John Reilly Sep 2017
Out of sorts
At least I am out
New sort of me
In a new part of town
While the same old doubts
Whip about
None of this was here before
Not that I knew of
It certainly did not
Spring forth
Out of the blue
It just feels that way
Unplanned
Yet inevitable
Steel and glass monoliths
Shatter and break
The tarmac
What was
Once a barren streetscape
Neglected opportunity
Now is a grand opening
From desolate
To prescient
A megalopolis
Of mindfulness
That reflects back
The question
What do you want
These vessels
To be
Window dressings
All this
Brand newness
An exercise
Is not an exorcism
Just
A rebranding
Of emptiness
John Reilly Aug 2017
The road itself
Had not changed
But the median
That devided  it
Had shifted
And what had once
Been the center
Brightly defined
Is now
A pair
Of black
Parallel lines
Reflective
Visible
a strange
Redaction
Why was I drawn
to this
I circled around
Ride back
Try to guide the bike
Between the lines
And picture
Quite literally
What it means
This new
absence
A shift of what
Once had been
Taken for granted
Is it just me
My life
Ghost  road
Ghost ride
From allegory
To zeitgeist
I am your
Poster child
A guy with
Parkinson's
Riding
No hands
Trying to take
A picture
With my iphone
Pondering
meaning
In the middle of
the ******* road
John Reilly Aug 2017
Follow the colored lines
down the corridors
one by one
they diverge
abrupt right angles
a sharp turn
into acute psychiatry
a long gentle curve
into imagery
we've seen before
we've been here before
this time is different
and the same
old places
and brand new
parallel worlds
perpendicular paths
follow the lines
of this
Kafkaesque
supercollider
hurtling us down the halls
through the partitions
particles collide
and time stands still
which path do we follow
to bring us back
to the beginning
a whole universe
of possibilities
sad depression hospital mental health  anxiety emotion hope catharsis
John Reilly Aug 2017
The coffee here
or something that passes for coffee
sort of coffee
but watered down
weak
tasteless
benign
unstimulating
that's the best word for it
I guess that's it in a nutshell
where I am
waterdown
unstimulated
some approximation of
me
John Reilly Aug 2017
I am not in Kansas anymore
That much I'm ******* sure of
I'm trying to follow the road
But it seems to lead nowhere
If I walk it long enough
Diligently pace myself
The path should unfold
But I'm tired
And cramping
And there is no wizard
Or witch
Just me
Scarecrow
Tin man
Lion
John Reilly Aug 2017
I've always found puzzles
Exactly that
Puzzling
It seemed to me
An exercise in futility
Put the pieces together
From this jumbled chaos
So it looks like the orderly picture
On the box
Hardly puzzling
The answer
is right in front of you
The puzzles here
Are worn
And weary
They have been assembled
And broken down
Over and over
Again and again
The cracks and
Worn edges
Interrupt their picture
Some are missing pieces
They will never look
Like the picture on the box
Others are mostly assembled
Left here
Waiting
For someone to finish then
Some have no box at all
No way to contain them
No picture to show them
What they should look like
John Reilly Aug 2017
Words
Are powerful
They teach us
Yes
And no
Love
And hate
They shape us
From the outside
With what we say
And from the inside
With what we think
They can erode us away
And build us up
Bind
Or break
Us
A beginning
Or an end
Ultimately
Starts with
U
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