Mentally dismantled
Spiritually a bundled
Cranium tasseled
Failed attainment
Craze by the crowds
Oh how I feel demised
Trained by the master
Hidden intellect
Chosen few has heard
Chosen few has experienced
Life changing words
Brain is so superb
Tongue twisters is a love spot for the genuis that is her
She is her
Her is me
Her is you
Her is us
Her is many
Many of the intellects
Many of the power holders
Many of the strong
Many of her

I’m told to let loose,
To let what loose?
“On the dance floor… on the dance floor,
let loose on the dance floor, Owen”

But… But…
To let loose is to lose;
to lose control.
Going “where the music leads”
is a new, scary place.

Everything must fit, must make sense;
Moving, swaying, ‘dancing,’ don’t.
What is there to gain
besides a common sense of…
awk
wardness?

“You’ll dance your way closer
to each other” (somehow).
But why grow closer in body?
Why not grow closer in mind?
Let us talk, dig beyond the surface.
“May I have this conversation?”

I’ll share my thoughts, my self,
and you’ll share yours.
So it will go, finding its own rhythm:
sometimes slow, methodical;
sometimes quick, passionate;
always common, enthralling.

Only then, with our intellects engaged,
engaged with each other’s,
can we truly dance:
the beautiful dance of the mind.

We often seek answers
To questions
Which should have never been asked
Ever since Eve ate the apple
The world has been
Afflicted
With whats seen as knowledge
And the curse of Pandoras box
Unleashed upon the world
A ravishing hunger
To capture questions
That as ignorant humans
We should never control
What we call intellect
Is an overzealous need for power
And we mistake knowledge
For answers to the mundane
Life would be so much simpler
If curiosity wained
And we never
Began asking unnecessary questions
In the first place

An idea comes to haunt
Where did it come from
Unaware of its existence
Lingering somewhere
When it entered the mind
Parallel thoughts
Maybe, was in your mind
Attracting the idea
Ideas seeking ideas
Intercepted by the intellect
Two entities combine
To form one idea
It’s in the mind
Which hovers within
One idea
That can make a difference

He was equipped with a fine vocabulary
Far in excess of his intellectual needs
An entertaining fool
Stocked with dictionaries
Obscure constructions
Medieval verbs
Circumlocutory, verbose
Impenetrable
A simple mind hid amongst
A confusion of entangled phrases
As if using a foreign language
Assembling hopefully meaningful phrases
Where a listener may find coherence
A simple message

Every request
Every Statement
Observation
From his mouth, no matter how mundane
Appeared decorated
Embellished, almost..
Baroque

In this wordy fog
It was hard to know
Hard to find
Traces of a real person
A tangible, relatable identity
Something predictable.
In the swirling wind of
Constantly shifting
Complex expressions
Seeming riddles.

He was a prisoner
A lifer
Doomed to remain
Incarcerated in his usage
Dense, cloying, exaggerated, unyielding
Usage
He could not avoid
Unconscious, reflexive, merciless
He did not struggle,
That ended long ago.

In depths of my unfathomable psyche
Submerged I find myself floating around in the ‘shallow’ societal sea of our world.
Oh but it is not ‘shallow’ you’ll see
It is a deep blue ocean that withholds great mystery;
& those who see it as ‘shallow’
Are only those who stand in clouds of constant oblivion; Ceasing the inhale of beauty, intellect, and individuality.
In the depths of my unfathomable psyche
Throughout every passing day
I observe, I listen, and I take into account the things that are done and said by every individual person I come across.
Now here I sit, in the complete abduction of the beautiful, yet merciless monster called insomnia, without fail of corse accompanied by her sister solitude;
& I reflect.
In the depths of my unfathomable psyche
I realize that in order to best express the realization of my reflection…
I must let my walls down; so I will.
And now that I have…
The word to describe the feeling that takes over ‘me’ in this very moment is one that acquires the ability to depict ones exact feelings in a way I do not obtain.
In the depths of my unfathomable psyche
I feel lonely because I know that the odds of me meeting someone as insane as me are slight; yet I feel appreciative because I couldn’t imagine possessing such an ugly, close minded, and indifferent insight.
I feel a type of sadness that could only emerge from a person that fears never getting to experience the comfort that comes from acceptance; yet i feel overwhelming excitement and longing in the midst of my hopeless romantic type daydream of the possibility that I will find my somebody that does not seek to comprehend or figure me out but will accept ever corner and color I currently am and everything I have yet to become
I feel pitty for the average;
Yes I am not sane
Yes I am not average
And yes the depths of my true thoughts I have not learned to control; but my insanity is and will always be the fuel to my potential.

Contentment is for people who are satisfied to stop thinking.
To turn off all those parts of your head
That constantly generate questions
And continuously probe the accepted.
To hush the cells jumping up and down
To show you a new way to approach a topic,
Begging you to acknowledge the incredible plans
That could be birthed from the impossible way
You see the ordinary.
But I have an obligation to my mind.
Yes, sometimes it feels more like shackles than duty,
And yes, sometimes I want to abandon my notepad and paper
On the bedside table to have a "me day"-
Whatever that's supposed to mean -
Or halt the carousel of whirling thoughts for a nap,
But I can't.
I will always be curious, at my roots.
I grow from the dedication to my thoughts, upward.
A tree straining towards the light of innovation.
Why would I forsake the places my thoughts can take me,
Or the adventures my pen can take in translating them.
For the gifts this head gives me,
I must always be on call, on edge, on fire.
Contentment: unattainable.
Even if it weren't it would interfere with the very process
That would allow me to derive what meaning lies in contentment.
So that's my secret.
The Hulk was always angry, which is how he controlled and dominated.
I'm always searching, which is how I find and thrive.
I can't drown out my thoughts just to soak up the sun.
That's not contentment: that's complacency.
And complacency is not in my vocabulary.
How funny-
I am content with losing that one word
For the chance to be brilliant.