Ripping paper tongued folded edges
Existing on the fringed heavily warped
Paranoia that has become my sanity
Where reality bleeds into itself like some ink spilt
On white walls leaking through cracks until there is nothing
Nothing but the sticky remnants of happy memories
Joyful music and the haunting echo of laughter

Staring back out the blank blind stare Friction
Static murmuring the fuzzy radio dial
Tuner sliding back and forth trying to connect the circuit but there is no wave length
Just the voided buzzing
The blipping of the lights behind the frame

Even your hands
Whom like a magnet seems to find the right channel
Some way to draw the breath back into the swinging classics
You bring the music back
But even you
My capitol Y
Could make the streaming black dotted fuz fade
Or the welling bend of hopeless panic
That locked inside my own hell recede

Calloused fingers in cascading waves of blonde
The touch of breath on stunted ear
Charlie Brown comfort croaking in shushed tones
Cut off
Equipment glitch like a seizure of the mind hemoraging the swelling force of tensed hands and screaming speech

Wishing to escape the madness
If I could, pray for peace

Dancing shadows played chase around the wooded pier
Flickering flamed tongues captured the cold
Swallowing in big burning gulps
Until they drew swords and called draw
Leaving a line of chilling wind at my back

Where early dew clung to the back of my faded denim shorts in the late summer night
Crowded as close as I could get to you
Without being seen as some child
Lost in the company of your friends

I had not told you
That had never done this before
Met my lovers closet
The bits of weirdness that every one has
What we call our closest friends

I had never meant much to anyone for them to share me
Really see who I was
And find that pleasing

You laughed paying me no mind
Pointing fingers into the crimson light watching the copper wire
Spout blue and purple hues

In some low income trailer park were the sounds of dogs and crickets met the ear
Watching some shady deal happen behind the next house over

I found it there for the first time
In such a long time
That I couldn't remember the feel of the emotion anymore.
Acceptance

That night when we parted I was no longer alone

Water falls the cascading rythm shadowing the back of my thought
As I watch the school tide flow
The lonely fountain bench becomes my muse
Where I exist outside of time
Staring into the listless movement of tree leaves
Stuck once more to the own cadence of thought
Echoing in the silent recess that has become my mood

While I cannot turn my eyes away
I am not really seeing
Not  feeling
Abstracting from reality
Pulling back away from the conscious buzzing back and forth between necessity
and possibility.
In my delirium I focus unexpectedly  
On one thing
The only thing sticking its green leaved beauty against the harsh brick facing
Tickling the crevices with its agelessness

A solid magnolia tree
Reaching for blooming glory
As if plucked out of some Georgian Southern tale
Ripe with the splendor of health
It seemed so out of place next to the young tree bushes that surrounded it
A solid reminder of lasting strength
I wondered

That should my roots become so in love with the ground they could not falter
Could I mimic this sleepy giant, whose solid trunk is gnarled with the abuse of centuries.
If I could let the wind of time and horror of burning pain pass me by?
Could I so love the sun that I reach with wide open arms to celebrate the dawning of a new day?
More over could I laugh at children as they attempt to climb my limbs, or read over the shoulder of some student who finds shade beneath my leaves.

Metaphor after metaphor meet my poets mind
I wonder about love and I wonder about time
I worry about school and take a deep breath
Deciding at once that there was nothing left
Nothing to worry nothing to cry
My emotions had run its course all in due time

And as I set waiting and thinking away I realized it was past noon
I had thought away the day
But all this time spent in my own head
I came to realize what the tree had truly said

Stop worrying
Stop thinking
And making yourself sick
Come what may
The only important thing is to persist.
Make living your goal, no fretting over something old.

My voice has receded
Dried up like some long forgotten fruit
Stinging in the ****
Tasteless monogamy
That is the day to day grind
       Plucking the plump paradox of petulant perturbed thoughtless beings
       From my conscious where they lie to the face of my muse
       Confuse me for someone whom cares about the humdrum
While I stray chasing rabbits playing hostess to a tea time of my own madness
Loosing the clock while fishing the fragrant mobs of ill minded twits
Whom twiddle their thumbs for enjoyment
Casting wide to find meaning, beneath the shallow face

No in my confusion
In my madness
I introvertly extrovert
Venting my frustrations behind the mask of my smile
Curling on the edges like some shark snagged toothed
Grinning that grin
That sets the tight line between insanity, and genuine
Where the fickle flock, preening their peacock feathers for attention
Infested with the vagrant lice of lesser men, itching to beat the weak with their superiority.

I watch the flicking flea ridden disease that is their affliction
Smiling that cheshire smile
Knowing that it is their own sickness
That will eat them from inside.

The muggy smog of early day
Greeted with its hazy lulling quiet
Making the tumult that was my thought flat line
Where this soft spoken neighborhood
Throw back housing and lazy barking furred tenants leveled back down from the clouded canopy where I float
Like a child on my back in still water
The ungelating  of the cosmos distracts me from reality
The ebbing harmony of self to world relation made a meditation blooming with the emptying of my own being
Where I stare bold eyes in reverent to stars

Looking at the heavens as if they held my heart
Had the power to both make me
And help define the limits of my being where I could not

Touch the place inside myself that I hide
From him, from her
The people I love most know not the secret self
That child whom worries and frets
Panics in its shell,
Stays like the placid lake
Unmoved stillness that meditative calm
Shaking the bars of my being until
The stillness turns rippling
Quaking the waving terror
Down the the drowning heart beneath the sea of calm
Choking on the need to stay silent

To regain composer and not be brought to the shore of reality
Where my being washed ashore
That secret self was laid bare
It's skin still raw from the air, salted with the shame of lost control

I become desperate to swim
To float
Get the grit and sand from beneath my toes
The nakedness unbearable
I cover myself with leaves
And turn away from the sun
Turn away from his light his warmth
It feels wrong to be so ****
He can see my body and I can claim apathy or moreover love
But to bare my soul
My secret self
Is a nakedness I cannot help but protest.

It's been quiet
The faucet dripping the echoing stillness
Of adverse mindset
Consumed by the withering sleeplessness that ails the student dragging dead feet strung out on dead wisdom
That is no longer implemented, applicable and moreover looked at as a crutch for those whom social status is less than hip
The area of mind confiscated by academics swells
Thudding the pulse drum rhythm of obsessive regurgitation
Were Kant spews forth followed by hinduistic dharma
Up chucking language theory
So is my disease so is my study

Where upon waking all I dream is to sleep
To get some **** rest away from all of the conflict messing processed dogma
But addictions have a way with coming back
And I'm all to experienced
A longtime loner
Swisher of ailments in the whiskey tumbler of existence
Fermenting on the brewing affliction that is life

I did a fine job this time
Mucking up my own thoughts spiraling me down
To the pitfalls of logic
Where I loose the poet
And attach the analytic mind straight to the brain
Forego the heart
Snip it like some bothersome string attached to my favorite shirt
But here is where I wake
And realize that though logic and rhetoric help the structure of the self
The spirit is starving behind those cold bars
Scared to come out lest it be cut once more
Violated like a child
Helpless to the mindless bumbling oafish screams of listless beings
Whom's only goal is to crush it
Maim it to something other that what it is
Taper it's wings
And stunt the flexing whiles of its witless abandon
Oh how it shone
That beautiful fluctuating penumbra of brilliance
That taps into the ether and brings forth light and wonder
Abandoning my skepticism at least for now I bathe in the glory of freedom I have unbound