I’m getting a little out of breath
Finding these words for this marathon
I think I’m a little out of my depth
Can I keep going on?
Let’s see if I can think of a rhyme
From the top of my head
Hit it
This is my time
Cymbals
Crushing that lime?
Being hydrated is my favourite pastime!
Are you ready for this ragtime
Premonition in song of a good night
Who says I can’t be a one man band
I’ve got it all in my sights!
Look at me man
Drowning in this
What the fuck it is
I don’t know
I’m writing for NaPoWriMo!
The mechanics of feelings
Feelings don’t abide by the ticking of the clock
they don’t align with our linear concept of time
There is no cross on any date
You can mark on the calendar
For when the heartbreak
Has lingered on too late
It’ll stay for as long as it takes
All you can do is ride the waves
As it rises and wanes
Disappears and comes back again
Grinding your gears
Cranking your levers
The mechanics of feelings
Are much too misunderstood
All trying to feel things
We’re not ready for
You can’t put your brain
In a sling
Hope it’ll fix it
by the first day or spring
The notches upon our days
Care none for what you feel
Or if you have or haven’t healed
It just goes on
Each revelation revealed
Solutions found and concealed
And like a water mill
We keep turning and churning
We’re powerhouses
Furnaces
Hidden behind irises
You don’t know me
Don’t point those words at me
Looking at the barrel of the gun
You hold against me
I see the chamber is empty
You think it’s full, it’s in your eyes
That ignorance
Your eyes ablaze with belligerence
Thinking you know me
When you don’t know the difference
Between the group you lumped me in
And the person I’ve always been
You only see the illusion you want to see
I’m as visible as any other kind
But you’ve put me in the shadows
Because then it’s easier on your mind
Noise pollution
There is no target
Marching aimless
We sold our souls for individuality
Only to become faceless
And everyone is drawing their guns
Angling for all that is wrong
thinking they’re right
While they flap their gums
Talking utter shite
About things they know none
And the world carries on
Indifferent to this war
Waged with words instead of swords
You might think that’s an improvement
But the wounds aren’t healing this time around
And a hangman’s noose is what brings these soldiers six feet underground
And these words right here are a symptom
Are you the underdog or the villain?
And if you don’t see what’s wrong with that question
You don’t understand what I’m saying
But this poem is part of the equation
So I’m just as guilty as you
I guess we’re all human
I guess I don’t have a solution
I’m just biding my time
A part of this noise pollution
Passing Seattle
Gonna go to Seattle and on to Bellevue
wouldn’t go with anyone but you
so we can drink on the rocks
A holiday from the school of hard knocks
We’ll hustle and bustle
With the nightlife of Belltown
and that swinging jazz will
Hush our nerves right down
And when we bed down
With the lace unfastened
We’ll call in on our old friend passion
Or we can just lay
In the glow of moonlight
A neon sign in the sky
Illuminating shadows
Rarely seen, usually only in passing
Dancing phantoms
Dancing phantoms
Dressed in rags and blood
Travelled the seas
To eternity
Where our nightmares plucked
us from childhood
Cigarettes
It’s the 10th day of NaPoWriMo and creatively I’m a little constipated. I’ve managed to squeeze this out, though I’m unsure of it.
Cigarettes burn
Indifferent to your lungs
Memories scattered
As ashes
On the cusp
But never becoming
Anything recalled
Invisible mental illness
The sun penetrates through the blinds
Dust floats in the split streams of light
But it doesn’t infiltrate the mind
And that’s the insanity or is it sanity
That is mine
There are no cracks to seep through
I’m not cracking up
I’m sealed up, only breakable inside
~
There is a political theory called, ‘the horseshoe theory’ and I think a similar argument can apply to mental health.
See what I believe is, a little delusion goes a long way to a functioning adult. Delusion is automatically regarded as some negative thing only mentally ill people have, but I swear by this, a little delusion is like the heart of functioning in this world.
Some people become so deluded that they no longer function, their heart has enlarged if you will.
But there is another type of person, the kind of person who can’t function because they harbour no delusions or don’t believe enough in any potential delusions they could have. It’s an affliction I call severe sanity. Of course, me thinking I’m too severely sane for this world could be seen as a symptom of insanity…. But of course, severe insanity can look much like insanity. Indeed the two merge to look like one in the same when you break it down and see that both the insane and the severely sane can both become dysfunctional in similar ways. Hence my mention of the horseshoe theory above.
Volkswagen van
I want a Volkswagen van
So I can be the travelling man
Pretending to be Jesus
Fronting a one man band
Playing harmonica
With a guitar
Cymbals strapped to my knees
Making it look like a breeze
Playing in all different keys
Please
Don’t blow
Down my house of cards
I’ve worked so hard
To try and become a man of ease
Let me have just this one
Please?
I’m a prisoner
I’m a prisoner of ghosts
A host to tea parties
Where they haunt the table
Pouring water till it spills
Another soul to kill
