Salem Noxolo Aug 2
Standardized structure seems to wrangle my head,
And I wake up each night with a sour taste in my mouth from all the lemons I've licked in my life.
Zen.
Peace.
Love is an emotional felt by those who love.
Hate is irrational fear.
My hair will tangle into the shape of my counting sheeps while I dream.
And my head will beam into a lantern amoung the silence of the night.
And my incoherent lyrics will tangle like my midnight hair into daffodils of daydreams.
And perhaps those daffodil trees may grow and break their roots while they too dream their dreams that float to the surface, resting with the momentary fractures in memory and river lilies.
And the river lilies with simply send their condolences to the dreamers who can't embrace freedom.
Today,
A young man was digging in the trash
Next to an Art Gallery
Here in Denver.
I didn't really think
That there was anything of value in that trash can.
So, I interrupted him by saying,
"Sir,"
"Would you like a bar."
I had a few of those Bearded Brothers Bars in my backpack.
He appreciated getting interrupted
From his fruitless search
And gladly took two Bearded Brothers Bars.
Then,
He asked me for water.
Well, I have a very wide mouth water bottle,
And he just had an empty bottle of purchased water.
So,
I didn't think it would be easy from me to pour water
From my bottle to his bottle
Without a funnel.
I gave him my change,
And instructed him to get some fresh water
At a gas station instead.
Then,
He started talking
And it was all a "word salad".
He didn't make any sense at all,
And I excused myself to go buy some lunch at Parsley
Nearby.
As a person with a psychiatric myself,
Let me tell you
That no one can tell you how to cope
In this crazy world.
When you see someone who can't use his or her mind,
You realize
That your "sins" are infinitesimal.
So,
Maybe,
I'm  spend a bit too much money
On good quality Chinese Food.
Yes,
I really like to look at
Well-Focused  nude photos
Of beautiful women.
I probably spend too much money
On houseplants
And give too many of them away.
None of these
"Excesses"
Amount to the catastrophe  
Of being helplessly incoherent
Out there on the streets.
This Right Wing Conservative Agenda
Of people like President Donald Trump
Doesn't just deprive agencies that serve people with psychiatric disorders of funding.
It also represents  false sense of values.
We need to help everyone to THRIVE.
So, a President who is NOT thriving cognitively himself
Really is in no position
To preach a Gospel of
"Self-Sufficiency"
And side with the Religious Right
On all issues pertaining to sexuality,
Telling women what to do with their bodies.
However,
If President Donald Trump
Was admitted to an Inpatient Psychiatric Ward,
He would give the therapists and psychiatrist
A lot of work!
He would not be rapidly let back out on the streets
Until the staff was sure that he could function
On his own in Society.
If he wasn't so rich,
I guarantee you that Donald Trump
Would be digging in a Trash Can
That has nothing of value in it
Just like the fellow
I helped today.
"its as if the taste never leaves my open mouth"
"that kiss only coming about because leaping into your body was easier than crawling"
"and the need to breathe was so strong"
"with the mint smoke that rose into the sky surrounding and smothering"
"lips/neck/teeth/tongue"
"everything the eyes could swallow without fear of choking"
"because feeling complete was more important that simply living in distant agony."
            
                
                                            ---------- "Excuses"---------
Aniseed Jul 2017
The door in my mind
Has been locked for a very long time;
Probably from the smoke drifting
From the alter I've built to my misgivings

There are tally marks on my stomach
Counting how many times I just stopped
Caring,
And I feel my chest turn to stone
With every breath.

Sometimes I wonder what the fear
Of a storm at sea feels like,
And if it's anything similar
To the paralysis I feel when
Someone is screaming.

There are days when I wish
I could speak in color.

When a shiver goes down my spine,
I wonder what you're saying about
Me.

Maybe life was just an accident God made
When playing with dolls

Sometimes I wish everything made sense,
And that my mind wasn't so faceted
And tangled like string
But maybe Everything is a jigsaw puzzle
With missing pieces.

Maybe we're not supposed to understand.

Or maybe there's not anything we're supposed
To do.
Maybe life is screaming and color and a storm
At sea.

Maybe God is still playing with dolls.
Incoherent rambling.
Ginelle Jul 2016
the words you left me with
left me feeling drunk
i couldn't grasp the concept of you leaving me
in my incoherent dreams
i got drunk over, and over again
just to hear the message you left;
*"i love you"
i can't handle this alone. it's worse without you
Dominic Bronwen Nov 2015
i have so many words swarming beneath my skin
they threaten to break through
they threaten to scream
i feel lost
they threaten to sing, to whisper, to sigh and laugh and breathe
they are loud, incomprehensible
they remind me of you
you and your shining eyes and the ideals you wear as armor
and your bright hair and your quick quick smile
i feel lost
these words and i
we are lost in a forest in my chest, the bird caged within me
beating against the trees
these words yearn to be written, they yearn to be read
they yearn to exist and to live and to thrive and to grow
these words are not mine
they scream for you
you are larger than life, and i
i feel lost

-- d.b.
i am called to scream.
Aniseed Jul 2015
Words of deep love and longing
Are lost on me, today.
I've no whimsy to feed my prose,
No form of coherency in my head.

I'll write for the sake of writing.

Rustling trees swelled with song birds
Are mere echoes of a life outside
To me.
I feel like I'm suspended in zero gravity -
My face tingles,
My head is sluggish
Like a hangover without the nausea.

We've got potholes in our hearts
And the construction's lasted for months
So we just fill them all with sand and
Call it a day.
Integrated into a system
That's forgotten the welfare
Of the human soul.

There's a trickle of sunlight
And it's getting warmer.
Summer's blossoming and
I can't stand it.
The beautiful solace of winter
Melts away with my silence,
While summer months boil blood
And chaos chokes the air.

These words I write are read
Aloud in tremulous whispers -
The only proof that they're real.
Recited every night
When I lay my head down
And wonder about the difference
Between what is evil
And what is just a misled notion
Of Righteousness.

And everything else in between.
Sometimes I just wake up so ungodly early.
Jesse Dean Ruark Mar 2015
A vast valley of empty noise.
Muffled screams ambient like static.
Dodging cunning plans and ploys.
As each friend intends to wreak havoc.
I set aflame in rage and shame.
Smoke signals soar high from my side.
As I try to decide what is wise.
Incontinence of the lips disguised as clever banter.
Hollow thoughts reveal themselves and foggy eyes gleam far and wide.
I'll have a drink of endless size.
"I'd rather be anywhere, or anything" I say whilst reaching for a decanter.
Amber Oct 2014
-
I'll curl up and write
As an escape from this mess
And you;
Under the setting sun
And the glowing moon.

I'll tell lies
But only to myself
Because you, you should be spared
From the moment when my sanity snaps.

I'll think of you
Grasping at the straws of love
And you fell- oh how beautifully you fell!
Into another's arms, held away from mine.

I'll leave you
In his arms, in his shelter,
Because I've always been good at clean breaks,
I'll even clean up the ashes.
Incoherent.
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