People only ever want to ask me about
the poetry -
those verses about
busted up noses in outer space;
about the pros working
way down passed
the corner of Broad and Main;
about fistfights and hard, hard drinking.
But I built a flowerbed this weekend...
Twenty two tastefully irregular stone blocks
in a crescent moon shape,
filled with the blackest of soils.
The sweat of toil.
The digging.
The planting.
Exotic grasses. Asian maybe?
Purple and yellow flowers.
Zinnias or some **** thing.
All covered in a thick blanket of brown mulch.
It's a fine thing to have dirt on your hands
instead of blood.
No one ever asks me about flowerbeds.

One problem I have.
That is feature in everyone's minds.
Is how ideas connect.
This is how negatives spread.
Became part of...sensation memory?
Like any sort of tingle,
Pleasing thought...
Immediatley judged and corrupted by my mind.
And for any weird or displeasing thought,
Connected to the strands of my pleasing and positive thought...
Where is the escape from thought?
One solution I need...
How to make sure certain thoughts don't become permanent.
How to block of connections...
Of the thoughts I don't like sent.
Where is the technology and intelligence I was promised?
That could give me the pleasing purity I missed...

I watch from the outside
because I cannot seem to move
towards smiling faces, laughing.
I stand here with something to prove.

A poetry reading, a crowded pub,
even just a trip to the local store
are mountains that stand before me,
over which I achingly long to soar.

Home has beccome my sanctuary,
imprisoning me in my shell.
Alone I find my inner peace,
alone I find my inner hell.

This duality is laughable,
paradoxically holding me in stasis.
I have the ability to act
but my potential is simply wasted.

At their mere thought of people,
I sweat profusely, my heart pounds
and no matter what I do
I cannot seem to calm myself down.

What am I supposed to do?
How do I change what I feel?
How can I convince myself
that the fears I have are not real?

I have been away for too long
In a solitude, burried with remorse
For I've lost a very close loved one
And the situation got worse

I prayed to be taken away
For my life to end
As soon as possible
Coz nothing much was left to mend

Tears rolled down my cheeks
To stop the negative thoughts
Got taken back many times
To untie the invisible knots

Voices got into my ears
That ached to explode my temple
Closing my eyes eveytime
A picture painted, to resemble

It's you, O'mum...that I can't get over with
Life seems, more like a lego
Feelings that can't be put into words
Every bit pierces through the core

Your smile, your beauty, your essence
Has all been captured by this heart
Now, in troubled weak times
Another scene peeps as an art

How will I ever, comfort myself
That now I am all alone
None that are left by my side
All have fallen and gone

May your soul rest in peace
Exactly, a month today
Missing you heaps in this crowded shell
Hope to meet you, someday...


©sim