Nolan Bucsis

Nolan Bucsis May 30

They tell me these mental disorders
Deteriorate
With age.
My broken psyche shattered on delusional possibilities,
Broken into asymmetric bits,
Of what was left of my personality.

I am all that remains,
Of Nolan Bucsis.
Jagged half thought out ideas
Controlled by someone else.

And,
Me, stuck in the vortex
Of what could have been.
Sailing into the banks of self abnegation
Run aground on
The ledge before the sundering out of the ego.

This is the austerity of self destruction
And the mundanity of a
Mid life crisis.

Every memory a horrible place,
A rotten deed,
With my-
Revulsion of the self,
With,
Destruction through the delirium of drugs.
Stochastic change.

And,
Self inflicted misery.

All that remains is the rubble.
The desolation of isolation.
Just trying to get up the motivation
To viciously criticize myself
In all my inadequacies.

Aghast-
Agape-
At the auto-didactic nature of automatic anaylsis.

But, I will run the ship of normalcy
Into the rocky shore
Of habitual neurotic persistence.

Nolan Bucsis May 30

Self Perception

I am awash
In self doubt.
Every, thought,
Frac/tured.
Half of me remembers
How bad things were,
Compared to now.
But I stopped
Growing past the burden
Of critical self analysis.

So,
I drown myself
In the apathy
Of I don't care,
Or I don't care,
as much.

I'm used to being a failure.

Nolan Bucsis May 29

The Faces of Murky Expanses

I am sublimated in the translation
Of dusk into dark.

Performing the rites of twilight
I lurch anointed in the contrast of a street light
Casting long dark shadows,
Across despoiled fallow land.

I burn with the sin of unknown
craggy
well hidden
things.

And,
I'm dancing the dance of corvids
My ****** of crows is a pack of ravens
Wisdom and Knowledge.

I am
Lost with the magpies
Sacrificing pigeons,
Omnivore.

I seek to know the nothing of the vacuum,
Guided by beasts of burdens,
Other obligations.

All things come to pass and ***** out sacred light
Out here in the tenuous void,
My resigned realm, nill and unbecoming,
Spirals into a vortex of decimation.

Here in the rotten rancid Grey Wastes,
Mystically medicated on mushrooms
I'm hallucinating evil wretched things,
Shrouded in the apprehension
Of a heroic dose,
But, then again I'm always somewhere else.

I'm always in another life,
Another engulfing misery,
Fantasizing dissolution into damnable abominable things,
Light oscillating subtle shadows out the corner of my eye,
The intrusive delusion
That something is
Out
There.

Out here in the eclipse of light.
Everything is shrouded in suspicion
And danger,
Even though it's tranquil territory
Most of the wayfarers
Are dangerous.

And,
Hell is dark.

And,
Hell is cold.

And,
Hell is empty in the glimmer
Of God's holy glow.

I will extinguish the light,
Collapse it into singularity-
Into a black hole.

The infernal portal
Where ego triumphed over spirit,
Pure matter,
I will enter into the gate
To a starless aeon.

I dwell in the eternal darkness of
Night.

And,
What is heaven but a snuffing out of light?

Nolan Bucsis May 29

Inconsistencies

The old ways of
Silence
Still appeal
To my simple sensibilities.

But I did that better then,
Than I do it now,
Even though less is more.

I'd rather work on elaboration.

Nolan Bucsis May 29

Wind Chill

Now adays.
The days.
Just blow away.

And, I'm left in hesitation.
Wondering what went.
Wrong.
Hoping I have enough time.
Left.
To do something more.
Than passing the time.

Nolan Bucsis May 29

Ancient Sentiment

No one writes me love poems.
Cause there's nothing much to love.
Nothing really here.
Nothing really of note.

Nolan Bucsis May 29

Doldrums

I want to scream through.
This excruciating boredom.
Maybe into a purpose.
More complex than.
How do I get through today.