The clever
endeavor
to become
as wise
as they can,

while the fool
thinks he understands,
makes unruly demands
based on plans
that won’t really work.

The wisest among us
know there is always more
to learn
and that we must earn
the knowledge
to use it
with wisdom

while the idiot
seeks to conquer a kingdom
that doesn’t exist
by attaining tainted profits
cause greed
is a product
of faulty logic
that truly costs us
our future.

I did what I had to do,
just to get through
the day to get you
to listen to what I say.

I struggled to this point
to make decent pay
and still I feel
each struggle
was a battled waged
in vain.

I recall
all the dreams I had.
Now I know
why poets feel bad,
cause the real world
never lives up to
what weird word rhapsodies
can do for you.

Like a falling star
or a candle in the wind
I keep burning
but I am not made
to relight the fury
when it goes out.

Though I live
a life of doubt
uncertain
what this hurting
situation is all about,
I still put verbs
and nouns down
cause this lyrical clown
is trying to leave
something worthwhile
behind.

She is a nightmare
like a velociraptor
rapping from the rafters
chasing after
the sound
of a killer clown's
maniacal laughter.

I've been trying to
avoid her,
that self-destroyer
who tends to
pull me down to
her lower level.

But she caught me
by my dangling generosity
and kindhearted disposition.

I thought that these
were good qualities,
but I think I need to
get rid of them,
so, I don't have to
talk to
that **** drama queen.

I woke up this morning in a state of despair
My body in panic and I just didn't really care

Except when I don't care, I actually really do
Because the pain that I feel makes that statement untrue

I've barely even lived, and yet at times lived too long
Because this world feels unfamiliar, this world feels so wrong

I don't ever fit in with anyone that's around,
I'm somebody that nobody ever can ground,

I'm up soaring in the air, and then down low in a hole,
And I question myself, do I even have a soul?

As the people I love, can as quick be someone I hate,
They can make me feel awful and then as quickly feel great

When I see something I want, my desire overgrows
Til the temptation takes over, no boundaries it knows

At times I'm invincible, or so myself I convince
Invincibility is a mask, that I've been wearing ever since

My trauma was so painful, the memory it burns
It replays in my mind, it tosses and it turns

It broods and it grows getting bigger and bigger
There's a switch that it flips when there's suddenly a trigger

The person I hide and keep under constraint
Breaks free of it's shackles to over-express it's complaint

I can't take it anymore, I can't bear this distress,
I can't feel this suffocated and a floor heaped hot mess

I can't put on the smile you so want me to bear
I can't hide this pain anymore, it's just not fair

Why do I have to have BPD?
What did I ever do, to be imprisoned and never free?

The trauma I went through, that wasn't my fault
And yet I'm punished each day, by this mental assault

It makes me feel things, I don't want to feel
It makes me react to things that aren't even real

You say I need to grow up, and that I act like child
But I never developed the tools to be reconciled

I act as a child, because it's all that I know
I feel safe under my pillow fort covered by a throw

That child sense of security most people leave behind
Is still very much my haven when safety is hard to find

Trust doesn't come easy, when my trust is always broken
My mind screams it's torment, whilst my lips stay soft-spoken

I don't cry, I pour, and when I'm angry I burn with rage
I try to keep my emotions locked up in a cage

But I feel in extremes, once out, they're let loose,
Connecting a bomb to a very short fuse

Were sorry if you're on the other side of our pain
It can be very difficult to try and refrain

When we feel or think we're about to be abused
Our defence goes up in fear of being battered and bruised

But if it's any consolation, because I know it's a lot,
To deal with each day, I'll understand if you cannot

But when I love, it's without reason, and with passionate fire
You're my only hope, belief, obsession and desire

My illness does not define the truth of who I am,
It explains that I'm suffering, and I do give a ****

So when I say I don't care, I promise I actually really do
I'm scared you will leave, I'm scared you will be untrue,

Out of fear, and out of love, I will push you away,
But if you actually go, I will not cope each day

It's a lot to take in, and I know that it's hard
But together, working together, my life can be easier and less scarred.

Even after all this time
Impossible as it seems
You don’t know
The colour of my dreams

You don’t know me
Marrow deep
But why should you know
All the secrets I keep

You don’t know
What my heart can't admit
Or the darkness inside
I can't talk about it

You don't know
The stories i tell
The things that i do
When i'm feeling unwell

You do know how i like
To sing while I clean
And when I'm anxious
I can be kind of mean

You do know I'm always
Getting lost in my mind
Plotting and planning
And dreaming combined

That should suffice
You do know me quite well
But if you want to share
Love, please do tell

NCL May 2019

Everything we do is wrong
There’s no win to be found
We’re polluting the air,
The oceans, the ground
Our bags are a problem
and our coffee cups ****
The clothes that we wear
Show we don’t give a ****
About the environment
Or the next generations
This single use planet
Has too many temptations

The killer in me
stared diligently
at the latest
human oddity.

Little man
suffering
the sickness
of addiction,
spitting
spastic rage
as his energy faded.

The anger gave way
to admitting the pain
of living
prevented him
from quitting
cause existing
just wasn't enough
to maintain
a healthy mental state.

This was said
in his own slurring way
but I must paraphrase
because
I was too distracted
by the way he lay
quivering.

Eyes dimming
but reflecting
a past worth inspecting,
one of parents rejecting
and hitting him,
of ****** abuse
at the whim
of some predatory kin.

But,
even at the edge
he was still scheming,
thinking, and dreaming
about the next fix,
the one that would
heal or dull this
bad moment
for a bit.

Until,
his last breath
noted
the time of death.

He had a name
but no one will
remember it,
and tomorrow
he will be
less than a blip
in the local obits.

She is a foreign delicacy,
delicious mind
I find
in lines of poetry.

A definite reality,
but I imagine she
scribbles out verses
veraciously,

places each of these
in this internet society,
exchanging altered perceptions
for artificial digital connections;

Full fruit flesh
rich with juicy wetness,
deep thoughts
of deliciousness
as I wonder
about the wonder
of such a creative being.

The plate is mine,
a porcelain palate
open to dine
on one delicate
verb at a time.

To dance and unwind
in the way the words
unroll themselves,
unthreaded yarn
ready to re-roll
and then unfold
once more.

I am a friendly
interloper
there
where
I go to explore
weird worlds
I have never seen before,

and this is
a rough draft
of gratitude
to that fact.

I see fragments.
I repair.
Make mistakes, and eat despair.

I crave freedom, I enslave,
I am as shallow as is my grave.

I learn and do and reproduce,
I give and take nothing in return.

I come from my fairy land,
To this ball of sea and sand.

It's a world that makes me sad,
That I wish I didn't understand.