"schiz" poems
Four
Schiz(Zoo)phrenic
breaks
with reality
are
me
I can
-hear-
YOU
fluttering. . .
fluttering. . .
birds communicating
insects have emotion(s)
hear ~ravens
calling me
footsteps on the ceiling *
and you. . .
appear solid
I could've touched you.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
ººº
*Beware lest anyone cheat you through philosophy and empty deceit,
according to the tradition of men, according to the basic principles of the world,
and not according to Christ.*
Colossians 2:4-8 (NKJV)
His Nietzschean trip moved from Comic toward Tragic:
Deleuze’s delusions flew out the fenêtre
Airborne and ****** on philosphy’s magic
(the nihilist suicide’s raison d’être…)
Propelled from the window, transcending the Ontic,
his organless body in textual flight,
a schiz-flow beyond on a voyage turned frantic.
His thought – a nomadic adornment for speed,
multiplicitly viewing a thousand plateaux
was a force for unhinging the doorways of light
and a plea for postmodern decoding indeed.
His frame soon encountered pure striated space
in the form of the pavement caressing his face.
He joins other smokers of Gallic tabac,
other esotericians of cognitive frenzy
(those mullahs of madness, those sultans of Whack…)
Sorely missed by his victims, disciples and friends
he is mourned, misinterpreted, copied, dismissed
– but for semioticians he heads up the list.
Another brave Frenchman, some guy named Debord
a bespectacled Marxist (who missed all the marks)
made the mediums’ message a radical bore
dialectically fading the lights into darks.
Indirectly disrupting pop-culture with Punk
and other anarchic phenomena-junk,
he too chose to leave with a nihilist bang –
while we whimper and suffer down here with the gang.
The old situationist’s last situation:
an agit-prop funeral short on elation…
So to French de-constructor-philosopher-ravers
and all who rejoice while society wavers
I offer these lines, like a quick coup-de-grace
and be warned – they’re now viewing the Good Lord en face.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
Eyes of dull with rage to shed,
a hair displayed the crimson red.
Soul of stains like wine on bread,
remove the waste, recall the dead.
Vicious is as Vicious says,
a simple schiz without his meds.
Reptiles dwell where the climates dynamic
fakes only sunbathe and copy the tactic.
Delicious is dread which is born out of sin
such the slyest of styles and guile with grin.
Just remember the words of your elder and kin,
eggs are good for dinner but you're much to small for Dragons.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
Her voice was the sweetest thing
that she will ever speak, if only
she would speak to me again.
When the chocolate strawberry that is her voice
melts onto my tongue and into my ear
things appear that shouldn't.
The strange lands, my unbalanced self.
But with her voice, the sweetest thing,
I feel that all other people make no sense.
So I'll risk it - I'll risk everything I have
for the invisible caress that turns my skin to fire.
The caress of the infinite fingers made by her beautiful voice.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 2:12 PM UTC
i am openshut basket case.
a real cool hand luke
who throws febrile shade
on all
the things.
step on the corona of my silhouette
and i wet gods red
with bottled up passive agro tactics.
king.
crown.
thrown
into
this ****
i didnt ask for it;
so, now im asking
for it.
i like to think i was,
once upon
a slick timespace,
******* whole -
instead of
flipped chan-
nel;
snow s t a ti c,
no signal;
running TVly
with bulls that pushpull the cool
that keeps me
from editing me out
with metallic deletes.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
Although I am now medicated
by small bluish-green pills,
I sometimes skip a dose a day
only based upon the hope
that she will speak to me again.
Without the pills my world is
confusing. People don't make sense,
things appear that shouldn't
and I feel things I normally wouldn't.
But to risk walking through
the strange lands that my unbalanced
mind creates would be worth it.
If I were to one day finally see
the woman who speaks so gently into my ear.
Her voice was the sweetest thing
I had ever heard. It was to my ears
as a chocolate strawberry is to my tongue.
It would only ever say nice things to me.
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 2:10 PM UTC
IF THIS MY GOODBYE
SO BE IT
IF YOU FIND THIS
JUST KNOW
I LOVE YOU
WHOLEHEARTEDLY
MY DECISION
MY LIFE
YOU COULDN'T STOP SHEIT IF YOU TRIED
PROBABLY WOULD HAVE MADE ME STAY ANOTHER DAY
AND MAYBE ANOTHER DAY AFTER THAT
BUT EVENTUALLY YOU WOULD HAVE GREW TIRED
AND EVENTUALLY I WOULD HAVE TOO
I NEED YOU MORE THAN EVER BEFORE
LOOKING FOR FLOWERS TO BLOOM
IN PLACES THAT NEEDED FIXING
OR I THOUGHT NEEDED FIXING
FOR THAT MATTER
I HATE IT HERE SOMETIMES
THIS PLACE IS NO PLACE FOR ME
BECAME SENSITIVE TO EVERY TOPIC
BECAME SCHIZ EVEN
WAITING FOR YOU TO COME HOME
HOME
BECAME FURTHER THEN I THOUGHT
I JUST KEPT SPIRALING
SENSITIVE BECAUSE SHEIT GOT REAL
AND TEARS STARTED FLOWING
EVER SINCE THAT CALL CAME
I BECAME DISTANT
THAT OUTER BODY EXPERIENCE
WAITING FOR YOU
TO GET BACK
FELT LIKE I ENTERED ANOTHER
DIMENSION
LOST
TRYING TO GET BACK
EVERY TIME I HELD YOU
I FELT THIS DISCONNECT
WITH BEING PRESENT
I CRIED THE LOUDEST
YET NO ONE HEARD ME
EVERYDAY
FELT MIXY
I TRUSTED YOU
GOT ME
KILLED
****
YOU GOT ME
I HOPE YOU FEEL ACCOMPLISHED
WHY ME
OVERPLAYED
LIKE AN UNRELEASED BEAT
YOU HAD NOTHING TO LOSE
I FELT PLANTED
IT WAS **** ME WHEN IT RAIN
OUTTA STATE
OUTTA MIND
FEELING BODIED
DRIVING THE BOAT
PRAYING IT DON'T SINK
PRAYING THIS RAIN DON'T LAST FOREVER
HOW IT SUNNY OUTSIDE
AND ALL I FEEL IS RAIN
DRIVING THE BOAT
YET IN OUTER SPACE
MIND SPEEDING
IF ONLY I SMOKE THAT
THERE WOULD BE A LOT OF SMOKE IN THE AIR
IF I LEAVE NOW
THERE AIN'T NO COMING BACK
WEIGHING EVERYTHING
BECAME TIRESOME
I BLAMED MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED
THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT
TOOK A HOLD ON THAT SINGLE THOUGHT
I THOUGHT
FOR SO LONG
AFTER THAT
DISCONNECTED TO RECONNECT
DISCONNECT TO FEEL
RECONNECTED
YET YOU STILL LINGERED IN MY MIND
I AM LIVID FOR SPEEDING
MAYBE IF I SLOWED DOWN
YOU WOULD HAVE MISSED ME
WHAT MAKES YOU THINK
I WANT PEOPLE TO SEE ME LIKE THIS
WHEN I FEEL LIKE I'M AT MY LOWEST
TOO WEAK
TO WANTING TO GET UP SOMETIMES
I RATHER JUST STAY HERE
FAKING THAT SMILE KNOWING THAT SHEIT
WEIGHING ON ME
FELL TOO MANY TIMES
TRYING TO GET YOU TO
COMPREHEND ME
IT BECAME TIRESOME
I MISS YOU LIKE VACATION
THIS THAT YOU NEED STOMACH FOR
THIS THAT YOU READY HOLD ON
TRYING TO HOLD ON MYSELF
TO FAST FORWARD
I FINALLY MADE IT HOME
BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG
HOME FEELS FOREIGN
HOME DON'T FEEL LIKE IT DID BEFORE
SO I'M ALWAYS OUTSIDE
TRYING TO STAY OUT MY CONSCIOUS
SMOKE THAT DRILL THIS
THIS CONSTANT FEELING OF NOTHING CHANGING
HOME SUPPOSE TO FEEL WARM
HOME SUPPOSE TO FEEL SAFE
WHERE HOME AT
WHEN YOU ALWAYS IN OUTER SPACE
NOT SUICIDAL
THIS AIN'T NO SUICIDAL NOTE
NOT SUICIDAL
JUST CURIOUS ON
THE KILLER ME
NOT SUICIDAL
I JUST MISS ME
Aug 7, 2023
Aug 7, 2023 at 11:24 AM UTC