Among no other things
Manic depressive, I swing to the left
then back to the right –
I’m a swinger
But in either state I come up with great zingers!
Sometimes I like sharing songs
But then wonder if you’ll take it wrong
Most of the time my moods
do not interfere with who
I am –
a cool dude.
Among the coolest.
Possibly cooler than you!
The imagination, it’s a hell of a thing
I pitch without a hitch
and sell myself the dream.
Ease is with what I produce a path to letdowns
Let down but it is my fault ultimately
Self-swindled without a flame to be rekindled
This is either all too complex or pathetically simple.
Keep fantasies in the medicine cabinet
Medicine in my gut at all times
Like the mind, I can’t see physically my wants
Disoriented thoughts, yes those –
race and run the gauntlet.
I’m like winter mixed with spring
I like my fruit forbidden
I’m like nothing mixed with something
Stranded, harping hard on how it was to once be driven.
Some would say I’m “tripping”
I am tripping, truly
I was riffing – cruelly
Some would say I’m “tripping”
Me? I have no comment
Precisely, I could not state my intentions.
Loosely, there’s a chance I can speak sharply on my actions.
This is life and opportunities are passing me
They pass me with no waving, I look on like I’m forsaken.
But pity from the self, it has yet to help me
I have optimism somewhere
It’s tough to see
You see, it’s stealthy.
Indeed, someone will always have it worse than you, worse than I
Yet that knowledge is no killer and our hurt survives
What can I do? But spin a new narrative, try a new thing
Hope my next dream is no illusion,
and if I’m wrong – try again
Sipping on a Yoo-hoo
Wondering if this woman really is wondrous
Or if she is a Plain Jane fitting in.
Social pressure molds perception but I’m singled out as sole manipulator
Sipping on an ice-cold Mountain Dew and I had to eat the soda tax
The can’s moist green texture is appealing to the eye
Shoot this nuisance in the head and that’s the end of that
I knew a couple of people who fought fair and that’s what justified their deaths
Sipping on a Monster, the original
Chainsmoking like Beethoven
Stand back and admire the absurdity of what we’ve woven
I am a book that’s open, you are a notebook that had to be opened
The world is coming to a close, won’t you hold my hand?, I’ll hold you closer than my values
Sipping on Nestle coffee put together in an instant
Mentally I feel as though we are not too distant
Take the hits I’m giving thee and strike me down with karma
Are you alone? Company only sticks around for a short while
Sipping on her pussy juice
In a thermos is liquid sex and ecstasy
Steam rises out of it when I tilt it back and drown in it
It changed my whole perspective
Headed back to campus
I call it the Resurrection
Sipping Tropicana
Sitting on my hands trying not to open up another can of….
WORMS
Sipping on a mango Arizona
With a bag of kratom on my side
I’m trying to survive although I do not know for what reason I wish to stay alive
Sipping on an A&W cream soda
It is flat like my affect but it tastes good despite that
I am perverted with my thinking yet as sweet as what I’m drinking
Now ME sipping on coconut water
Thinking about how life would be if that fun kid was my daughter
Would she be a blessing or a bother?
Or can a blessing be a bother?
Sipping Tropicana…
Lasso around a cloud
makes a balloon – and string
held by an animal
Over the shoulder carry
a dream found, captured.
My dream is not a slave.
Parading around town.
Navy blue sports jacket
Jeans the color of bats
Bare feet connect my dream
to concrete plan, concrete.
I’m just the medium.
Now, once upon a night
I thought ambitious thoughts.
I went to the garage
and found what I had sought
I spun it over head –
spun like propellers, fast.
Blue bike popped a wheelie,
caught meaning as it passed
Nights long, fasting – feasting
on quick ruminations,
the things that make blueprints.
Write while weight is erasing
Drift ever so lightly, heels scrape the ground
Carried by my comrades – I love you guys
Rising. Rising. I weigh nearly no pounds
Take off for good with propulsion of sigh
My dreams, you see…are attached to me
My neck is where they latched on to…breath (?)
The aardvark smiles when the clock strikes 12
A plan centers around you and locks you
inside a station circular – the circle is the station
Banging a nail through a wall with forehead’s force
Washing hands with just water
Whimpering in a corner like a scared little boy
Shuffling along, passing scenes chaotic
Diving into garbage, hope no one sees me
Finding trash, think it treasure – easy
Standing in awe at an art museum
Portrait hangs over me with exaggerated enormity
Blown back for staring too long
Travel back to when all was still
No time to kill
I am real
I consist
of consciousness – that’s it
A sorry life, excuses flow profusely
Despair dares to pursue me
Seeks me incessantly
Looks under the bed, in the closet
in the most secluded chambers of my mind, hiding silently
Found frequently, maimed more
Compelled to purchase pain in store
Takes me like the tide
Fingers clawing at the sand…
