some birds recently died of a smog overdose
this is not a big deal but activists are raging
last night they destroyed the lion's cage in the zoo
the lions ate all of them but they died with a certainty:

"we stood against the psychological torture of animals"
when the activists took their last breath, fulfilled
as their arms and legs were bitten off, they sobbed,
deeply concerned if the lions could digest human flesh

unselfish souls, good-hearted people; their families miss them
now they are waiting in front of netherworld's entrance
memories are rolling over their retinals, they are scared
fear is flickering, the activists are looking at gigantic doors

did they really do the right thing? dying as early?
when things have become unchangeable, doubt is arising
doubting is one of the cruelest acts of thinking and feeling
doubting leads to an idealization of the self; mirror-addiction

to kiss a shark is dangerous but some doubts will **** you
we may think that we control them – they dominate us
the mobiles of the activists are switched off
relatives and partners are trying to reach them

zoo visitors hear a ringtone coming from the lions
later on, the zookeeper finds an iphone in their feces
but the activists are fine, they died for a purpose
their funerals will be events of glorification

nobody will speak badly about them; nobody will criticize anything
they left babies, toddlers, wives, husbands and relatives behind
but they died for a purpose; they really did and that's what counts
it's over: stars are vomiting, the cemetery god is reading epitaphs

I want someone to come and save me.
I wish for someone to come and save me from myself.
I hope that someone comes and saves me. I hope.

Cause I’m my self’s worst enemy.
Cause I can be my own nemesis.
But not my own savior. Not that. That I cannot be.

I cannot be Him. I don’t believe. Don’t know how to.
To be honest I never learned how to do so.
Faith. That’s what’s been missing from my life all along.

Intellectual by nature. A child of science. A lazy philosopher chatting mindlessly endlessly about anything.
A mixture of perverse logic coupled with an over-the-fence sexuality.
That’s who I am. That IS my history. An animal of society. Someone out of control.

Some nights, I lay here waiting God to take my soul as I drift to sleep.
And others I make a mess out of myself and of others through my outrageous behavior.
Never being sensible. Always a step beyond what other people think of me. Surprise! Gotcha.

Things got so messed up for me since the day I was born here. Trauma. Confusion. Questions. Crisis.
Don’t know who I am. Don’t know who I want to be. Don’t know anything.
Who can solve the everlasting mystery of my life if not me?? Exactly. Nobody can and nobody will.

I have no destination or grounding point in life. I’m so lost. Oh God help me!
Don’t know how to put the leftover pieces of my broken self, back together again.
I’m ****** to live a life of misery and a life of mystery. An endless dark meaningless (I’m tempted to say) black hole in my heart surrounded by supernovas and neutron stars.

Who can fix me? Who can put me back together? Who can make me feel whole again?
Cause I don’t know a **** thing. I never knew. Even if my mouth moved a lot in the past.
Now who can save me? Does anybody can? Do you? Huh? I’m talking to you brother!!

“I can and will save you. My child you have no other option but to walk the righteous path once again.
You will see. You will begin to breathe again. You will begin to feel alive once again.
You will at last get to know how it is to be a part of this marvelous universe”

Empty promises! Hollow words! Half-hearted remnants of an old man’s monologue!!
Who are you to speak my destiny? God?? Show yourself! You imbecile!
How do you dare to question the tentacle-like hands that mother fate has put on my predetermined future???

I never was anybody! I am not anybody! I ‘m just nobody and I don’t want to be something more!
My existence gets verified by my low self-esteem. I want nothing more. This is enough for me!
Leave me alone! There’s only one thing I hope though. “I hope that someone finds me and saves me before it’s too late.”

Psychodynamic Catalyses commencing in 3... 2... 1...

Trial I:
Subject A's standing still, a perfect vacuous slate-
Oh wait - time: 10 - the twitching has begun
Something's been boiling beneath its skin:
Repressed, internalized emotions
Pleading - please - to leave the mind,
But no! It forgets, ignore the fractured bleeds
Inside,
Wipes clean the bursting mind anew.

Trial II;
Both Subjects have stumbled in, eyes met,
I reckon just one second left until the first
Wipes grimy doubts from seeping pores
And slathers some on its wincing guest.
Oh yes!
The most perfect Projection of self yet!
Proceed.

Trial III;,
Already introduced - the love pheromones -
And Subject A is completely induced
In love.
Distance, deliberations, and anguished moans
Hearken in the Pyrrhic self-preservation:
Subject A has maimed B in love-hate!
Reaction Formation a huge success.

Trial IV,
Gaslight interrogations have rendered
Subject A blind to all its repercussions,
For now the whole world's wrong if time
Can't prove its Rationalizations right,
No, not right, but fundamental to its very
Life!

Trial V
Hourly pedal electric shocks have Displaced
All the color of passion from the Subject's eyes -
Pale white!
And now in pathetic ploy to gain some joy
Leads it to bite, and gnaw, and destroy!
Everything!

Trial VI.
An injection of liquid memories
Of torment and trauma and rejected
Dreams,
And now the Subject has curled up
And shrunken backwards in time!
A little Regressed, teetering toddler,  
And now a suckling infant safe
By its mothers side.

Trial VII...
Something... unusual has occurred,
But do not fret or pull the funds!
Nothing but a standard deviation from the norm:
Our Subject has taken all its desires and cries
And transformed it into a radiant
Cloud.
Now, this Sublimation of the mind
Has left no pain, no suffering!
The Subject - I regret to inform - is fine.

AROUND THE CORNER

You always knew it would happen again:
the ruby beams, the whispered code, the silhouettes, and then
a muffled crunch, a stifled cough, a soft and cryptic knock.

A latch that wasn’t fastened on a door that didn’t lock.

They’ll catch you, they’ll break you,
they’ll wipe you for sure.
They know your every step and stop:
where you are, where you’ll be,
exactly where you were.

What did you feel when your mind was removed;
was it hard, sharp and painful, or satiny smooth.
Do you weep in the dark, do you know in your heart
that they kept you intact when they tore you apart.
Does your lurching awareness obsess on your doom,
do those tiptoeing whispers leave prints in your room.

Keep moving, keep hiding, till death brings the end.
They’re just around the corner, they’re just around the bend.

Go leap out the window, go slip through the trees,
burn the leaves in your journal and bury your keys.
Haunt the alleys and rails as you sneak town to town;
one eye on your back, one eye on the ground.

So where was your head when they rewrote your brain.
Did you think you were God, a file, or insane.
Are you groping for clues in the patterns they weave—
is a single thing real in the world you perceive.

They’re coming. Keep running. Don’t let yourself fall behind.
They’re searching through your blackest dreams, escorted by the blind.
They’re watching from the shadows, their burning eyes aligned.
They’re waiting in the dark around the corner of your mind.


Okay. NOW COPY AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW TO READ HERO, A SPRAWLING, GROUNDBREAKING FANTASY FOR GROWNUPS IN TWO PARTS. (BUT YOU MUST CLICK ON THE PROVIDED LINK AT THE CONCLUSION OF PART ONE TO ACCESS PART TWO! THAT’S WHERE THIS WORK’S AMAZING RESOLUTION LIES. But please...intelligent, soulful readers only!)
NOW HERE’S THAT LINK:

https://allpoetry.com/poem/14922744-Hero---Part-One-by-Ron-Sanders

CLICK ON IT!

Copyright 2020 by Ron Sanders.

contact:
ronsandersartofprose@yahoo.com

When the sirens echoed through the streets

When they handcuffed me so that I wouldn’t hurt anybody

I pleaded for help but deaf ears heard my screams

“You are a monster” chanted the voices briefly.

All I could see was red.

When I noticed the knife I must have held,

A ****** canvas spilt on the floor, hands bled,

I saw her once again that moment,

Sitting right in front of me murmuring to herself.


Sad young girl, long blonde hair,

Pale white skin and stench of death,

Baring her jagged teeth

Scars on her body etched in flame,

Chipping away my insecurities bit by bit,

Playing with a sharp little blade,

“Just in Case” she said.

All I could see was red.

When they took me to prison,

Changed my clothes to white and red,

Triggering colors to my psyche,

I saw that clown yet again.

The one with a wide smile, masking nice.

I knew the nefarious intentions he hid,

Petrified, I bowed my head and cried.

All I could see was red.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see it there,

Across the chamber,

On the wall up high

Working a trap with its leathery grisly little legs

When I stared at it,

Feeling the dread rise in my chest

It stared right back at me as if

Suddenly conscious of my presence,

It crawled its way over to me, daunting slowly,

The closer those creaking feet came to me,

Sinister voices of children giggling engulfed me.

I screamed for help once again and

This time a few voices of reality came back at me.

When I explained to them the monsters in my cell,

The crazy echoes I heard in my head,

“Madwoman” some called out but

Some reached out to help.

My life isn’t much different than yours.

We dream the same dreams,

Feel the same feelings.

The only difference being,

My nightmares blend with reality.

My life is a waking nightmare.

Through the battles I fought with my mind,

Ones I still fight each day,

I’m growing to embrace the clowns and spiders I see,

The same ones right here today.

Sometimes alone and sometimes with help,

All I see is red.

All I feel is red.