The absinthe was poured
Soon thirst will be quenched
The water then added
The green fairy did change
So my brain could be drenched
And my mind would derange
What was peridot green
Is now most opaline
The fennel and anise
Are present indeed
But the taste of the wormwood
Is the flavor I need

Laying awake, a wake, my wake. Won't let them take,
something I could never fake. A pretty melody I wouldn't
try to make. Every time I'm falling down, I fall to pieces, and
break.

Face it, we live short lives, don't wast it.
Encourage one another, and smile.
Bake a pie for a neighbor, and taste it.
Goodness becomes a habit after a while.
Changing thought patterns to better yourself
is a great practice
With goodness you can love and live with style.
Every man chooses how he marches in the parade of life
Practice goodness and I doubt you'll have much strife.

You open fire on my smiling skull.
Why would you follow my failing pull?
So alone. So wrong!
So why even sing this mistaken song?
My failed path should not be retraced by anything but the Maker's wrath.
But do I hath anything to say to defend my choice?
Nothing that I would want to come from my voice.

Running from that which chases,
Running from that which kills.
Hiding because there is no other option left.
Having a feeling burning, deep inside of my soul.
Not realizing what it is, not caring anymore,
Knowing only that it drives the body to run more and more.
To feel the touch that death will bring.
Driven on by only one little thing
that is called simply- FEAR.

The voices pierce my thoughts like lightening bolts
Filling what could be silence or ideas
Loneliness and need leave holes in my psyche
Though I'm alone, I'm still beside myself
My few friends are "acquaintances"
Though I do love them dearly
The Spirit of God is so abiding
It makes me wake early
Eager to minister to the souls in hiding.

Death is so final for only the living,
My soul is in flight because of God's giving!

Cuts that you bandage
Result in who you are now
Ignore the regret

I'm proud to be out of my mind and in God's control.
I'm happy to say that He owns my soul.
My name is written in the book of life.
So why then do I cut my arms with a knife?
I try to think of thoughts that are good.
I'd lead a saner life if I could.
I have Christ's example to follow.
I feel this misery's so hollow.
I think of things I've done and said.
And my mind feels so cold and dead.
Yet I find  hope in God's good love.
I can feel Him blessing me from above.
Yes, there is hope in Jesus.

I've learned the facts, and met the Truth and put my faith in Him. I have the tracts, and feel the urge to go out and evangelize. But without a car, or a bicycle I'm a bit limited right now. Though there's always a way to get the Word out, even at home, one can figure out how. My ministry might not be of huge size but His Word never returns void. So I try to be patient, and not be annoyed. But I'm a relatively isolated fellow, and have a photographer's eye, so I feel alone in life though I know I'm not. And miss the times I used to go, on a whim, to a particular place that I had sighted earlier and planned to later take a special trip and photograph the awesome beauty. I don't understand how anyone could not realize that the universe (one-word) was spoken into existence by our Creator. But not everyone has eyes to see. I appreciate His creation, and often wish I had someone around who shares my interests. But the things that I try to accomplish often fail, so I'm just waiting on Him. If it be what He wills for me...that, I would love. But I've learned that His timing is conceived up above. So I just hang in there and listen to Him. Resting in the knowledge that in Christ we win.

The movie was on as I sat down and watched.
Started laughing so hard, my bowl of popcorn was tossed.
Belly laughing so suddenly, it just couldn't be stopped.
I can't figure out why this movie flopped.
Laughter's good medicine, in fact so much so,
If I can go out laughing, than that's how I'd go.

I'm so tired of the things that I fear,
And so tired of the things that I "hear"
I've never seen the end so clear,
I'm getting tired.
I used  to use my mind.
I used to wonder "why".
You generalize and tell me lies
That's not the way it ought to be.
Do you really want to deal with me?
So mad.
So mean.
And the pain, as always, remains unseen...

There is no huge brain inside of my dome, it was replaced with a slow metronome. It doesn't stop moving, just ticking and talking at night I'm out stalking the streets as my mood swings and sways to the beat in my head. Mania? Yeah, the opposite of dead but in depression I'm just hanging to life by a thread. Swinging back and forth with significant force like a ballpeen hammer, hard enough to **** a horse. Like a blunt force trauma bringing nothing but drama, so I tire of the fire and I suffer but whatever but the flames be growin' higher and it's an oil fire so don't be throwing water or it'll just get hotter and roar louder so dowse me with the baking powder, better yet, a better powder, ya got good coke? Can I get some of that snow chucked into my head sometimes the numbness is better than dead. To quote the great Tom Waits "I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy." I'd say I agree. Though at the end of the day it's not up to me.

I get so depressed at times I feel like I can't take it, and I'm going to just ***** up my life. And then have to pick it all up, and eat it again.

Sometimes when you open your eyes the widest, is when they are squeezed shut the tightest.

O Sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weight my eyelids down
And steep my senses on forgetfulness?...
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?...
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose?

Suddenly the plot sickens… Lurching out of a comatose state, the sudden onset of panic…left with a past that has never passed…was and is always present. At present, past and a past present, both distinctly different from the present prospect of the past degenerating already into a future prospect which will never be. Suffer that. Being prey to anxiety, nostalgia and hope…. to attain from time to time the absolute serenity of a perception of timelessness, a state of lack of perception of time; to fuse together some brief fragments of eternity, we can perceive on this side of life, through a glass darkly. Though eventually will perceive with crystal clarity, in sharp focus. Simulators. Emulators. I keep bumpin’ intae mysel. That’s just the point. Around the bend. It’s not the end. Sons of fear and sorrow, will you cheer tomorrow? Sons of toil and danger, will you serve a stranger? A new beginning, never ending. Still sometimes I feel so low that I want tae “top mysel.” But I will go on. God is ma strength. He is ma Salvation. The only Way, The Truth and The Life. Love. Always was and always will be. HE IS.

Man, proud man.
Dressed in a little brief authority over someone else's tasks,
Most ignorant of what he is most assured,
His brief evanescence, ever evading the desperate futile grasps,
In life the things we buy won't keep,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As to make the angels weep.

What can a man alane do?
What can he say? But company costs.
Not dollars nor cents. But recompense.
The cost is oftain high and makes nai sense.
If you think I've made errors it's Scots not that I'm dense.

Thank you Lord Jesus for always staying with me. For never leaving me whilst in the valley of the shadow of death, Lord, Your mighty love, your guiding rod, Your comforting staff, they inform me. Thank You Jesus for helping me to use, even the toughest of times to glean some forms of positive personal growth and for the spreading of the hope Your Holy Spirit brings... It's good to know that You've got my back, Lord Jesus...

Yes, space was yielding its whole mental padding
in which no thought was yet clear
or had replentished its load of objects.
But little by little the mass turned,
like a slimy and powerful nausea,
a sort of vast influx of blood,
vegetable and thundering.
The very darkness became profuse and
without object.
The total frost gained clarity.

Your water's drying
Your life is in the cup
Your trees are dying
Your wildlife's locked up
You're in the zoo man...
When will you wake up?
How do you feel about it?
Do you accept and submit,
Throw in the towel and quit,
Or turn humbly to God and
With a heart of contrition
Ask Him to to be forgiven
Repenting for and turning from
The sin that was our own decision
Through the ultimate sacrifice,
Jesus Christ was crucified
He paid the cost of our sinful life
With His bloodshed He became The Way
That us sinners when we died
With Him, we died to sin
Three days later when He rose again
He defeated death, the wages of our sin.
Trust in Him He's the Solid Rock
On His firm foundation
We have sure salvation.
Through Jesus Christ !

Let us go forward quietly each on his own path,
forever making for the light,
and in the knowledge that we are as others are and that others are as we are
and that it is right to love one another in the best possible way,
believing all things , hoping for all things and enduring all things,
and never failing. And not being too troubled by our weaknesses,
for even he who has none, has one weakness, namely that he has none,
and anyone who believes himself to be consummately wise would do well to be foolish all over again.

Where is the coin that doesn't fit the ruse?
Shall it be given to those with none?
Recluses are in joint gatherings to stumble upon an unknown truth.
There is a way to walk away, to get to the other side, leaving yourself behind.
In my feelings a deeper thought awakens a blue sky of sapphire and forgotten dreams.
I hope at least one other person gets something from what I write.
Hoping what I say makes some sort of sense.
Extremely vivid dying dreams, I hope to God I can see what it means.
We are surrounded by poetry on all sides, but putting it on paper is, alas,
not as readily done as looking at it.

In my mind, reality doesn't follow a strait narative.
I get lost sometimes. Spychogenic fugue.
My mind is like a dog, it obeys me sometimes
and others, it get out of the fence and misbehaves.

As he stared at me,
his face set,
I couldn't look, as on the
Open magazine, no reading,
But only to see him peering.

He stared at me as I slept,
Stared as I ate.
The Father of Our Country
I soon began to hate.
They took my gun, they took
My freedom,
Soon I'll get out of here
And give George a beating.

Still he stares, still
he looks
And once again they hit me
With the books.
I tried to injure the guard,
To get the key.
That danged picture keeps
lookin' at me!

I'm in the jail, I'm in the pen.
For anywhere from five to ten.
You could not know how I feel
as I sit and shut my eyes.
Be careful, they're watching you,
Under their disguise.

Noiselessly, the world has begun to defect.
From it chaos flows like blood trailing an abcess,
the poison itself long since passed.
Ash and flowering flame.
The sinking of an eyelid like a blue vault sleeplesness
sits with folded arms.
Peeling words from the walls,
This obsession runs deep untill the desire itself is broken and wasted.
The sistine eye , the twisting thigh.
If dead skin says nothing, than it cannot lie...

Day and night, I try to fight the great fight, my lone attempts are always failing, can only reach success through the King of kings, because of Him my heart now sings. The war is won, because The Father sent His Son. Now I don’t live in fear, because of Christ always being here. I surrender all to The Holy One and I’m sealed with The Spirit. This won’t ever be undone. The Rock is stable and the firm foundation makes me able to survive the storm and not get lost. Jesus Christ paid the cost of my own sin, and because of this, over death we win. The deceptive one has been beat, but he still spreads his deceit but I’m on my feet and not at all will I be discreet about the love of God. T’would be too odd, after all that God has done for me and my family, so The Son of Man has a battle plan and a better view of the battlefield. So to Him I yield everything. Thank You Lord for the love You bring… 🙏🏻

The springs of Autumn give way to the wings of Winter.

I feel like an empty writer.
The writing dead. A freak.
Nothing but the migrations of the human soul tonight.

If I ever cared at all about anything, the sweet love of our King and Creator is my cause to sing! Rather than regurgitate the same old thing, and moving my mouth in meaningless shapes. I’d rather sing to YHWH the praises He so deserves, if such a song could I even sing, to Him no justice I’m sure I could bring. Though He loves me anyway, and while I was still dead in sin! I mean, on that old rugged cross He did what no other ever could. He who knew no sin, fully God, fully man, stepped down from His throne and wore a body of flesh, and bore the sin of the world, this God/man did only good. As only He could. Yet He already foresaw His painful death, so that’s why with His very last breath, He said “It is finished!” Jesus Christ paid the ultimate price. In the courtroom of life He, Jesus Christ, paid our deathly fines so we may be reconciled to The Father through the blood of Jesus. Legal and just is His love for us. All one needs to do, is accept his gift, repent sincerely, and ask Him to reside in your heart, trusting him like the solid Rock He is. Hallelujah Yahweh!!

Bringing us to life,
Nurturing us, caring for us.
Teaching us all manner of things,
From beginning to end.
Ever going onward, ravaging us in its wake.
Leaving no pebble unturned in passing.
Tearing through and affecting all.
Seeing a shell left behind, mourning a loss,
rejoicing in release, if ever it will come.
If ever one is released, by our ever present jailer.
Time.

The hammer is falling, my fists are clenching, my teeth are gnashing while my bones are crunching. Waves of pain are crashing, smashing against me, finally breaking. This level of pain can't be good to be taking, bad for my health. The voices are calling but no one is there, not even myself. My blood is pumping, sped by adrenaline dumping. The lack of the drug is inducing my mind to start seizing, both my legs are freezing, involuntarily quaking. The sensation of claws are slashing my back. As my heart keeps thumping, jumping around - heart attack? Now my blood is pooling. So the attack dogs keep drooling. They smell the blood and begin to whip into a frenzy, so I jump up, and run like McKenzie. Moving fast, as if I had wheels, one dog was faster and now nips at my heels. The dog bit my foot so I tripped and then fell. Now it’s gnawing on my leg, and I don’t feel very well. So I patted the dog’s head and then laid down for a spell…will I wake up? Only time will tell. When I come to my senses I won't feel at all well. Life hurts at times, unbearably so. If not for Divine intervention, I'd much rather go.

Be what you would seem to be-
or, if you'd like it put more simply-
never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than
what it might appear to others that what you
were or might have been was not
otherwise than what you had been,
would have appeared to them
to be otherwise.