Bound in blessings with the Left -
                 Brother Left!
Joined in patriotic love of country - fellow man!
        How we quarrel, quarrel, quarrel,
In pursuit of governing!
        Stars and stripes define our kinship,
Coupled by our common heirship
Providential comforting;
           Striving on, on, on,
         In the stately pantheon,
And respectful competition of opinions coalesced
       From the Left, Left, Left, Left,
               Left, Left, Left -
  From the striving and reviving of the Left.


        Hear the agitating Left,
                 Fearful Left!
Having aspirations of equality expressed!
        Notions quite inferior -
        Vaunting ours - superior!
From the birth of modern man
    The crown is ours.
God-anointed master plan
  Grants the bounty to the chosen ruling clan -
   Avatars!
           Rightful is our point of view!
Such a farce to claim equivalence in detinue!
   How undue!
   How untrue!
           Parity!?! They misconstrue!
Toleration? We eschew -
         And the thieving, and deceiving
           Of the Left, Left, Left,
         Of the Left, Left, Left, Left,
               Left, Left, Left -
  To the squeaking and the shrieking of the Left!


         Hear the loud and loathsome Left -
                 Traitor Left!
Behold their filthy claims of equity expressed!  
       Speaking for their people now,
       In a gruesome, ghastly growl!
Bellowing their heresies,
From their foul vicinities,
                  Blasphemies!
All the voices tell me that the Left is savage and insane,
All the faces sell me feelings of derision and disdain,
           Ceaseless refrain, refrain, refrain,
            Feed the chorus to sustain
That which makes me feel exceptional,
Castigating as contemptible,
      Anyone with views apart from mine.
            Oh, the Left, Left! Left!
Inhumane and demonized,
      Reviled!
How they dream, and scream, and scheme!
       How could anyone oppose
Righteous, pure and godly promulgated truth?
       Yet the chosen few persist,
Through the gnashing,
And the thrashing,
      ‘Owning Libs’ is sacrosanct;
Even though the mirror shows,
       The heaving,
And the seething.
       And the cowardice repeating,
Of the spinelessness - projected on the Left—
             On the Left—
     On the Left, Left, Left, Left,
            Left, Left, Left—
In the droning and the groaning of the Left!


          Hear the venom of the Left -
                 Evil Left!
Claiming equity of those awash in melanin!
Fetid fiends of arrogance,
Threatening our dominance,
       Damaging hegemony,
      Weakening supremacy,
Of the righteous, rightful heirs of kingdom come!
The heresies that they espouse,
      Causes panic to arouse;
     Evilness!          
    Oh! These wicked, loathsome creatures,
       WIth disgusting, grotesque features;
                 Vileness!
        And their preaching, preaching, preaching,
          In their pitched and putrid screeching,
Mutual inclusion teaching!        
          Oh, what awful, wretched swine!
     Having sold their own humanity
     For prolonged insanity!  
              The fools!
        Look at them! It’s not us, not me!
        Can’t you see? See!?! See!!!
                    SEE!
             Paranoia on the Left!
         How delusional they are,
             Maniacal are the Left!
          Spying on my ev’ry move!
          Telling lies, lies, lies!
          Being kind is for the week!,
             Tell that to the dreadful Left—
               The wretched Left -
          Telling lies, lies, lies!
          Selfishness in virtue!
            Hear the throbbing of the Left -
          Of the Left, Left, Left -
            Hear the sobbing of the Left;
          Telling lies, lies, lies,
            And they creep, creep, creep,
          Spying on me as I sleep!
            Oh! The mania of the Left -
          Of the Left, Left, Left -
            The hysteria of the Left,
      Of the Left, Left, Left, Left -
              Left, Left, Left -
  And the moaning and the foaming of the Left.

Life’s time is slipping away before me
like clouds torn by storm‑wind in the far sky—
too fast to grasp,
too fast to shape,
too fast even to name.

I’ve lost my sense of time all at once.
Forgotten sleep.
Living like a sin—
wide awake, mostly,
yet unaware of what I’ve done inside those.

Life has become a movie on a screen:
uncontrollable in its own scripted pace,
distant, detached,
dead and different.
I sit there
watching it unravel before my eyes,
a corpse as a audience.

It’s a feeling of unease I can’t quite place.
An emotion without a name.
Something between madness and mystery,
something between surviving and collapse.

Perhaps it’s myself I’ve never faced,
or my own life I’ve never met.

Two decades I have lived,
perhaps two more I will.
I remember days that felt like weeks;
now the same sun, the same moon
feel like a split shift.

No—nothing good has happened.
Perhaps I lost perception.
Perhaps I lost my mind.

I wonder if I’m going to die soon.
Not afraid of death—
it would be the best present
life could give.

But I don’t want to die like this:
spending my tears naming every misery,
unable to name my final days;
losing myself
before I lose my life.

curse the summer breeze,
despise the winter's harsh laugh,
this insanity is in every season,
the more I write, this invasive ****,
like the strongest tallest bamboo sticking,
drafts me again and again into the army
of just one more, and for every one I release,
a dozen more inventions, incensed interventions,
come asking, pleading, needy whining, but
for themselves only, not for me,
provide,
do not deny
them their own
new perspective,
an original fabulation,
and I remind them
of Balanchine's wit,
"there are only new combinations,"

and my mental thresher~combine,
explodes that numbered field,
of semi~scripted, planted
yet to be finished,
it only grows larger,
but not higher,
perhaps, sadly thinking,
but not better,

while my sighs of tired only grows louder…as my-race against  time, only shorter, the rat on the spinning wheel....
                                                       ­                                                    nml

Because depression lasts,
love isn't depression.
And neither is life - although
they may codepend - (
that's irony) -
and neither
is insanity.

Depression will make you do
The last thing you do.
Love, the first. Life, just the rider,
We the vessel. We are the vessel of life
And depression will dump us out. Love
Is our ultimatum, our insanity.

Remove the shell and make it raw life,
Raw water.

these metal chains around my wrists
must make me seem insane
the things I let go of
have blood on them and scratches engraved

but I swear I am holy.
I pray night and day.
anchors hold me when I go feral again.

They gave me these feathers
told me to write something sweet.
my words are the only source of warmth
I‘ll ever feel.

But I miss being held tightly
although I can‘t recall I ever was.
still I mourn closeness so deeply
as if it was something I lost.

they preach that it‘s time
that allegedly heals you
but it just feels pretentious,
they don’t know what I‘ve been through.

letters, poems, novels and sonnets
a million pages in cursive
a million of them haunt me

Today is filled with an unusual stillness,
With nary a breath of wind.
Perhaps now is a good time to rest.

I have solitude in my mind.
Today’s stillness has taken over
My entire being.
Thoughts vanish in an instant.

I sit here perfectly stock-still.
My immediate world
seems to be halted.

Please, let something move.
Everything feels so calm and placid.
I don’t want to feel lifeless.

Such extreme stillness,
Bordering on the edge of madness,
Am I slipping into insanity?

Will I pull myself out of
The periphery of lunacy
To step back into this
Mad, mad, mad world?

This didn’t happen overnight,
pushed all boundaries out of sight.
Don’t know their next step but it can’t be right.
Their grubby hands covering your eyes,
wicked tongues whispering blatant lies.
No confirmation for their alibis.

If a group of like minded people
can storm the Capital why not a steeple?
A sanctuary that’s built for predators.
For those who stormed Capitol Hill
why can’t they now go in for the ****?
Maybe too busy running from creditors.
I’m just so annoyed with the American void.

So many questions all over a vote;
they tried to mutiny like on a boat,
but now not asking why there’s no note.
With all those riots that were in the street,
willing to take a bullet or join the line to be beat,
no asking why someone special got an extra sheet.

If a group of like minded people
can defeat police then why not the bald eagle?
Just another symbol for freedom and justice’s joke.
For those who stormed Capitol Hill
does it not drive you crazy to now stay still?
Maybe too distracted by the war of Pepsi vs Coke.
I’m just so annoyed with the American Void.

If people can go missing why can’t files,
same with pedophiles and certain isles?
It’s funny how they gave away,
the ones we already knew what they’d say.
If people can go missing why can’t files,
same with pedophiles and their trials.
It’s funny how they gave away,
the records of JF & ML K.

Apparently there’s a minute missing every night
I guess we know when the time to strike is right.

my soul is melting
burning away like a candle wick
crumbling like chalk

i read the words on a page
heart starting to race
"paranoia"

each person is evil
i tell myself
they have motives
that i don't know

the unconscious
leads my brain
driven by the id
about to break.