1480

The fascinating chill that music leaves
Is Earth’s corroboration
Of Ecstasy’s impediment—
’Tis Rapture’s germination
In timid and tumultuous soil
A fine—estranging creature—
To something upper wooing us
But not to our Creator—

Contradicted
Don't live today thinking tomorrow will come
Don't live today thinking a change will come
Don't live today fretting for tomorrow
Don't live today expecting joy in the morning
Don't live today expecting sorrow in the morning
Don't live today thinking I'll be here tomorrow
Don't live today thinking I won't be here tomorrow
Contradicted
Corroboration

A blue sun beats down from
An electrically charged sky
I step into chaos an exodus
Towards the wastelands of

Fragmentation and depletion where
Fictions are invented daily and all
Images change where the shadows
Of life disappear in desperation

Where blood drips from eyes
Into a cataclysm that waits
Strung out in the black void

Clock hands attach themselves
To my mind piercing sentiments
Of shame

They elucidate the journey from
The external world seeking sanctuary
For visions that have been thrown
Dashed against bare brick walls

The ultimate realisation of imaginative
Truth shatters in torment falling sprinkling
To a festering ground proclaiming the
Dominance of emptiness

The conscious ambiguity of betrayal
That deforms corroboration creating
Untruth/ the derangement of qualification
A dialogue with the unknown gives

Birth to fictional facts of unsuitable
Confrontations of displacement
Back to imaginative reality that
Feasts on the trivial the banal
The ordinary and the mundane normal

I take steps into the space others
Fear to occupy become inside
The incantation of a new dimension

An actuality they brand as madness
Yet I am ecstatic in its awareness
This shall be my retribution
For who shall be judged

Ha, illumination is timeless
Has no master they can only
Speculate about the unknown
Its infinity

It is all the imaginations I possess
That shaky bridge between worlds
Where I take my heels my mind
Cannot be redistributed

I have lived through a disturbing night
Now move into an equally disturbing day
It is here I know I will die

What its like to be a segment of salacious commodity ?

OH YOU! beautiful fragment of fabricated chimera :
enclosed ! trapped !
inside these avaricious periphery of pseudo rim..
The frangible bedizen of synthetic praxises..
What is the sentiment of being a trade off  legacy ?
while the legitimate corroboration of the quid pro quo cant be found:
yet to this lethal covenant of undesired commingle you are to be bound..
For have they hold the confinement
so do they decide the Nemesis:
To  succumb your esse to the dread of
your ultimating youthful ****** pulp.
And just like a marionette..
there are thee:
concurring to cede for the felicity of those progenitors..
Immolating your notions and aspirations.
vanquished by the fidelity..
Just to commence the relinquish.
Just to cease the sentient.

Oh YOU!!
Just .another ...abiding flesh .
Just. Another....forlorn bride.

As if there were folds in a seam
A curtain drawn out to its fullest
Extent so does life present itself
That afterwards there are no
Corroboration or explanations
For what one clearly remembers
Clearly of things so unlikely as
To be impossible.  Yet they have
Happened; and I believe not to
Me alone.  Perhaps you too are
Mumm because it seems so un-
Seemly to speak about a silence.
That you plainly heard calling

Defying talk of cheap
corroboration
They have none to sweep.
Mounds of memories
Overdosed to last thought
Again defying my language
Your talk is cheap you bought.
So buy it somewhere else
I'm making a new life,
Defy me, I'll defy you
I'll live for me,
You can die for you.

7/5/19

If time is a racetrack,
This lap is far from over.
If time is a river,
I’m swimming against it like a maniac.

One day I’ll be out of time.
Which is sad, but by that time,
I’ll have to say, “bye,” to that time,
It’s lost; I can’t buy that time.

If time is a classroom,
I’ll always be tardy.
If time is a party,
I’m hiding in the bathroom.

I’m powerless to overhaul,
I can’t fix it – certainly!
Life goes by so slowly,
But I can’t remember me at all.

If time is my master,
My contract will always remain.
If time is a drop of rain,
I’m dry ground circled by water.

Plot twist- I’ll live forever,
Yet time affects me and my effects,
I continue, while it’s rule infects.
Oh, Lord how much longer?

If time is an elevator,
I’m opposite the top.
If time is a mop,
I’m the unfortunate floor.

Comparatively, I’m very young,
But I’ve always felt for “this generation,”
Treated like fools in corroboration.
You with experience, hold your tongue.

If time is a book,
I read the first and last page.
If time is a cage,
I’m in it, like a crook.

I will never tell them
Of the man in hospital chair beside me,
Chest hair poking through blue paper scrubs,
More than was on his head.
His locks like dull gray wires on scalp,
Jutting into the air as if charged,
Leaving a shiny full moon patch of skin on top.
I will never tell them
The way his beard seemed to stretch as he bent my direction,
Joining forces with the follicles on his chest,
The way his breath seemed to steal mine as he occupied my space.
I will never tell them
About the man whose name starts with M.
They will know I could not look him in the eyes to see their color.
They will not know how old he looked when he stretched my way,
Voice barely audible over the din
Of other patients screaming and thrashing in their restraints,
Yells of babies ****** out under drugged hazes,
The wild fantasies of diseased minds.
They will not know.
I will never tell them
How his muscles flexed when he stood,
Shouting at another patient,
The fight,
His eyes seeking mine as if for approval.
They will know I did not look.
I will never tell them how he took my hand,
Mumbling into my ear about how soft was my skin,
Arms draped over my wheelchair, uninvited
As I huddled under blankets.
I will never tell them
How my best friend watched,
My teddy bear given to me at birth.
Although not human,
I regret my inability to shield her eyes from this abomination of a man.
She will know that I tried to tell him no.
She will know that staff walked by,
Blind to my waving hands,
Unable to hear the silent whoosh of air passing through my damaged vocal chords
As I begged for their assistance.
I will never tell them
The way he rubbed my back or traced my arm
Before settling his hands too high on my thigh to be polite.
I cannot say more here.
I will never tell them
About the ice in my stomach,
Flooding through my body,
Already numb to my circumstance,
Afraid that he would merely lift my withered body from my chair
And do what he intended on the floor.
No faith had I that staff were the slightest bit of help.
The interest of other patients in my voiceless body
Was a welcome distraction to the psychiatrist
Doling out necessary medication to those more dangerous than I.
I will never tell them
What he did to me in the common area,
Stuffed bear the only one present of mind enough to bear witness.
Therapist has a word for his actions,
Not one I had ever intended to apply to my story,
Something reserved for the unfortunate lot of others,
Assault.
I will never tell them
His name like jagged teeth
Or the way his hands wandered without consent.
For in their minds I am nothing without corroboration,
And HIPPA law will prevent that.
After all, was I not merely a mental patient anyway?

"Mythology 101"


I'm jealous of the dream i think you have
Foolish me pining for an image cast
Upon you in me without your permission
Or corroboration. Bare subtle bones of
Mind fast dancing for flesh quicker than
Awareness can see or stop. Body form built
Of thoughts inner sense sations manifest.
So much habit. How much volition free
Will born? We don't know how to quantify
The souls measure or measure the makings
Of the soul. ****** equations yet to be
Discovered. Said and done are not one
And rifts of brain separate them. You
And others like you? mythology 101