This poem is about itself
How did it become in the first place
Oh, it just did I guess.

It’s not deep
It’s just about……
Itself
It’s not even that good
Ummmmmm….
What else can it say about itself?

It’s written in English.
That’s a fact
It’s a very factual poem
And it knows it
It knows it very well

There’s not very many big word in it
As far as it knows
It’s still pretty curious as to how it came to be
So…..let’s think about it together

So…
If this poem is only referencing itself
And we know it is by definition
Then, how could it have referenced itself in the first place?
We know, also by definition that it exists
But the only reason it exists, is because at one point it didn’t exist
Because it had to have started from somewhere
Otherwise it would have just been here to begin with
There has to be an answer, because, well, it exists……
I think it’s ranting now.
What do you think?
Is there seriously not an answer to this?
This is gonna drive me nuts
I think I’m about to lose my mind
Is it over?

I write this opening line
Such that you will understand the overarching theme
I am disorganized
I am rattling around in a cage within myself
And I don’t want to come out

Listen to the way I communicate
I have fleeting visions
By the time I finish this thought
There is a new beginning
Washing away everything there was before

It is a constant river of thoughts and thoughts about thoughts
That think themselves about themselves
Down the water toward the ocean
Thoughts can only be thoughts
I am rambling you are listening
Take notice of me

Watch me try and traverse this vast stream of consciousness
I cannot reach the shore and if I did it would be disastrous
Got it?

The world can wait till tomorrow
Right now I have to remember how to stay focused
Right now I have to remember how to walk straight
Tomorrow I can worry about what matters

Tomorrow I might not feel great
Right now I can think of the world
Almost like a beautiful frame
In a long drawn out boring film

Tomorrow will surely be different
I know the only difference exists within me
Though I can accidentally forget this difference
On a whim

Sometimes I get tired
I fumble around and around
Searching furiously
For the off switch

It’s tough being alive
But it seems pretty tough to die too
Sometimes you can put your finger on it
Most times you can’t

I wish it was a lot more simple
I don’t see what requires the world to be this
Endless, tenacious, and unruly mass of
Swirling colors and ideas

If there’s meaning
I might have found it
But probably not
It’s almost certainly not that simple
....But only almost

What is this nonsense
Of people who can look at something
Or someone
And just feel….
A complete indifference

When I see you
I know what you mean to me
I know right in that moment
If I love you or if I hate you
There is no in-between
There is no deciding
There is only my state of mind
In a blink of any given instant
It’s overwhelming how much of a rollercoaster
I ride on every single day
From moment to moment
To the most glorious feelings
To the depths of despair
I can’t seem to keep my feet on the ground
But then again
Do I really want to?

I remember the day we just spent hours and hours together
Even though
I know
At the time it wasn’t quite so interesting
Now with my infinite wealth of knowledge
Granted to me by time, so arbitrary in nature

It seems to me like those were the good old days
Just you and me together
I can leave out all the tediousness
The clangs and clutters that inhabit any day on this strange planet
And just remember what it was like
To be with you

There’s a girl
I wonder what she thinks about
I think she thinks about me sometimes
How incredible to think
That I could occupy some small corner
Of a vast consciousness so different from my own
How elusive and carefree she is
I’m somewhere in there
Tucked away

I dreamt last night I had to call 911
I can't remember the reason
The point is
I had finally broken the shackles
Of my reasonably boring life
Never before interrupted by the pang of emergency
I was able to ask someone for help for a purely rational reason
And that was that

As the endless and tireless yammerings of life surround me
My mind can curl up into a little ball
Even though I didn’t really need it to

Sometimes I think my mind has a mind of its own
It only asks for forgiveness
Never quite for permission

Sometimes my mind seems like it’s searching
Like an animal hunting its prey
Yet it always seems in the end

To be chasing its own tail
Like a careless curious dog
Just content to have something to do

Sometimes my mind likes to take a seat and watch the madness unfold
And place bets on the most likely winner for the day
I think it secretly likes to bet on the underdogs

I’d like to think that most of these things are broken and need fixing
But my mind knows better
My mind will think and do what I please

An actor was perched in perfect fragility upon the stage
He blurred the lines
Hid behind a shroud
A giant banner of illusion caked within his face

Who could he be?
Did it matter?
Did it matter if it mattered?
He moved this way and that whilst belching his monologue

There was an implied and shared delusion
Within him
Within the audience
He carried himself toward his marks night after night

As the scene drew to a swift and rewarding close
He turned his back to leave
Crossing the lines
Between two worlds occupied in the same space