a poem for the perturbed
partially peeved
marginally miffed
indirectly disturbed

not for those in love
not for loss or for longing
not for the haughty highbrow
half hazardly happy saps
that drown you in their
dizzily delerious
words about joy and wonder

this poem is for the average joe
joe sixpac joe normal
kicked back, laid back
ignoble informal

working class
pain in the ***
foul mouthed, burnout
college drop out
that doesn't have two
sweet words to rub together

this poem is for me

and you... if you want it.

Candy cane soldiers
roll her down like a boulder,
Her wet cheeks nearly speak
with that bed of concrete on her shoulder.
Could it be? It is she!
Redundant locks trapped in braid
Suddenly, squirming around the corner
a mustached man repeats
"Your wish is mine to fade,
you hold no recognition in the decision youve made.
So its time you come with me"
The princess and her scruples finally flee.

Unsteady warp
blurring corpse after corpse.
One with a top hat
and 3/4 of a profile pose.
Horns surrounded with fur
turned to a hairless neck for a nose.
Useless change changed the pace,
as far as walkin' goes.
Each taste is heavier,
Each word is touchier.
Their fingers grew legs
runnin where answers grow on a tree.
Could it be? I see he.
How can you not
when he hides in the most obvious of spots!
Im serious.
He's as clear as the beer on your beard,
you're delerious.
Take a look at the windowless reflection
pointing in the direction back at thee.
Sneaky little red-eyed bumblebee

A Fever.

The kind that consumes you completely
and totally.  The kind that taunts you by
playing with physics.  

You're so hot, yet as you throw off the covers...you shiver
You've been sweating for hours...yet your mouth is barren of moisture

You lie as still as possible.  All movement equals pain.
Don't roll over
Don't scratch that itch
Don't even think about it
Curl into a ball and
Embrace the stillness

You're delerious as you flit
between wakefulness and sleep
never quite sure where you are
at any given time

Your dreams are drawn in the style of Dali
Colors everywhere, bright and vivid.  
The beauty makes you want to cry
To scream at the heavens,
Yell until your voice gives out.
Why?  Why are we forced to live
in such a bleak and dreary world
when such beauty lies
just beyond our eyelids.

The heavens answer.

You wake up in agony.  Your head is
Spinning
Thumping
Pounding so hard that your eyesight vibrates

For a brief moment, everything makes sense
Everything in the universe comes together
into a brilliant cosmic speck of enlightenment

It's wonderful and terrible.  
It's beautiful and disgusting
Your mind is reeling
The comprehension is too much

You love the pain
The pain is freedom

As it envelopes you,
the realization hits you
that you won't remember

You scramble to write it down
As much as you can before the
dullness replaces the fire

It won't matter

You'll read the words that you've
written on the paper much like
an archaeologist reads ancient
heiroglyphics.

Knowing, but not understanding.

Pain wins, you lose.  Unconsciousness

Then you wake up,
still dizzy from the fever.

You
Look around your room
and wonder why you
Feel

Empty

She gave me the Plankton
The lowest lifeform of her being.
Anointed  with this discovery
I too gave in and shared with her a deep
and impenatrable solace within me.
Such truths arent always shown in sight
of others.
Nor are they whispered in ear shot,
But somehow
She burrowed right through them.
Empathy in a female form!
And not jaded and wrought with thoughts of imorality.
Day by Day she would come and take frlom me these
deviant caverns and restlless ideals sprung forth from
absence of maturity in child hood and loss of faith
as a growing man in the seamingly uncommon trait and
beauty each human claims the next has deep within.
The savage mastication of delerious greed
Usually self righteous. Sweetlt nipping at the arms of the impoverished.
the malady spreading further through while the ogres stomp their feet for attention
puffing up their chest like creatures and only for a moments pay they contract a virus
all to familiar in their learned ways.
her delicate hands grouping at the flesh id presented brushing away the small
inconsistences and as i vaguely remember now and to this day
she slipped a finger inside and in the membranes and masses an ease would fall over me.
the rush of expelling all that ales you within is a euphoria like no other.
Yet each time she would leave something behind.

Long hours forgotten in sheets of paper,
A better bottle, more for nothing:
Lost saints and false idols,
Iconoclastic Oddfellows -- strange masters bellow
Shows of blue smoke and mirrors, a dream
At Bradbury's 2 am, shared nightmares
Ending all the same way, with no
Connection to be known except the lack of sleep.

Making the long drive, ending in your arms,
No direction except for tiredness, no
Autumn except for slotted time,
No finished books, only started stories,
Just a taste of dry leaves, dryheaves, and delerious summer eves.

My middle name is sleep, and I will dream
In wakeness as easily as with my eyes closed.
But sometimes the best answers lie
On the backs of your eyelids.
Read carefully.

The if is an uncertain description of what may be not what already is. Woodshine here alone although cars are full. Taking medications to keep  sanity because they told me I was insane but then I really did go insane. Woodshine through windows and doors all the nights.  Never a word that rhymes in time describing a delerious encounter with the moon. No great line here. Woodshine at darkness of day  through crisp fall cool air. Im no longer crazy or maybe not aware of what really is. Woodshined all through the house and even in the night.

delerious, drowning in a sea of self-loathing
smoke clouds my eyes, the fire feuled by broken potential
untouched resources burn and vanish
only ashes remain to taunt me
only the mirror remains to haunt me
only venemous laughter to daunt me
stifle my every thought
is it suprising then that i lie alone
in the filth and darkness of fear
never to rise, never to sleep
always to dream, always to be reminded
of what will never be...

The only thing that can surpass the grandness of my intellect, is my unrelenting naivety
The only wisdom I lack, is that of experience
I assume all the things that I neglect, in my late latency
But, lately I attest, I’m quit definitely delerious

I want to build grand monuments to loved ones, but I’ve never been an engineer
Pass down grand teachings to my sons
Yet I’ve never been a father, in any year

I wish to love a woman, like no woman has ever been loved before
To tell her irrelevant stories, and only store memories in the drawer.
To take her to places she hasn’t heard of before or even seen.
Create! The things that she can adore and make the chaos serene

I am no fool, I know what I want.
I desire commitment, I long for Freedom and independence
I decided her love for me; I’ll proudly flaunt
But, internally keep it secret, to nurture my own dependence

One day, she noticed that her love for me was gone
And all the little things she loved about me, all of the quirks, and unintentional foolery
Had turned into insufferable character traits, and puzzling conversations
She no longer loved me, and I love her still.

But, I could not love her, the way she wanted to be loved and cared for
And eventually she could not love me as well
She needed to be loved, but only from a distant shore
Her love, in kind, I could not compel

I need to say a million things to you, tell you how I feel, show you how I hurt, and imply what I desire.
I wish to scream, loudly and often, let the air wash away the bitterness from my lips, and try to rekindle the fire.

But, instead. I stay silent, and act benign
And when asked… I say : “I’m doing fine”

Seldom do we find our own reality gnawing at the right door
Senseless guise and fruitless time arrived from feeding on the wrong domain

Indecision obfuscating want and need
Imploring absolution as an only means to achieve hope
Begetting desolation is the end result in spite of it all

We are found, when
We let go of what was tearing down our walls
We are done, when
The lie becomes the forged duality
We are lost, when
Hopeless dreams derive from tainted purity

Love is not a way to seek reprise
The heart demands a sacrifice of old
Each new dawn beseeches zero compromise

We either live long enough to see our desires through and die alone without surmise

Or we strive to push through all the insalubrious conjecture long enough to see what's true

Sanctity, depravity, hand in hand echoing
Peace does not become the solution until chaos has its way without vision
We see ourselves wrought through trial of flame
Burnt by years of decimating neglect, impoverished longing for what soul would embrace our own

I see you, and I see the sun; blinding impressions waking every eye closed by incessant deception

I seek you, and I feel the earth beneath my soles; through embodied disposition, resonating "you have begun the right direction"

I feel you, and I feel a place to call my own

I want you, and I find peace of mind to  extricate the withering denial of prior disappointment

I need you, we feel the stark contrast of what was and begin anew

I want to spend my time and effort creating stronger paths that lead us to where we both desire to go

And the rest is misery
Fiery contemplation
Delerious disposition
An exposé of all we aren't
Indecision left at the crest of dawn
Seething repitiore in words and meaning, disdained and left to fester away from all that matters of the heart

We are strong, and the resolute sinks in

We are proud, and misery's addiction fades into oblivion

We are meant to be, savory, undeniable, absolute, fateless but reliably designed hand in hand

You are the string cut from the edge of the woven cloth, I am the seam with withered edges; our hearts the hands that begin to write anew the chapter which binds our ties; our shared strength lies in the knots we bound

Suffer never again
Cry never alone
Waste no time nor effort
Be as one to behold

We are living apart, together
Someday soon, we live as one
We forge sanctuary beyond all weather
In due time, our strife be done

You are my revelry
You are my empathy
You are my fateless waltz into the unknown
You are my dawn, my night, my favored tone
You are my heart
You are my warmth
You are the glow with which I have to guide my path
You are my undeniable way home

But do you feel a semblance?...

You rode your
LITTLE RED CORVETTE
into PAISLEY PARK
wearing a
RASPBERRY BERET
and
UNDER THE CHERRY MOON
and you sang of
CONTROVERSY
and we continue to
ADORE you
even when you took us to
ALPHABET STREET
we thought you to be
DELERIOUS, but
you were a
PARTYMAN
that made the
HOUSEQUAKE
in 1999
Always and forever
EXTRAORDINARY
considered one of
THE BEAUTIFUL ONES
with a theme of
DMSR
in this POP LIFE
so just for you and
on the count of
7...
LETS GO CRAZY
in the
PURPLE RAIN.