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listen -
hear no sound, feel
only wind on its way, ghostly
nothings, but hush to sharp wings
of ocean birds so fraying as they cut
the sky, shuttle to fairways, far aways,
in plaintive cries, i hear what they say,
sailing into the jeweled skylights, but i
am only weight of air, still on ground,
i mumble out, sidle the bone tides
that roll to land, grains of clarity,
i am mist and tear, a world
of hollow, i am that sound -
of ocean in a shell.
“I could have done better” said the Schizophrenian Guy
"Seems no one valued the gorgeousness that dropped into my skin by the sky
No one care about the talent that destiny gave into my heart
Such a foolish judgment, to then I befriend the dark"

“I could have ended it well” his voice in a bit louder rhyme
"If only I’ve waited for the right and appropriate time
I could have written the greatest inspirational poem and story
But I let those evil, snatched that glory"

“My fate could be not like this my friend” in a smooth voice now
"Imprison my head in a box, letting seeds of darkness to grow
Blind and crippled are playing life with a courage
If only I’ve learned from them and did not act so stupid"

“I can’t change my fate now my dear co-poet” he said while eyeing at me
"Parking my pen too early when I did not get the applause  that I love to see
The last poetry that I’ve written was all about self harming and suicide
I wanted to change that with love and peace but now how can I"

“How I love to ask you to say goodbye for me to my dear ones
But that was foolish I know they won’t give you a slight chance
I’m done my friend it’s time, the light is calling” to then he stop talking
He started to walk away, left me with so much thinking

“What a journey!” I’ve said to my self
An encounter with schizophrenian ghost, really did rock my head’s bookshelf
Looking at my scar hidden in order not to be trace
Dreaming I can make an inspirational poetry someday…  but surely with a twist…


Written: September 17, 2014

Mysterious Aries
My Schizophrenia Poetry Story #17
Jabber Alexander Sep 2015
the withering connections
between me and you
grow as we no longer
see eye to eye
nor heart to heart
like a siamese pryed apart
our relationship consists
of conversations based in
remember whens
and if onlys
Jabber Alexander Sep 2015
As ancient ruins
get picked over with pick axes,
these detracted sites
show spite towards gods,
plus absurd signs in dirt,
with blurred lines distraught
and new plots not deserved
for fickle followers disturbed
by death scavenger dealings.

Instead of a sickle
it wields a shovel,
distorting the calm presence,
wrong bearings bring up
consequences long coming.
And these phantoms now creep
throughout ghost town dungeons.
Skulls and bones abound, cousins
and other kin found fundable.

Love becomes a couple
archeologists who unearth puzzles
pulling apart logic
no longer deductible,
so loan me your conscious
I'll connect it to old ones
we'll slowly dissolve into
improbable causes, duped.
Jabber Alexander Aug 2015
Trapped in a whirlpool by the same force that spins galaxies.

Foreseen futures through
scratched looking glass tragedies.

Gods move mice over icons on screens
flashing fashion scenes
Laws by has beens broken since
Macavity defied gravity,
tisk tisk,
the raw authority in my reality is risky
business
authored while the milky ways chalice leaks,
drip dripping...

...until it gets deeper into
black hole mystery
matching the cast of cats, no info,
can escape from it,
simply
no nymph wants to mate with me
stardust guts split,
they always run away from me
as if I was armed in armor wrapping
like a King, recent mummy
limping out the crypt sounding creepy
like steven king singing country.
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