I observe and record
The undeserved discord
Implored
By dim bores
While indoors
Sins are born
I was warned
But I formed
A sin scorn
Once forlorn
In the storm

The abhorrent
Sent a torrent
Of torment
To the dormant
Informant
That went through my mind
To become realigned
Into something that rhymed
To take up my time

The extension
Of the tension
Met the unmentioned
Intention
Of detention
By hedonism
To see the schism
That reads like a prison
And bleeds with the rhythm
Of a needle's incision

The exclusion
Of my collusion
With my delusion
From night's illusions
Ended their nuisance
By taking a new stance
Of a mute dance
Of loose chance

This war I wage
By turning the page
Has me burning with rage
Learning this cage
Is churning my craze
Yearning to age
To master this maze

This paper cut
Safer hut
Replaced my rut
Graced by trust
On pace for bust
I trace my fuss
To place a plus
On this race to dust

Surprising lane
Transcribing pain
Describing shame
Arriving like rain
Inside of my brain
Extinguishing the flames
With a grammar game
Of a semantic strain
Making my refrain
A poetic plane
That acts as a cane
Instead of a crutch
Removing the mundane
That's why I love it so much

the candle flickering
on the shelf
makes invisible winds
invisible smells
which i breathe in
and then breathe out
all while thinking
about myself
and the sorrows that i bring

She lays down
in bed-sheets red and retreats into her mind
agonizing over answers to questions,
answers she will never find.
This isn’t the first time.

The sun and the moon waltz through the skies
watched through clouded eyes
the pair reminds her how alone she feels inside,
the disconnect that’s in her mind.
It won’t be the last time.

The wind batters her with rain
she is tired, broken… ashamed.
She doesn’t know your name and you don’t know hers,
it’s time for that to change. Loneliness is the bastion of the mind,
don’t look for answers you will never find.

like a flower in a high place,
i cannot help but gaze upon
the beauty prospering adverse
to callous wind and granite stone;

one day i will watch you fall grace-
fully, petals aflutter, and mourn
the absence your passing creates:
a world less beautiful and rare.

Here in the hustle and bustle of the world
I cannot locate my poetic muse
He has run off elsewhere like the child I am, too
But I MUST find him, now!

Quickly, he couldn't have gone far
In his paranoia and anger
Mister, have you seen him? Ma'am, have you?
Surely you could give me just a little clue?

And the orchestra of my mind roars so loud
And the music covers my brain like a cloud
So many nooks and crannies to crawl in
But this searching battle is something I MUST win!
Cause if I lose my muse
Who am I?
Who is Ellison, then?
If his mental bells ring so loud like Big Ben!

I'm blinded, deafened
By the hustle and bustle of the world
And you, the reader, will be the first to know
If I found my muse stranded in blackened snow.