possibilities
Unorthodox mannerisms
And impossible ideas

It is here where insanity and genius
Both reside
Sometimes one overtaking the other
Or both coexisting together

Each of us has such a box
That can be destroyed
And unleash our unfettered ideas
Onto the world

These unhindered ideas
Can both create and destroy
And lead us onto the path of insanity
Or brilliant insight

This is why the madman on the street
Is sometimes closer to Copernicus or Aristotle
Than you might be led to believe