If you've never been
Completely delusional
The world doesn't
Sadden you enough.

If you're too saddened
By the world
You might not be
Thankful enough.

If you're not
Thankful enough,
You might not have
Enough to be thankful for.

If you have enough
To be thankful for,
You should feel blessed.

If you don't feel blessed,
Take a moment to
See the good in the world.

If you don't see
The good in the world,
You just might go
Completely delusional.

A poem can't fail
Writing can't end.
There's always more to tell,
There's writing to amend.
The only poem I think
That can actually sink
Is the one left unfurled.
Unreleased to the world.
Don't leave those thoughts
In your artist's mind.
Such a shame it should rot
When you have the time.
You have a story to be told.
Let the barriers of your mind unfold.

I'm equipped with a flaw
Under my surface.
How it got there is a mystery,
For there is no purpose
Of being manic
And causing panic.

My flaw is hidden
From the public eye
It benefits me
To not be scrutinized.
Unless I'm manic
And causing panic.

I'm medicated for life already
Even though I'm a young lady.
I need coping skills
And I might not be ready
For my next manic
Attack and panic.

It's all fun and games
And a great big party
To be so happy
And live so heartily,
When I'm manic
Which leads to panic.

My senses are enhanced,
Music moves my bones,
But pretty soon
The joy will be gone
Away goes the manic
On comes the panic.

My dose is increased
Much to my dismay
Because at the time
It's so fun to play.
Goodbye, manic.
Farewell, panic.

I flip through my inked pages,
Chuckling at myself.
Oh, the things you'll say
When mania sets your way.
Yet hard it is
To wear your heart on a sleeve.
Which is essentially what happens
When you write what you believe.

Every decision can alter your life
In unpredictable measures.
Every moment can be a
Disaster or a treasure.
Every breath you take can
Draw in love or exhale horror.
Every minute can add substance
Or can add painful trauma.
Every moment that passes could be
The best moment of your life.
You could be surrounded by
Loved ones, beauty, and blithe.
Or every moment can be
The worst moment of your life.
Overwhelmed with incredible sadness,
Maddened by grievous plight.
It's these little moments that
Make up our being,
Whatever moments pass us
And feelings we are feeling.

"You're a perfect person
And I ruined you,"
Were the words
Said to me by you
That moved me.
That awakened me
From my psychotic stupor.
The last time I saw you
I had just tried to run from you
And was brought away
In handcuffs so tight.
For three long weeks
I thought you were the enemy -
Maybe it was me.
Maybe it was my mind.
My ruined self.

The Buddha sits still
For hours, then days,
And soon a spider
Comes creeping along and
Weaves its web
On the Enlightened's
Meditating form.

Spiders are a girl's best friend
Or so they think, I dread.
They have started a trend
Where they appear in my bed.
You might find it laughable
They crawl to me when I cry.
Although the spiders are affable,
I'd rather be consoled by a butterfly.

An insect dives at my head,
A winged Kamakazi attack.
I'm startled, I think of ways
To obliterate. My mind returns
To peace. I see the beauty
In the moment. The insect
Charged into battle
By darting at me -
Life's biggest threat:
A distressed, depressed
Excessively oppressive
Life form known as human.
The insect was only armed
With bravery and valor,
A war hero with no chance
Of medals or statues,
Eulogies or plaques.
Scarcely a memory.
Forever.

I'm underpaid.
If it takes me an hour's pay
To buy my lunch
I have a hunch
I'm underpaid.
Because I'm paid the
Minimum wage.
Why this isn't a cause of rage
Among politicians that their citizens
Are underpaid
On minimum wage
I'm afraid I can't say.
I can't rent my own place,
A problem I can easily trace
Back to my low pay
On the minimum wage.
I hope this is a stage
Because I honearly can't say
How I'd survive if I stay
Underpaid
On minimum wage.
While I can't pay my bills
Billionaires fly around country for thrills
Tax breaks, relax mate,
It's better than giving them to
The underpaid
On minimum wage.
To be able to pay the price
Of things I need would be nice,
But there's no room to play
Living day by day
Underpaid
On minimum wage.
My wages are a joke,
No way I can't be broke
Living this way.
I'd just like higher pay
For minimum wage.

Humans are demons to creatures
With whom we inhabit the land.
And the sea of course,
We destroy their life source,
No one is exempt from the wrath of man.

How does it feel to be a monster?
A plague on this fragile earth?
That can't support our greed
Or our irrelevant needs.
Who are we to judge an animal's worth?

To look into an animal's eyes
And say our actions are justified
Requires more denial
Than is my style.
I can't support the way they died.

We treat animals like commodities.
Use them for food, sport, game.
It isn't quite right
To crush them with our might.
The way we treat them is a shame.

So when you ask me
Why I choose this life
Maybe you'll see
Animals should be free
From the human inflicted strife.

I saw a skipping crow
Boy, did he go,
Just to get out of my way.
He had a pep in his step,
He hopped, not lept
In the most innocent way.
I found it ironic
This bird so gothic
Was skipping so merrily.
It was a funny sight, it most definitely
Made a difference in my day.

She finds her glee
Through starlight and moonbeams
At night.
Through bees and trees that sway
By day.
Through the ocean and sandy feet
Where the water and the earth meet
And greet
Mountains and hilly terrain.
Green plains.
Marry me
To this earth
Harbor it
In my heart
For all eternity.
And preserve
Its versatility.

My poetry garden
Hosts a banana tree.
Fuscha flowers in my view,
Complete with lots of green.

My poetry garden
Is where many animals roam.
Cats and bees, lizards and snails
All make this their home.

My poetry garden
Always has the best weather;
Sunshine and breeze every day,
I've never felt anything better.

My poetry garden
Is where I go to write.
It's where I wrote this, in fact,
Won't you share in my delight?

Your father's making you eat your peas,
How about we keep the peace?
Slip me your plate, I'll eat
Your peas because they are a treat!

Together we share a room.
Sunshine shines through
Our window in the morn
As I lay next to your sleeping form.
For Labor Day to give me this peace
Is more than enough to please.
I kiss you on the cheek,
You smile at me, asleep.
We've been apart for the last two years
So I hold these holidays dear
When you're home. Let's celebrate
The day; Happy Labor Day!

I've left my darkness
In the past,
Those days have passed.
I'm now the light that manifests
In a woman of twenty-one.

Like a flower
Budded and scented
My beauty unrelented;
Such power
For a woman of twenty-one.

I saw a bird soar,
It was something more
Than any regular fellow;
Its feathers were the most yellow
Of anything I've ever seen.
How does it remain unseen
With such a yellow gleam?
Did I see it in a dream?
I stopped and stared in awe,
Not believing what I saw.
Yellow and black,
Not a beauty it lacked,
I won't forget it soon;
I haven't for many moons.

Jubilance manifests
In many places;
Butterflies, trees,
And children's faces.
A child, to me
Is something I won't possess.
But surrounding myself with children
Can bring me joy without the stress.
But maybe someday
My feelings won't remain stagnant.
I'll want a child's artwork
On the fridge with a magnet.

Cruisin' convertible, top down.
Feeling fine, feeling fly;
That is until, of course
I get something in my eye.

Vibrant flowers full of bloom,
I hate to introduce the gloom,
But one thing I'd like to discern:
Will I have flowers this bright
When death is my turn?

It gives me satisfaction
And a heartfelt smile
That you'll be my lover
For longer than awhile.
I love you.
Me with my flowers,
And you with your game,
A hippie and a nerd,
In love without shame.
I love you.
What a sight it will be
When we make it to the end.
What sights we will see
At every curve and bend.
I love you.
My first kiss was with you,
Who holds my desires.
My last kiss will be you too
At the fall of our empires.
Guess what?

The sun, it has seen
The early dawn of mankind,
Who for centuries were keen
On the blazing ball in the sky.
Nowadays, artificial light casts a glow
Unfamiliar to none.
If we take a moment to bathe in the sun's splendour
We can ponder the wonder
Of how we have all seen the same sun.

I saw her in my room.
She crossed it towards my bed.
The music was playing,
A song conveying
Mysticism and wonder in my head.

Maybe it was paranoia.
Or perhaps just fantasy.
But there she was,
Maybe because
I have a spirit following me.

The spirit and the ego,
At war for a turn
To guide my ways
Through all of days
From the cradle to the urn.

The ego goes down, the walls follow.
My spirit emerges nimble and free.
Its stay is short,
The doctors will thwart
The ignited spiritual emergency.

Emotion pulses through me,
My mind and voice are rapid.
A needle through my arm
To abate my alarm.
Soon I'll feel vacant and vapid.

Now I sit at home,
Too lethargic to walk out the door.
Perhaps low energy
Is better than insanity,
Considering where it got me before.

This is how it ought to be,
The ego in control of it.
I lose my mind,
Become unkind,
From an unleashed, suppressed spirit.

Take my hand,
Handsome warrior.
I will help you tread,
Dreadful as you feel.
I am by your side all this while.
You look at me and smile.
Your pain physical,
My pain mental.
Our suffering entwined
But we don't mind.
You help me out of delusion,
A problem with no easy solution.
You are by my side all this while.
I look at you and smile.

You must want
All of me
For if you take
Some of me
You wouldn't have me.
You could possibly
Arrange all the variables
Of me
And come up with someone else.
Take them.
For if you want me,
You must want all of me.

Golden arches,
Some stop to eat.
Mouse ears,
Some stop to retreat.

All these shops that we see
And all the smiling faces
Plastered on a mascot
Brings the viewer to higher places.

The holidays come,
The people gather 'round
A flat screen TV
And knock each other to the ground.

Here used to lie an orange grove
That provided for the land.
Now times have changed, values too.
In its place a theme park stands.

This generation's happines
Can be bought and sold
By paper we deem valuable
For that is what we're told.

Yet the sight of a valley
Brings me more joy
Than any handy dandy
Service, gadget, toy.

Fingers delicately trace
The bounded bounty
Of paper and ink
That lie before me
In neatly organized
Shelves.
Carefully alphabetized.
Without knowledge of genre,
I walk the aisles
Waiting for inspiration.
A spark of interest.
Choosing a book
Is half the fun
And walking home
Choice in arms
Already wondering
What my next choice
Will be.

Sometimes life is not what it seems,
Sometimes it's all unseen.
Sometimes it's all fun and games,
Sometimes hearts beat loudly.
Sometimes eyes shine,
Sometimes smiles bring across
The darkness in the morn.
Sometimes a tearful lullaby
Is all you need to mourn.

Today is a day
A day to be remembered
Today is a play
I'm on opening act
Without a say
On how it is run
Or what to say
I am just me
That's all I'll ever be.

Brimming with joy
Becoming a star
Little by little
I will go far.
With kindness in my heart
And a compassionate soul.
Gifted from the start
With a spirit that's whole.

I'm brought to the ward
In my sleep
I'm confused
I'm asked to strip
I won't allow it
And so it begins.

I'm in the ward,
I'm protesting,
Military hospital,
I'm brought to a padded cell
I fall to my knees
Frightened and crying.

I'm in the ward,
Singing and dancing
Some scared,
Some enchanted,
One angered
She strikes me with a weapon,
A household mug,
I cry and cry.

I'm in the ward,
The best place
To  meet people,
To make friends,
To make someone's day
With a smile.

I'm in the ward,
I've made a friend
And told not to befriend
"Don't talk to her"
He warns.
Am I danger?
Am I a shame?

I'm in the ward,
I feel for these
Fragile women.
I want to help them.
I would be the only one
Who does.

I'm in the ward,
I'm called names.
Who am I
To complain?
I'm panicking,
And laughed at
By staff.

I'm in the ward
I am guided through
Meditation.
It brings me out of
Panic.
Eternally grateful.

I leave the ward
And tears fill my eyes.
I'm going home,
And hope to never return.
But we don't plan these things.
They just are,
And we just are.

We have with us a tree
We've planted and will grow
We've sat under it for years
Yet it's still awfully low.
One day it will bear fruit
That will call us dad and mom
And together we'll share the shade
From a tree that once sat in our palm.

Without a bluejay
Life is so very nay.
Without a brother like you
Dreams are bitter too.
Without a crossword puzzle
Or maybe a toy train
Life is not the same at all,
Life is not the same.

A life full of bloom
Wouldn't that be grand?
To carry on through gloom
And have him understand
Who it is that I am
And what does affect me
My heart gentle as a lamb
That turns into the tiger you see.

A spiritual soul
Through and through
And who, I may ask
Ever knew
I could sprout wings
And take flight
Like the birds I admire
That fly into the light.

Positivity is key
To a happy life
Even birds realize
They have to fly
Do they feel fear
When they take wing?
Or do they rejoice
And flutter and sing?

Cherries are sweet
Yes, it's true
But damaged ones are
So sweet too
They may look unhappy
Or maybe scary
But tarnished cherries are
One I would marry.