#lunacy
Today, my train of thought
Is a bit off track.
It's a dark and confusing smokestack.
You see, questions abound.
So buckle in as I go to town.
Which cider you on?
Apple or hard?
If a tree falls on a copier
And no one is around to see it,
Does it make a forest?
I'm rooting for yes; but quite unsure.
How many coins can a fountain hold?
I wish I knew.
Is Paul dead or the walrus?
Is Paul dead AND the walrus?
Coo coo ca choo.
What's the beef about red meat?
It fills but kills? It sells but fells?
Who knows!
The proof is in the pudding.
All other desserts are unsubstantiated,
I suppose.
If peanut butter leaves Los Angeles
Traveling east at 100 miles per hour,
And jelly leaves New York
Traveling west twice as fast,
Will they become a sandwich when they meet?
What a treat if they did.
Maybe one day these
Universal questions will be solved.
But for now, I'm quite dizzy
From all the lunacy involved.
Catch you later...
Apr 14, 2023
Apr 14, 2023 at 3:42 PM UTC
#
I wrote that to you..
from the waiting room of my eye doctor
but I didn't know it sent. I was grinding on my jeep Sunday
and got a piece of metal in my eye the size of a farm tractor,
but all is well after this second visit 👀
A couple of reasons for the multiple accounts..
Originally started as my way of satiring the many people
on the site that use multiple accounts to put likes and
comments on their own work in order to make it trend..
or even make the 'daily'..
or to stroke themselves with compliments
so horrendously.. uh, dishonestly.
But me being the battle-hardened, ******* nonconform
that I am, the first time I commented on my own piece,
my own account made fun of myself
to such a degree..
it ended up in a fistfight--
But it was me.. just ******* up
the whole trolling process.
I always tell the ones that I care
about who all is 'me'.
I also phase popular ones of mine out
and replace them with new ones
if that one is getting too noticed on the site.
That way I don't garner too many followers, which I believe
quenches one's freedom that is lost within the obligatory
'give and take' mindset that is a cancer on this
and so many other online writing sites.
Vogel started talking to you when I was no longer
scared of how quickly you got in with me.
I talk like crazy when someone like you gets in to the inner-core
of me so easily.. just by being the way that you are.
The babbling provides a canopy of structure.. Love's structure.
Strange, I know.. but I don't like being scared.
Its a boundary-thing..
and there is so little about ones like you
that even remotely slows down
the process of getting in..
and I'm-a.. uh..
"I'm a loner, Dottie.. a rebel.."
~Peewee Herman
yeah.. that.
The accounts keep me safe from the
general public by bringing
pieces of me out, relationally onto the screen as a way of
providing for myself, the warm cover of love's structure--
me.. with me.
All so very strange sounding, I'm sure.
I really enjoy watching you, kid.
I'm so sorry for bombing you with all those wordy messages
when we met. Your unique heart, mind, and spirit
are everything perfect in my eyes.. yes.. even with all of your
current broken, fragmented pieces.
You were recently maybe under some form of a psyche-hold,
which is probably where the psyche eval came from.
Some in the mental health field care deeply.. many are just
going through the motions-- originally thinking it was
for them, and then finding out what the true cost
of love really is, before slinking back into a foot-shuffling
process.. even as psychologists,
and often even medical psychiatrists (prescribers)--
Who love to find a name for things so they can 'expertly'
enter into relationship with what now has a name,
rather than the deeply-hurting person.
Everybody wants the **** beautiful-voiced girl who stands
a very good chance of making her mark so well in this world.
I would trade access to the 'best' part of it all with you,
just to have the chance to be with you, for even 5 minutes
on that **** and tear-soaked, psyche room floor.
That is where I want to be.
My multiple "friends" keep me free..
unencumbered.. deeply-loved..
.. ready.
Broken-down, and pitch-black within the darkness of all its
despair. That is where it is that I would trade all things for,
in order to be..
with you.. deep in to the very r e a l of it all..
if you ever fell down that temporarily far.
Everything I do is for that moment.
My "friends" give me strength. They believe in me
because I so deeply believe in my loved self.
*Hence, the ability to go anywhere
you may one day have to go.*
Sorry, kid.. but you asked.
#
Mar 1, 2022
Mar 1, 2022 at 7:40 PM UTC
Something for the
insomniacs,
the maniacs,
and the lunatics.
Poetry about
you and me,
sleep and waking,
life and death.
This is to read
when the sun rises
and you're still awake,
or when the stars are
shrouded in clouds.
This is for all of you
who have yielded
your sanity to the moon
and felt the meaning of
lunacy in your bones.
I dedicate this collection of
oddities to all of you oddities,
may you read it and sleep.
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 3:46 AM UTC
Far across the water sits a little Chinese man,
who has his own ideas of life's most desired plan.
On the other side of the ocean is yet another guy,
whose plan doesn't agree with a Chinese minds eye.
Petty is their game but they just don't see it so,
and so they push each other in a destructive to and fro'.
Two school boys being bullies is the policy that they choose,
Both belligerent and stubborn, both determined not to lose.
Surely they must see that the other guy wont ever give in.
Preferring total destruction over allowing the other guy to "win".
They cant see that neither side will ever accept to give,
Both intent to destroy it all than allow us all to live.
All can see it coming but no one dares make a sound,
until the mark of mankind's passing is just craters in the ground.
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 11:40 PM UTC
I'm trailer trash
And you're the tattered wheels
Run me over
Vilipended shrew
This place is full of
Rabid raccoons
And collect calls
Someone's got to pay
Maybe we can milk
A cash cow
Or plant a money tree
Between grandma
And the shed
A game of miniature golf
Always helps my mind
Get back on par
(More or less)
Then it's back to the bus stop
And be done with you
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 2:09 PM UTC
When she asked me,
“What triggers you?”
I couldn’t pick one.
Crap.
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 12:04 PM UTC
I went crazy
I did feral little dances
I acted in ways most betraying
of my previous social stance
but there were others
a multitude
it was the fault of the moon
we are weak and...
Mr. Moon
The Whey-faced Satellite has drawn deck
of our cowered population
on this full beaming night
this Friday
the anaemic loon quaker
is a menace
it lugs hard on the minds most creative
it moulds imagination and felonious thought
where previous their dwelled only a shopping list
it skims hostile cream from the fragile
and kissed wetter still
the most eager berserker
a dance of madness tups open the houses
pucks at our activities
plucks strings that fire our kinetic clatter
and scuppers any will to resist
Human species take the streets in corrosive numbers
A Party like this
shall make a dent
A Party like this
shall be a fist in Our Story
Hosted by the Moon
here I am
in the mix
prancing like some zany goof
Feb 29, 2020
Feb 29, 2020 at 8:56 PM UTC
Insatiable insanity,
left wing, right foot, home.
Rectangular, triangular,
incapably prone.
Unable stigmatically,
invariably drone.
Whimsical fanatical,
address unknown
Sounds can describe
the words they convey.
Tranquil decisions can blur,
but do they.
Utter a word
to see what you say,
say what you see,
then be what you may.
Describe it in detail,
exhale every verb,
catch yourself, let yourself
grade on a curve.
But don’t strain your brain,
if it doesn’t make sense,
just take it all in,
come down off your fence.
Oct 29, 2019
Oct 29, 2019 at 6:49 AM UTC
I seek what I’ve learned but failed to understand
Celebrating this nothingness, oblivious to my heart
Expectation creates pressure that elevates my fear
Reality sets me free or so they made me believe
I walk along this thread, no ends on both sides
Balancing this lunacy with outbreaks so calm
I carry these words, no longer they are mine
What more can I do, to make them satisfied
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 10:36 AM UTC
As I sit
Under the lunatic light of the full moon
Of the blood-red lights of the moon
Full of wild passions
The lustful beast stirs again
And starts running and running
Howling at the moon
Riding into the new dawn
On a demented Harley Davis cycle
With two naked babes on his back
Riding into the sun
90 miles per second
At the speed of thought
He disappears into the lunatic light
Of the full moon
And I wake up
Alone in my bed
Saying, man, that was quite a night
I better not go there again
The wild beast
Laughs
He has heard that before
And I join
The beast
In howling at the Moon
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:21 AM UTC
I stood outside
Between the trees
In a field
On the outside of town
Beneath the lunatic rays
Of the blood red full moon
The lunatic lights of the moon
Casts a wild primeval glow
On me
The hormonal chemicals are unleashed
The wild beast within
Escapes it chain
And I howl with delight
A werewolf
Free at last
To run amuck
Free of its civilized restrains
Throwing off its clothes
Stripping naked
Running wild
Naked and free
A wild man
Enjoying his freedom
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:19 AM UTC
The sky is so blue, yet so very sorrowful,
Here in my prison, these thoughts just won't fade,
Exiled from a holy world into a lonesome, somber lunacy,
This painful day, the dream of a better, hopeful tomorrow,
Are truly the light of my fading consciousness in this hell,
So I went to count the days till judgement deems me pure again, until I may become whole once more from these broken shards of the past,
Budding sprouts begin to bloom quietly, as the timeless seasons rush by and vanish into the bittersweet remembrance of ones memories,
"Stay, even if you're weak, dear conscious" I wispered to myself as then my tired eyes got distracted for a brief moment,
Time already had come to an inevitable halt, so at least my pocketwatch told me after letting out one last, delicate ticking sound,
With that, the phantoms of my past had laid down to rest, as the coming dawn greeted me by displaying the fading stars of the sky,
This is truly a repeated tale I endure in this pitiful isolation,
But if my painful past were to be erased, the last brilliance of my life would be deemed lost, for the darkest moments truly are a gift from above, helping us to determine moments of joy, bliss and purest love,
So I hope that one day, this body of mine will swift into prayers, hopefully in the beauty of an unclouded light, filled with moonlight,
Maybe then, I can finally move on, leave this lunacy far behind me,
Deep inside these puzzled eyes give me courage,
Despite being sealed away I shall discard everything and challenge this unmerciful fate of mine,
Then I can reach that sky, where my ideals are displayed,
Surely freedom awaits the border of consciousness, at least I hope,
Love blooms on the waters surface, filled with countless tears
And with this newfound freedom I can withdraw myself in this wonderful, pure holy world I waited for so long!
Despite it being distant a fantasy,
I dream of a hopeful tomorrow,
Here, in my exile.
~ Umi
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:08 AM UTC
I can’t see their anger.
I can’t taste their rottenness.
I can’t smell their stench.
I can’t hear their screams.
I can’t feel their stones.
I’ve grown cold of this world.
Shutting out all the lunacy
by looking into myself.
And I’m content, calm, ready.
They can’t scare me anymore.
I’ve sent my fears to the gallows.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
What are you drinking sir?
Oh, inside this wooden mug
several things exist
Stalks from the flowers of rainbow
and some molten clouds of autumn
Petals from the maize shrubbery yonder
and some drops from youth's lunacy of course
All you need
for the upcoming winter
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
I saw two faces in the moon tonight
A lady smiling at me, with delight
I saw the face of a whimsical man,
It looked like it’d been carved out wood
With brows so arched he’d be holding his belly from laughter
if he could
I saw two faces in the moon tonight
I looked in the mirror and asked myself
“Are you alright?”
I felt a warmth, from head to toe
My heart the most
The moon hanging low
I left my bedroom window, curtains open wide
I went to the beach to see
Her bright
So low
in the faraway sky
Turned the littered sand
a smooth hue of white
The timid ocean beside the sand of sparkling silver
The presence of the moon in the harvest sky
Caused my spine to shiver
I muttered all my wishes with a sigh
My eyes must have sparkled glitter
With the moon watching over me,
I was understood, protected, loved
The moon was low among the sky
And I was on an elevator towards heaven
Moonshine high
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
They tell me the fires are not real
That the sparks sprinkling my veins does not exist
That I am just imagining the insanity in my own world
They reprimand the way I stare as I glare into the devils eyes
As I demand the devil to stop shouting my sins and the ways I have lied
They scream with "it is all in your head" as smoke rolls from their eyes
All I want to roar back is that they can't shout sanity into insanity
But I can't
And with that I glance down looking at the way hell opens up and snatches me into the ground
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
The city of lunatics
Awake
Snatching semicolons
Left on pavements
Of incomplete poems
Over mouths pregnant with scattered letters
Wrapping singed skin
In dots and full stops
With loveless chokes writ on their faces
Lost in bruised
Sleep
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 9:00 AM UTC
Your eyes, their photo booth blinks,
are filed PDF's behind my prefrontal cortex.
Parachuting to the moon,
where the gravity god is mortal,
my stimuli float in a sensory deprivation tank.
I practice wearing my isolation blindfold,
allowing all other senses to eat its portion,
SO in time IT fades.
I close my trained eyes
in the warm water and Epsom salts,
my desolate tank of solitude,
And we are holding hands naked,
floating in your Dead Sea.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
Time is moving
In a stream of wonderous murderous intending, sacrificing sadness,
My ****** devotion, ought to shed blood in a distorted dark was but an perishable spring dream, looping without an end through nights,
On sleepless nights, the ghosts of the past gets stuck within a river of pure thoughts, a lake birthing memories in secret, subsconsciously,
Discard your common sense, sacrifice your sanity for just this second,
When the moon stands high in the sky, a bonfire seals the nights start
To its creeping shadows, they do not crackor sparkle under the twinkling stars of this celestial ceiling of pure majesty for nyctophiles,
Even our natural satelite agrees, dying itself into a lunatic scarlet red,
Darkness upon darkness, with layers of shadows overlapping one another as the light begins to dim, thanks to the disappearing moon,
An imaginated landscape, created from only pure rage and fury,
But whereabouts of the heart, are likely to be lost to the thought of love I carry within a broken chest of treasury, losing all emotions,
Even if my scarlet eyes were to be losing their ability yet to see,
I would be able to count on you to guide me, through the everlasting,
The dream I awoken from, was a moonlit night turning crimson, losing its radiance through the soft eclipse of the moon, gently, slowly
But you were there, within the far away landscape drawn in my heart
~ Umi
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
Dear life, what is it that makes you take on a journey which always leads towards an unavoidable, devestating yet resenting death ?
Since I cannot understand it fully I wander upon this world without finding any clear answers to satisfy the curiousity my heart bears.
In the realm of dreams I find rest, as my mind engages into this illusion and frees me from this reality for as long as my body pleases.
Awakened by loitering darkness, these questions are repeating themselves on a path of recurrance, without decreasing in strengh.
As my breath dies while feeling the agony, flames of hatred are seeping through my fragile, delicate existence, giving energy.
Rumbling, boiling in sadness I tell myself that anyone's forgiveness is not neccesary, losing control over this riot of pure fury without heart.
Looking back a thousand times, it remains as my very best choice.
Letting these emotions race, rage and rampage uncontrollably
Whilst losing ones self within a lunatic laughter to release pressure
I cannot stop these tears, pitying the past long gone rolling down my cheeks, moistening the very soil I am growing on, as a pure lily
Until the moment comes in which my body exhausts itself and allows me to enter the world of dreams, where despair fades into happiness.
Until the sun rises once again
~ Umi
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 6:23 PM UTC
Standing on the edge to a sea of pure lunacy this lily blooms,
Her scars, she wishes them not to fade but to shed more blood,
Corrupted by the world around her, which took what she held dear, The only wish to seek revenge she blooms while sympathising with fury and hatred thicker than the spreading of the darkness of night,
A murderous intent, likely energetic enough to break through the ground to get what her desires tell her she needs so dearly,
Getting rid of everything, the love within her hurting chest, so she'd eventually awaken as this distorted image of what was once pure,
Her enemies shall try to escape while observing their dying moments,
Laughing at them whilst watching how they are ruined in seconds,
Throbbing in the dark, the figure of hatred wriggles in moonlight,
Lonely the soul resented by life, keeps up her riot for once more,
In bloodlust and vengence for her own reflection cast on the water,
Deep within her, a crying, broken, yet flickering light calls for help,
If forgiveness could be served, her wounds would heal and she would be able to be herself again, free without any grief or sorrow,
Maybe then, she will even be able to feel love again.
~ Umi
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
The crows called to me this morning
So early it was dark
They told me that they missed me
Their song met my insanity
And, together, we sung a lullaby
Under a blood red moon
The perfect ******
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 7:46 PM UTC