Hey Brain

You again

Yeah...you ready to write now?

Nah

Seriously!?

Throw me a bone, I beg you I plead!
Don't make me grovel from down on my knees!
I want to write verses, stanzas, and rhymes
I want to write odes that span hundreds of lines!
You don't understand the depths I would go
if only you'd let my creativity flow
within me there's power of unfathomable wonder
I will rip apart planets, I'll tear universes asunder!
I want to dip my brush into the paint of my mind
and just go to town until my mind paint is dried.
Paint that will land on more than the canvas
the floor, ceiling and walls will be stained with this madness!

My mind is spinning with various hues
greens, reds, and yellows -- purples and blues
My heart's 'bout to beat right out of my chest
and trust me, dear brain, that'd be a magnificent mess
If I go too much longer, I may go insane
and start writing of kumquats who dance in the rain
with whom are they dancing out there in the rain?
Why, none other than the late Saddam al Hussein
and those kumquats are making Saddam a mite jealous
due to the fact that they have much better moustaches
And why do kumquats have moustaches you wonder?
I'm so glad you asked, 'cause they're from the Down Under
Yes those kumqats were Australian, but they're not long for that land
Tom Selleck just ate 'em.  Rhyme like Yoda, I can

See what you do, when you do this to me?
When the one thing you do is not a **** thing?

My apathetic brain, why must you sit here and fight
Put down your defenses, and
just.
let.
me.
WRITE.

Umm...you just...kinda did

Oh.  Thanks...I think.

*Whatever

Do you ever have
the strange sensation that a
ninja is watching?

There are days when it feels as if the world
is made of glass, and I'm dripping in oil.
Every slick surface reflects back a person
I don't want to see.
I must tread carefully at these times, for
if I'm careless, I will slip
and be shredded by the shattered earth

There are days when it feels as if you are
made of glass, and only I can console you.
I hold you tight, allowing you to
cut through me.
I must not grip too strongly, however...for
if I'm careless, you will shatter
and only shards of you will remain

There are days when it feels as if I am
made of glass, and you can see through me
You see my flaws, and accept me
for who I am
Still, I must be alert for there are
those who would throw stones
leaving you to pick up the pieces

There are days when the world is the world
and we are ourselves.
Those are the days of our lives
worth remembering.

Day Dreams want a mind
Don't think odd things
Like a memory of  memories
Look...I'm feeling hope

What an odd feeling it is
when you happen to look and see
an old and blurry photograph
and you think "How could this be me?"

How odd a feeling it is
when you think back to that day
the you from now wasn't yet then
then you was there to stay

Such an odd feeling it is
when you suddenly realize
that you would look as alien
as then you now looks in your eyes

You've grown and shifted
         your mind has sifted
out your childish ways

            Carefree thoughts
that simply cannot
           exist in your mind today

What an odd feeling it is
to look at that photo and say
who is that kid and however did
he end up here today?

Life is  an  amazingly  wonderful   maze,  when   you  t h i n k  about it.
You                                  start   at  the  entrance  n a i v e   and  unaware
of what lies within.         It's  easy to c h e a t in this maze, if  you choose
to walk the e d g e          until  you  get to the  end,  but h o n e s t l y it's
more exciting  just          to  j u m p right  in.  Sure,  you   may  run  into
dead ends                        every   once in awhile,  e v e r y o n e  has  their
dead ends, but it's           easy  for  you to  turn back around, r e t r a c e
your steps and go                             on.   At    times,   the   maze   makes
you   want  to  pull   your  hair        out,  but   for   the  most   part,  you
respect  the  challenge    that it        offers you.You begin to  r e a l i z e
that l i f e                                            isn't  about   finishing  the   m a z e          
it's  about        the path you take to get there. It's  about  The  t h i n g s
you do on       your way  there. It's about all  of the amazing  p e o p l e  
you  meet       while you're travelling.  I think people   forget   that quite
a   bit,   so       the next time you see someone racing through their maze
trying   as       hard as they can to reach the end, remind them that  they
are    only       doing  themselves  a  disservice.   Remind  them that  l i f e
is      what       make of it
                  **You

Sometimes when I hear about
the dreams of other people
I look at my own and think

I must be superficial.  In their
dreams there are winding paths
and reflections on still pools of water

There are subtle dew drops and
expansive fields of solitude.  They
speak of introspection and self growth

When I hear of the dreams of others,
I wonder what I can reflect on in
my own dreams and can think of
nothing

Then, when I'm depressed at
these thoughts that my mind
is playing against my will
I remember

I wrestled a shark.  how awesome is that?