The average person knows between 20,000 and 30,000 words.
~ and for Senor CG~
<>

infinite then the multiplicity of combinations,
and yet we use so few,
and the comforting ones,
we repeat unconsciously
for they apparently applicable
to the boo/hoo/who in Who Me?

messing about in poetry,
an excuse to betray ourselves
to a greater audience with
hints and provenances,
secret’s subtle
could mean
trouble

I have revealed more than
I could believe ~
not the drabfactoids
but the insights

that flesh my self~sketches,
you could ask me anything,
my answer simple and
insane~same!

if you explicitly explain
there is no fun in that,
but the clues writ large,
answering questions you
didn’t know to ask

plenty to hide, some too
well disguised

but the hints are clear enough,
to make sure you’re
asking the correct ones
so,
sorry apology
Senor Carlo
the doorknob to my spotlight clearly
visible
in the portrait of my preposterous
multi~nefarious words

no great reveal
no screaming squeal
for you to decrypt

still requires an
inning of
excavation digging,
for it’s in the over thousands of
psalms and prayers
and a few layabout
poems
who/hoo,
too*
(wink)

I always forget to remember lessons from the last failure, therefore I'm forever havin' to start all over, my own personal torcher chamber
It creates this culture of fear that I can't get over, the chip on my shoulder staked on the bolder that's already there
A taunting whisper on loop saying it'll never get better, cursed with bad days, one after another
Try to fudge the numbers, facts don't lie but memories blur, every passing day recollection gets harder
I had this thought in the shower, your heart beat is just a countdown to your last breath and death is just a new beginning to forever
Should I still follow my dreams if it's a recurring nightmare? Only the loser says the other didn't fight fare
Only the winner gets their name in the paper unless it's a smear campaign so staying out of the conversation is safer
Where's the line between assassination and ******? And what's the difference between an unwanted guest and intruder?
Does a lamb know about the slaughter? Does the hand know it can take a life without being given an order?
Which is shorter I wonder, the path to greatness or to a personality disorder, my dark passengers a backseat driver
So it's all in how you frame the picture, have a nice day sounds less threatening than enjoy your next 24
Who decides what will occur? How much more can I endure? Roll the dice and hope they don't shatter
Matter of fact I pray for just enough to make it to the next day not knowing there's no listener
God ain't there and if he is he doesn't care or doesn't know the answer either
Either that or he to has given up on this fallen soldier all together, abandoned by my supposed creator
I don't make an hourly wage, I sell chunks of my life for pennies on the dollar
Some one, somewhere is listening to the last song they'll ever hear
Could be me, right now, right here, no way to tell till after then it's to late to alter
Masking anxiety with witty banter, no alter ego just another dark passenger, this time he's riding shotgun like one in the chamber
One personality is hard enough to keep front and center, take one down but there's always another, I am just fodder
The split is wether to move forward or quit all together, don't know which is better
Tried divide and conquer, another failure, tried to find a new harbour but couldn't pull the anchor

Got control of my anger just to immediately lose the battle, instantly falling outta the saddle
I thought I wasn't supposed to get more than I could handle, I guess that's just another cryptic riddle
Starting to feel old testament biblical, the punishment for mistakes are astronomical no matter how miniscule
Almost feels personal, maybe I'm part of some sadistic ritual, forced to be a part of it, no consent, held against my will
Little did I know I could walk away and be okay still, no one told me the rules making every move futile
Trying a different approach, going vocal, begging for mercy in vain but hopeful
An ineffectual campaign, the struggle was always inevitable, my thoughts not believable
Not even a credible witness to my own life, how is this even possible?
Well, cranial damage is plausible due to hitting every obstacle head on, brain almost falling out of my skull
Life is the train light at the end of the tunnel while I'm mid tunnel on a stationary bicycle
Rock bottom was the pinnacle of my life, cynical doesn't even begin to describe what drives my mental
Keep it all in to avoid the hospital, trapped lightning in a bottle but couldn't get a grip on its broke handle
Already sold my soul, not to the devil but to the people and the return on my investment was far from equal
The colossal difference was they got the best of me and I was left an empty shell
Tried to fill it but it now looks like a landfill, a trash receptacle, the overflow of garbage unavoidable
Completely full of hurt and pain, I pray there's no sequel but I just saw the preview commercial so I guess it's ******* official
But even before dress rehearsal I took myself out of the circle knowing it wouldn't be merciful, devouring me whole
Besides, the demon inside stole the show and convinced me I was evil and deserve to not go any further than my current window
I accepted it cause it's all I know, brittle and fragile, will I made it to another day? Doubtful, the outcome predictable
If written out the how come would be longer than the bible so just take my word for it so you're not liable
Life itself is my rival, and now spiteful has replaced delightful and forced the downward spiral
The life or death questions I scream at the sky come nightfall are being treated as rhetorical
And there's no capable Oracle these days so I'm on my own to wrestle this powerful, never ending dose of trouble
Stepped out of my comfortable bubble once before and it was brutal
Promised myself never again but it's not that simple, every attempt pitiful

Wish me luck

©2022

Maniacal laughter deployed to be louder than the roar of any monster

Most notably the inner

It gets harder and harder to adjust from loser to winner when just a beginner

Sold a bad bill of goods, nothing gets easier when older

I reside in my own temple but can't shake this feeling of being a squatter

Labeled by life as nothing more than NPC fodder

Never been...never seen a main character

In essence, I'm just practice for a dark passenger that always comes out of nowhere

Far scarier than the for mentioned inner monster but they conspire together

I am not now nor have I ever been a shot caller, never given a reason for no offer

Rather, I've been assigned a standard issue shock collar

Always trying to silence the hollar

Why bother?

Stay inline or find the hypocrisy of anarchy and counterculture

Tried bein' louder than ever before, pullin' from somewhere deep in my core

There's no one with a willing ear prepared to listen so no answer

Preforming to an empty chair reserved for anyone who might actually care

It's been empty for as far back as I've been allowed to remember

So I just stand there, wondering what's the matter, what is matter, do I matter?

A pitiful stature of a habitual quitter being quit on over and over

Want to know where I learned it? Just look over my shoulder in a family picture

This is a learned behavior taught by an unqualified teacher, both mother and father

Scream into the ether, I'm a dreamer but this nightmare ain't from a fever

There's no relief either

Not even first chair in the orchestra playing behind the dumpster fire of my own one man disaster picture

A head scratcher to any outsider, just another blunder to anyone who's ever been there

Next time'll turn out to be better

I swear

I'm a lier

We prefer the lie, at first it's far easier

A few too many attempts to hide the pressure, broke the regulator and boiled over

My present back lit by that there **** dumpster fire I explained earlier

My past rages unchecked through my future

A failure by every measure

No answer to why bother

...real quick...

This is off topic
But please don't let me become my father

...anyway...

Cover mistakes faster with lead paint over plaster

Pay no mind to the cancer that comes after

Dangle from a rafter like a fleshy chandelier

You don't have to guess what happened here

The dossier of the crime scene is crystal clear

You couldn't not get the picture

Even if the veil is never lifted, ignorance a problematic but gifted blinder

Gotta know I would never go and drag myself across the floor before arising once more just to lay on an altar

This has been nothing more than my dark passenger being front and center

How could I know letting it steer would lead to a full takeover of more than the arm and shoulder?

Will this ever be over?

Excuse me, is there someone there?

Has there ever been anyone other than me here for that matter?

Hello??

©2023

Newbie to this lathe
Don't wince at expositions
See lame gits as dust