My presence perplexes me.

I wonder

Is it a good thing for me to be around?


I want to become worldly,

but awareness scares me,

yet I can’t stop my mind from wandering.


I don’t know much

about this world,

but my self stands

as the greatest unknown.


When I change, I whimper

and cry and scream beneath the shadow

of my new traits.


Losing control

This manic relapse always returns.


I roar!

Scaring those that are nearby.


I worry

I’ll be locked away in a zoo.

The pitter-patter of rain sends a shiver of realization down my spine,

When it rains the voice of mankind radiates stronger inside dwellings,

Humans focus on menial tasks, laugh, and love,

They sit around trading stories back and forth,

shuffling their feet and twiddling their thumbs.


As humans sit in a room on a rainy day,

they realize truths about the world that are mind-blowing,

As I sit in this library only an observer,

mankind flourishes as a wonderful species of mammals,

leaving me breathless like the rain.

The rain pours down as I think of those who surround me;

it strokes my face in a random precision.


The chatter of my friends the room over

have an ebb and flow like that of long hair.


They splash around in puddles of murk

as they smile, hoot, and smirk.


The emotion of the human race

makes my face raise and crease.


Mans astounds me as I gasp.

My friends unite and play

and each other they clasp.


I cannot see how humans can cause pain,

they just leave me breathless like the rain.

Recognition struck me dead in the face.

A blast from the super soaker of fear,

drenching me with surprise as I wobbled near.


Red-faced,

pacing around the room,

their applause sent my emotions straight to doom.



But later

I reflected

on what I did that made me respected.


Then I realized

I deserve

their feeling that my talent is prodigious and absurd.


Josh Dublin

Until today my mind was hidden like Pandora’s box

in a drawer in the darkest prison cell

of the asylum in which I was raised.

Under a cold blanket of immaturity, I was shadowed

from the truth and discovery I now appreciate.


At first I wiggled like an egg in its primordial stages of development.

I saw my first glimpse of the beautiful, bright light in this world.

I grew slightly excited,

but still remained,

filled with the immature qualities

of a boy.


With time,

came a conscious awareness

of my place in the womb of my universe.

and a moderate literary love of life.



Recently I broke free from the then loose chains of my past.

I just opened up and shattered the cocoon I’ve been hiding in

and saw the intricate world for the first time.

The world I had only before read about,

the world I always knew was there.


Just a second ago,

beautiful and majestic wings blossomed from the sides of my developing arms,

reaching all the way

covering the sides of the bed on which I still sit.


I now spring off the bed with the determination of a robust gust of wind.

I fling open my window

with the force of a supernova in the seemingly placid night sky.



I will fly.

Fly anywhere any human of my potential has ever flown before.

Swooping down to the slums of the insecurity of my friends

and as high as the atmosphere reaches

with acute understanding of the laws that nature abides by.


I will gallop through the earthly wonder that surrounds me

and find everything that is worth doing and all the people worth loving.

The tree branches sway back and forth in freedom,

teasing and taunting me while I lie in my own self-pity.

This eternal thirst I have cannot be quenched.


A pole’s flag violently swaying in a hurricane

as it bends and hurls,

sick with despair,


I snap out of my thoughts and emit a sigh, a moan;

which it is

a mystery

I’ll never solve.


I cannot tell if I am frowning or weeping,

my heartbeat picks up, I bite my nails.


This disease is a spiritual presence,

haunting all those who have it.


I lie awake and think of them:

the ones that I admire and can comprehend.

Us poets, compare one thing to another,

but we ourselves are truly the hardest to understand.

We humans announce the term “forever”

as if we understand the immense weight of the word.

But us ignorant ones have only existed

in a blink of the eye in the cosmic spectrum.




Time flies by as we live our daily lives.

We assume that we have an accurate concept of time,

but our perspective of time is just by our solar system.

The only natural clock of our existence.



And the solar system is but one of

the single pieces of sand on the beach of unknown.

Forever stands as an inappropriate word.

The only thing that I know will last forever


is our ignorance.