(panic in the woods)

i will name things
i will name myself
i am not afraid

i will speak
my name
i will show
my face
i am not afraid

i cannot
in good conscience
remain anonymous
with this
one life

i cannot
stifle the
one thing
i have
that is
my own

in the woods i named
a stick and
in a rage i held it
wanting to break
stones with wood

i looked frantically
about at
the trees
with their many
notches and
dark hideaways
and was astonished
to find they
had not made
a place for *me
to live and hide

i wanted to
scream fire
i am here!
why isn't there
a place for me?

then i felt as if
i were a tree
a bare tree
with thieves already
bargaining for
next spring's leaves
not yet sprung

so i marched
down the trail
in a desperate
fury and suddenly stopped
because there
on the grey, dusty ground
was the most beautiful,
vibrant red berry
i had ever seen

and i silently
shouted and named,
red berry!
i am a red berry!
i *know i am a red berry!
why, then
do i feel like
the trampled
grey dust?

tears streamed down
my face
and i panicked
my breath came
too fast
i looked around
wildly
and i named everything i saw

and in my rapid
breathing
i desperately wanted
nothing more than
a warhorse
i wanted my stick back,
that i had flung aside

i wanted to roar
"break!"
and watch the stone crumble
i wanted my horse
to be strong and lithe,
beautiful
a thundering
terror
i wanted to
wreak vengeance on...

what? who?
i couldn't name
my enemy

but i am the namer

i will name
the bane of my heart
the cursed
corrupt nightmares
of government and
moral authority

but my deepest self
is lashing out
for something more
to name

something to break
myself against

but this thing
escapes me
remains nameless
slippery
and out of
my control

i suffer from
delusions.

hope is the
  destroyer of
the last ravaged bits
  of sanity.

hope is the
  ******
targeting
  my heart.

seven hells, man!
i was just getting started,
you **** fool!
do you know what that means?
i walk around with
scandalous thoughts of you
a perfectly innocent look on my face
the inside of my lip raw
i had ideas,
you jack ***!
...waiting for boldness to overwhelm me
...waiting for the spring air
    to come in my window and
      make me wild
you deserve a good slap
if you deserve anything at all,
devil above me
devil behind me
devil below me

He wields his hammer
   without mercy
bring
the
metal
d
o
w
n
time and space
    e  x  p  a  n  d  i  n  g
crushing metal to earth
         to vibration to sound

my head snaps to the left
         vibration through earth
                through atom through drum
a fire ignites...a fire BURNS...a fire smolders
nostrils flare
  apertures contract straining to focus
      heart valves pump unnaturally
         oxygen is scarce
knees weaken
and i  s
             i
               n
                  k
arms of steel
     guide my hips...
(keep breathing)
strands of gold
     brush my neck
(open your eyes)
kisses so light
  turn to a force of nature
(by the forgotten gods,
              you are beautiful)
teeth playfully snap
    eyes shine
(breathe, woman, breathe)

our neurons are mirrored
   our pheromones agree
now comply...surrender...submit

your cape is irrelevant
  the crimson does not impress me
you do not need it to take flight

your armor is useless
  i can pierce it simply
with a look from my blue eyes

what of your hammer, Thor?
it is all of what you are;
heavy with burden
  spinning and light with hope
crushing the earth with music
raised high to lead
          with a steady hand
hailing a booming storm
    light electrifying

be assured - your hammer is your own
i do not desire to take what is yours
    to smother your light
         to limit your branches

i only wish to see you grow in strength
  in beauty
       in music
            in light

and so i will wait...
for the thunder of the hammer
   crushing the ground
calling me home.

i'm not allowed to say
i am thinking of you today.
because you don't care
what i think,
i don't tell you my ideas.
(anymore)

is seemed the only reasonable option.

i wanted to crawl out of my skin
                   crawl out of my mind
                  and even the solace of  
a sleeping unconscious
rigidly refuses my pleas
defies me
like everything and everyone else.

hot water
candlelight
the aroma and feel
of lavender and eucalyptus oil
only pull me deeper
into sorrow and despair.

i. can't. do. this.

what next?
i already tried white russians
   a sleeping pill
        allergy medication
              "the privilege of the sword"
  
                i tried thinking hard
and not thinking at all

                     i try to steel myself again life
                 become hard
            uncaring
            i try not to give a ****.

but it's all pathetic attempts
      to go against my nature.
                              my nature dictates i cry
                         that i thrash against this
         that i reach out again and again
that i make an utter fool of myself.

i opened the window...maybe the air will help
(it won't.)

i'll put on music to soothe me
(it will do the opposite.)

i will disrobe
slather lotion on myself
i'll climb into my bed
with my stupid purple hair
and cry into my blankets
while sad music plays.

eventually you will find me asleep
among twisted blankets and tears
likely clutching a pillow
for dear life.

i will awake to find
nothing has changed
and use all my strength
to get out of bed.

i'll force myself back
to my desperate searching.
i'll vow not to make a fool of myself this day
and fail.

i will push my pounding heart back
so that it is just a whisper
and just face that fact

that      life      b  l  o  w   s.

so i ask you, sage,
     in all sincerity
  how to put aside
a ridiculous pride...a palpable fear
to let fly
the asking?

easy?
no.
i have found no easy thing worth doing
or loving.
   i don't want ease
i want l o v e
  that i would burn bridges for
a struggle of understanding
that will keep me alive and whole
a sickening rush
worth every sacrifice.

paralyzing terror
because nothing is due me...
nothing should be expected
so nothing can be misplaced
    misguided

restraint,
restraint!!!
yes?!
   yes.
that must be the answer.

for if not restraint,
  then earth shaking love.
and if the earth shakes
  people might get hurt.

and i might be one of them.

the miles between point a
   and b are too many
but as always, the race is on

...and oh, yes
  i am in a race
of my own creation

brain calculates and recalculates
eyes darting
vehicles
    sunlight
road
    mirror
(is that an officer of the law?)

i practice the smoothest curves
   fluid motions
but at the same time
      sweet sassy maggy
follow the rules

don't forget the coffee for the love of god
    make it to the one gas station by 7
for ****'s sake, get around the blue car
   the black car
the raggedy old truck
        before the exit or you know
you. are. *******. for. miles.

for christ's sake, use all your ******* skill
   to get a around a stupid slow truck
farm equipment
      or a semi
before thou shall not pass
  or you know your rage will be uncontrollable

things are going well
   you feel confident...you will be on time
you are flying and no one can touch you
   your driving is flawless
       that crazy sun is shining
          and the bass is vibrating your bones

and then t i m e    s   l   o   w  s
    as William H. Macy, you see it
it's that ******* Kia Sportage

adrenaline shoots into my veins
  muscles tense
and i slam into manual
4....3
     take that!
       woman cruising like you're on a lazy sunday drive
          smoking a cigarette like it's 1950.
        
don't you know that i'm in a race,
     and you are my nemesis?

i'm pretty sure
this is one of
the wisest pieces
of advice
i've seen

well meaning, anyway.

i walk alone
and it's a strange thing

every single time
i begin walking
i have an intense urge
to bust a move
and dance to the
music in my ears

but that would be
like feeding the animals

so i don't do it.

i am suspicious
when i walk alone
so i am constantly glancing
behind me
preparing to fight

in my mind
i am a fantastic fighter
my body moves
in deadly arcs
i can turn
anything
into a weapon
and i will
d r o p
any fool that
comes near me

i am an animal.
i shouldn't be fed
with crazy daydreams
but i keep. getting. fed.
and once i've been fed
i just want to eat more

the desire is overwhelming.

every few days
i consider taking up
a new hobby
like smoking,
or a destructive
non-committal attitude

but i always decide
not to feed
this animal
anything

but words.

i would like
to turn in
my wizardry card

i would like
to drop
an art bomb
an f-bomb
(a freak bomb)

and disappear
in a fog of
green smoke

oh, you didn't know?
i am
the queen of rocking art
i am a sorcerer
a conjurer
of souls
and color

i have been
crowned
by children

i eat and sleep
children
their hopes
their disappointments

i hold up
a mirror
and make them
face themselves
their success
their failures

then i cast
spells to
inspire their
action
stand ready
to catch tears
and embrace
joy

i conjure
experiences
made of
     graphite
stop bath
         zeroes000 and ones111
and | pigment |
at an
impossible rate

i look inside
the souls
of
every
single
child
to find
which of
my magics
will spur
them to greatness

and my magic
grows
i use sorcery
to accumulate
new recipes
new spells
new questions

i use my wand
to summon
the forces
of earth
to make time
stand still
i forgo food
and rest
because demand
for this
queen
is
high

but alas,
i want to
turn in my
wizard card

hand it to
my overlords
because
my superhuman
wizardry
is not enough

my   e x p l o s i o n s
of thought
   my insistence
on  quality
     my very
humanity...
all
  swords
    in my side

i have
mastery over
light

colors
seep into
every
word uttered
every
letter written
every
glance
from my
eyes

i am a
sorcerer
(read: i am a nys teacher)
but sorcery
is not enough
my overlords
want
*the gods, themselves

i am the foundation.*

i am the
b a s e [bass]
   you build
            worlds upon.

that cool feeling of
leather-hard clay
going over and over it
with your fingers
patiently (desperately)
slipping new pieces on
burnishing
scrutinizing from all angles
the heat
the waiting
the care
the cracking
the glaze
the inevitable end.

ask for more?!
   ask for more???
have you lost your mind, man?
i mean really,
   ask for more! (said with a chuckle)

asking is admitting
asking is revealing
asking is believing
asking is expecting
asking is...
   asking.

nothing is better.
nothing is nothing.
well.
  nothing is nothing for awhile
nothing is something after too much nothing
   surely, nothing is better than asking

can i infer?
i will infer.
i will make gestures.

i will not be so dumb to act as if there were nothing
    but not so bold as to be asking for something
   i will infer
     i'll will things with my mind
i will desperately wish things
   quietly...
      silently, even?
that seems noble and perfectly normal
  mind reading
     inferring
  making ridiculous gestures
struggling
and talking to oneself
is surely
a saner and wiser path.

ask for more!
ha!
madman!

how many things
   can i compare you to?
how many seas
   can i try to drown you in?
the sick part is
   i'm starting to note
   the absence of thought
   | the gaps in time |
the hum of nothing

that brings me back.

i hope you enjoyed
my dead
fish eyes
and flaring
nostrils, sir

don't take it
personally
i mean
you caught me!
fair (eh, hem)
and square

i'm sorry, what was that?
did i see you hiding behind the semi?
why, no sir, i did not
did i see the semi?
yes, sir, i saw the semi...
    and might i add, that if i had
    seen you...you would not, in fact, have
    been doing a very good job hiding?

thank god someone
is making sure
i am perfect in
my vigilance
i mean, christ
i deserve to be punished

and i take my
punishment like a man
no trickery
no cleavage or
crying
just grim acceptance

the state, nay,
the country does not have
its hands in my pockets
deep enough
and as we all know
i am such a
thoughtless fool
and do not understand
the ways of the
road that
i must pay
for it
because we all
know that money
teaches
and knowledge is
the problem

to prove that
i am made
of different stuff
i rolled home
on
bald tires
an empty
fuel tank
and pure spite
because i am
nothing if
not rational.

i sit in the
dark and the smoke
the fan humming
and i think of my lover
the best lover

(for tara)

fourteen years ago
    we became sisters
  and found instant
        (colorful) reflections of
ourselves
    in each other

you are
   the sole observer
of the
humble and
        beautiful beginnings (they always seem so nice)
   the l  i  f  e
     (the dream, tara, the dream)
the hope
    the utter despair
and ruin
         of my love. of my heart.

you are
   my moon
in synchronous orbit
   checking on me
pulling me into you
   when i am
nothing, tara,
but a wretched
   sobbing
heap...

listening to my
  incoherent sobs
for hours
your voice soothing,
"i know, amanda, i know..."

and now
   as i barely have
my face
above water
...gasping for air
   i see you plunge
into the water
beside me
s
i
n
k
i
n
g

tara
you are me
   and i will catch you
and drag you
   out of this *******
if it's the last thing i do

i don't know why
   we cannot see
in ourselves
    what we so plainly
see in each other

but in the mirror
  i see first your beautiful smile
(so genuine)
    the way you naturally
physically reach out to
   people and touch them lightly
on the arm or hand or shoulder...
it radiates this warmth around you
      that is magnetic and puts everyone at ease

then your
   ******* beautiful hair
that i have been
     jealous of for
fourteen years
  beautiful tumbling
waves that shine in the light
...then those eyes
  amber deep
with a sparkle
to go with
   that smile and laugh
and i'm sorry, girl
  but your body
is banging...
you have always looked
    like a spanish dancer
  to me...like you should
have on a tight, shiny red dress
    and should be moving those hips
and bumpin that ***
  all over the floor
hair flying...eyes sparkling
men's jaws simply laying on the floor.
  
when i look in the mirror, sister,
that is what i see
and i am proud

let's not discuss
the past, alright?
because there are
    are a few   f l a w s
with the whole
         ******* idea
of this stupid linear
       time
thing
anyway.

i don't like it.
but seeing as how
      i am currently unable
  to grasp time
       in any other way
(not for lack of trying)
i am stuck with this
     past, present, future
*******.

if you fall into the
t r a p
  of the beckoning past...
and you visualize yourself
           quite literally turning
   your head to look
behind you
                           eyes closed
   summoning memory...
you are about to
   encounter
all kinds of problems.

it is hard
when you
  desperately
try to hold onto
        a time of joy
     recall a person
                         no longer with you
a song
      a smell
fabric
      colors
sometimes these help
but...
good luck with that.

your memories
      are as good as
   your brain
                 - or your old photographs
digital images
       videos
   artifacts
            ...but guess what?
it's all in your head.

and your beautiful mind
      is likely playing
  all kinds of tricks
             on you
       making up complete lies
   presenting you with
           non-existent memories    
making mediocre times (at best)
           seem like "the good old days"
it will cast a false golden
      light over everything and
everyone that will cause you
           to           ...    get              ...stuck
        gazing fondly...tearfully...at the past
...everything glowing so nicely
(if only things could be that way again...)

snap out of it!
now you're a melancholy
    nostalgic
 emotional wreck in
this time, just spitting
         neurons all over the place
  thinking about that other time

if you've angrily slammed
   your brain into reverse
d e t e r m i n e d
      to figure out
what the **** just happened and why
best of luck to you
        where did the last 10 years of my life go?
   why did this person die?
             what went wrong?

go ahead and dig
   that **** up
and make sense of dirt.

because dirt makes
   just about as much sense
as anything else.

so there you are...
    frozen in this time
           in an emotional frenzy
   determined and trusting your
       brain to find the answers
  in the past
(because who better
       than you
    can know and remember?)
                              brain churning backwards
                 like an old tape reel
and what have you got?
   more truth
lies
   exaggerations
misrepresentations....
all in your mind
(let me take a moment here to stress a different word)
all in your mind.

all the real life people
    the three-dimensional objects
are moving  a r o u n d
         you and your crazy brain
in space and time
      (which is also moving)

what's the friggen point?!
i know, i know.
(i'm not saying this facetiously)
it's sad
    that the past is gone.
that actual living people
become past -
        that makes about as much
sense as dirt.

my point?
let's just not
    talk about the friggen past...
it's sad, it seems
   no matter
         how you
    look at it.

whatever you were
wrapped in,
it's gone.
      so get over it.
that feeling of panic
in your gut
      isn't going away
anytime soon
you can't afford
   p r i d e
(though you have a death grip
       on dignity)
life is struggle
    don't hope for escape
because there is no way out
no one is there
  to catch your tears
or return you
to a state of
blissful ignorance

keep pushing down
  your fury
pack it down
  hard
lest it ignite
   and burn what is left
strike the word
fair
   from your repertoire
because the mere thought
of the word
   constricts your chest
with such bitterness
   that it is surely
an unearthly force

don't ruin it
  for the precious little ones
fill their lives
  with color and music
and stories
  because there is
nothing else worth doing
but creating
   let them scribble
and babble and run
and get *****
because that freedom will
be taken from them in
the blink of an eye

don't jade the teenagers
  under your watchful eye,
you fool
   give them color and music
and stories
   and the power to question
and think
   that is all you can do
with your feeble self
    and good luck with the task

don't bother anymore
with pursuit of
politics or philosophy
because nothing matters
your goal
is one foot
in front of the other
without
breaking an ankle.

cousin,
it is judgment day.
the day of my
reckoning
and
  it
is
  y  e  a  r  s
in the making.



one is
l o s t.
cousins are strangers
     and friends
since childhood
sharing
   family   secrets
             jokes   joys   sorrows

all eleven are
at a distance
   not  my
         best friends
   but my family

you, cousin
i chose
   to keep even farther away
and for this
i am
| ashamed |

i quietly watched
as a child
a teenager
a woman

your father
a man made of
   an unbounded source
of love
strength
character
         creativity
cousin,
if your father
   makes me love him so
    just by being who he is
         i cannot imagine
the love you had
          for him as your very own father.
cousin,
if your father
makes me laugh
             at his jokes
and makes every child
love him instantly
i cannot imagine
       how you
looked  up to him
as his son.
cousin,
if your father
makes me believe
    there are still good
  men and fathers and uncles
i cannot imagine
     the pride you felt
   when you looked upon his face.


your mother
a woman absolutely
   driven by
positive energy
       love and determination
cousin,
if your mother
   blows me away
with her love for you
i cannot imagine
how you felt in
        the love she
    surrounded you in
every
single
moment
of your life.
cousin,
if your mother
   makes other people's lives better
       i cannot imagine
             how you felt
as you watched her
    lovingly do her damnedest
     to give you your independence.

cousin,
if i watch your parents together
and feel love
      radiating from them
feel determination
through thick and thin…
i cannot imagine
      how you felt
  looking upon them together
when they didn't know
you were watching
knowing all that they did
was for you.

your sister
a friend
   a caretaker
  an instigator
     an indefinable part of you

cousin,
i watched you and your sister
   act like any other siblings
i babysat you
  when you were young
    but i did not see
   your time alone together
    i did not hear
                 your conversations as
     you learned and grew
         but i can imagine that
      life would have
been unbearable
without your sister
i can imagine
     that having her support
meant everything to you
because i have siblings
i can imagine these things
    and i would cling to my brother and sisters
your love for your sister
must have been like
   a cup overflowing.

and as i watched
i held back
  i could have given more
i could have been your
    friend
  i could have made
      your too short life
  easier
      better
  somehow….i could have
      done something and i didn't.
i watched your family
   in their grace
i watched you in your courage
   and i folded.
i didn't want to know you
     any more than i had to
   because i didn't want to have
  to lose you
         like i knew i would
    i selfishly had a choice
unlike you.
unlike your beautiful family.
and for this i curse myself.
i feel this reckoning
and i confess it
and i carry it
but i just couldn't do it, Ben.

[because not everyone understands what i mean,
though it's obvious to me]

when i say
"you are beautiful"
the meaning
depends on the
[context]
if you know
(and everyone around you knows)
you are a striking
shining
beautiful woman
then i mean,
"you are beautiful."

if you are a person
that has just
spilled their guts
their art
done some
amazingly selfless
act
then i mean
"you are *beautiful."

however,
if i'm speaking
to you*,
and i say
"you are beautiful"
i am saying it
in a
g a l a c t i c
                      |cosmic|
(cellular)
e l e c t r o n - like way

i am saying
that thoughtful look
that comes across
your face
lives in
my heart

i mean
that when i see
your body
i
temp
orar
ily
lose
my
breath…
and my first instinct
is to pour
glitter gold glory
over
you
which would
bring me to tears

when i say
(those words)
i mean that
your neurons are firing
in perfect time
that every decision
you make and
emotion you
reveal
is
right

for you alone
- these words -
s t r e t c h and
enfold
and include
trust and love and
judgement
without these
[there is nothing solid]

i don't call you
an     a i r y    beauty
or a flameless cute or
a lone handsome
your brain connections have
shown themselves to
be level
calm

you are beautiful
because i said i
wanted to give you
something
    and you said
       you already had everything
  and i knew in that moment
             that you meant those words

you are beautiful
because your voice
was made for me alone
to hear my name being said…
   so that it sounds like a drum

you are beautiful
in the blue
        of your eyes
   and the little part of
      your ears
the corners of your mouth
   the softness of
your hair
the hardness of
              your thighs
   the strength in
    your arms
the sureness
          in your chest

my beautiful one
i only want you to know
    that since i found a
beautiful
      cosmic
   ethereal man
like you
  i want you for myself
      i want to show you the way

if others have failed
   to see you for who
you are
     then they are
vile creatures, indeed

when i say
you are beautiful
   i mean i see the creator
                  in you
       the spinner of reality
   who deftly grabs his
warped or broken world
         and shapes it anew
without leaking dark bitterness
onto others
      while plucking strings
   and summoning images
            from the wild vastness
of imagination

you have caught my
eye     my
      ear      my
            body
wild one

in your presence
i listen and i connect
       i watch and i remember
              i feel every touch to the core

in the stillness
these words bombard me

because i could never
say this to your face -
   i would sound
    like a silly
          over-emotional
                   unstable
girl.

so instead i lamely say,

"i really like you."
"you are beautiful."

but believe me,

i am no girl.
i am not silly.
i am not over-emotional.
i am not unstable.
i am simply a poet.

i see, i feel, and the words come.
these words are true and rather
   un-emotional at times
        more like scientific facts
being fed from the environment
     and filtered through my senses
             my brain
                     my chemicals
and spit out in
data called poetry.

here is the data regarding your beauty.
interpret it as you will.

oh,
the women are always
so silly and
c o n f u s e d!

can't you see that?
don't you see that is the problem?

listen to h e r.
l i s t e n to her.
listen t o her.

if you aren't listening to her,
you aren't listening to me.

if all i get
  is a miniscule shred
of sarcastic,
   cynical
w r e t c h e d
   self-defeating
hope
   then i guess
that's the ******* fire i will breathe.

i guess I
am the firebreather
     round these parts
I am the dragon

setting things ablaze
  in my fury
crushing whole towns under my feet
climbing the skies
with magnificent dark wings

you should
run in terror from me
because you will never again find
a dragon in possession
  of such profound richness
so terrible a truth
  that you will not meet my gaze

mistakes have been made.
yes?
no.
life has been lived in fire and passion and hope
in this there can be no mistake.

nope, sorry.

not,
AMERICA FIRST.

*humanity first.

we are protesting.

why we won't shut up.

because we are angry.
because we have had enough.
and we are throwing down
a line in the sand.

enough.

standing up for yourself
and other human beings
in the face of danger and adversity
is one of the hardest things
a person can do.

it takes guts.
it takes determination.
it takes strength.

and for that you mock us
like children.
calling us names.

you are reflecting in every way
what we find repulsive
in this man.

for months,
we heard every excuse
in the book to
get your man
off the hook.

about women.
about minorities.
about immigrants.
about refugees.
about the first amendment.

people continue to struggle
for things you take
for granted.

and instead of showing
kindness, empathy, and understanding,

you align yourself
with a demagogue

who has no problem
standing in front
of the world
complaining.
whining.
showing contempt
and ignorance for everyone
under the sun.
blaming everyone else for his problems.

shows absolutely no empathy
for anyone but a select few.

seeks, encourages,
and causes
division.

i'm not sure what is going on
inside you that
you can't see that.

that you can't recognize
danger when it is about
to engulf you.

that you can't remember
the cold facts of history.

when one group of
citizens' rights are threatened,
we are all threatened.

when one group is marginalized,
we are all marginalized.

you feel safe in this society.

and you don't
understand
those of us
who do not.

you do not put yourself
in the place of others.

some of us can.
and some of us do.
some of us have
seen injustice,
inequality,
and bullying
with our own eyes.

some of us realize
that even though you don't think
your way of life is in jeopardy,
it is.

and by standing up for ourselves
we are standing up for you.

we have to protect the most
vulnerable among us.

we are done with excuses.
with discrimination.
with sexism.
with victim blaming.

we are done.

so, yes
you are going to
see opposition.

and if you spread
lies, nonsense, and hatred

don't expect to go
unchallenged.

*because we are done.

you know something
borderline genius
is going to surface
  when there are cigar butts
next to my markers
and i got out my hottie wine glass

i don't know how
to not be this way

this is how i am.

disappointing
misunderstood
lost in thought

there can be
no more of this
letting in
no more of this...
this
there just cannot.

the things i want
[aren't real]
there aren't words to describe
a desire for
    a way to be
there is no way to say
that i just
          want
          peace.

despair      
a hollow ache
and empty gut
when a life invested
is laid bare
to the truth
of misaligned
roads
and all that is you
is proven
a little off track
a little too soft

despair
when all
the risks
have been revealed
fruitless

an effort
to drag every thought
from the
pit of fear
growing silently
the panic
gripping every
fiber of your being
telling you to run

despair
when there is
nowhere to turn
this feat of endurance
too much
this constant
second guessing
eroding
what is left

a body is hard pressed
to contain
such anguish
a mind
is disciplined
for only so much
before
connections sever
and something is lost
that cannot be regained

the mind
is hard pressed
to describe
its own torment
the sense of self
constructed so carefully
is exposed as temporal
and
under pressure
will begin to crack

there is no irony
just abandoned ignorance
biology and chemistry
and
a plagued
awareness of consciousness

i did something
new tonight
(just an fyi)

i sat
on a wet rock
next to a creek
in the rain
with a brown umbrella
darkness looming,
   i thugged it out with jay-z
i lived for the city
       with stevie
               i raged against the machine
i found my own bravado
        with lorde
   i settled down to rose darling

and i found all
the voices
compelling
as i watched leaves
fall then
hit the water
moving in a rush

i looked up at
the grey clouds
and stared at my
black shoes
i twirled the
umbrella to
watch water
spray out

and i thought
to myself,
"am i just a big mouth?"
because that's what i feel like
a big yapping
mouth

yet i am
almost always
clothed in
s i l e n c e
   ...alone
quiet
   no words are
uttered from my
lips
the majority
of each day

then why do i
feel so
loud
when i live
in my mind
when i consider
my life
through
the tick. tick. tick.

all i do
is
think think think
     /consider/
weigh
and it
gets me
nowhere
but deeper
into this
abyss of
memory and
fantasy

what are
the rest of
the humans doing?
am i in
s p a c e?
i seem to
be
in a different
realm...

and now i'm letting you know.

i've been staring
into the void
and it's been staring back
p u l l i n g me
closer
whispering truths
smoke billows
and i'm dancing
like the devil got ahold
of me
it's such an odd
and very specific world
i inhabit
my own personal
                  funky town
i need someone
to DROP THE BASS
directly on me
pull me to the center of the earth
then propel me into space
on magma and music
and i will laugh
all the way to the moon
berries and cloves and
deep bass and drums help
keep me sane
because i don't see
the place i belong
i don't think i belong anywhere
except inside
my own creations
alone,
i paint the paper
i scratch on the wall
i paint my body
i move
like the music
was born in me
...how do i find myself
when everyone seems to think
i'm right here?
trap music
trap me
drop the bass on me
because i can't find
a bass-less place
to be