There are so many upsides
to modern technology,
like the love for it
& the ability to see
deep space objects,
all the hairs on the leg of a bee.
But the fumes and horns
in abundance
kills the romance
& for that,
I hate the founders,
the founders
of the industrial age
who danced with certain death.

Gifted
Gifted means nothing to people who do not know
I don’t even know the proper definition
Strange that I do not know a part of myself?
I think not.
C’est la vie – such is life
But why must only a few be burdened with this white elephant?
Yes, a white elephant
For although termed a gift, it comes with its own price
On my school’s website, on the gifted page, there is a file
This file, entitled, giftedness; a different kind of normal
Aptly named I think
The upsides? Exactly me.
The downsides? All perfectly describe me as well
My ‘gifted’ friends are just the same
Why is this a gift if it sets us back in our standardized culture?
Sure, I ace the tests, but I can’t start projects until last minute
All because of my perfectionist side
I am a ‘deep thinker’
But I hate deadlines because they limit the
Time I spend on a good, fascinating subject
I’m considered to have the ability to motivate people
But it always comes out bossy
I'm supposed to have high standards and expectations(which I do)
But these fail me when I cannot reach them myself
Causing insecurity
These traits and numerous others all belong to my kind, the 'gifted' kids
I've noticed we're all socially inept, awkward, clumsy
To some degree or another
And I suppose this analytically mindedness comes along with my plethora of troubles
I'm supposed to have many interests, and this is true
But it also prevents me from knowing exactly what I want
I'm supposed to be very focused, detail oriented
But I cannot stand the slightest disturbance
These gifts are deemed part of the 'gifted' personality
Why can't I be normal for a change?
Being gifted really singles you out
Such a small group of us in my school
Almost all are best friends
As no one can understand us better than others just like ourselves
But why can't everyone be gifted?

My heart is a special thing
it can heal itself
it can do many things for me
it can hold my feelings
it can even hold a person!
these are the upsides,though
and with upsides comes downsides
so these are them
it can be taken
it holds my sorrow
and my fustrations
it holds my anger and confusion
and it holds me together

clearly, the days slip past
i nearly lasted, keeping track
tags and descriptions, each one placed
as if a benefit falls upon the lot
for drawing connective lines
god's dead, god's not dead,
i'm god, the god of sand,
ephemera at my command
but what's it mean? these things
take time, but not seriously, because
the sun hits the wax on a paper cup
and it blinds us from the bushes
and so low, can't care
so low, lone, done dead
can't care for upsides
but asides and sideways

What I share with you is more intimate than anything any two lovers can share with their organs.
What I share with you is more important than two people tying the knot.
What I share with you is more special than a few cheesy words and a sloppy first kiss.

What I share with you is me.
You know me inside and out, upsides down and backwards.
Any words that leave my mouth you understand in a heartbeat.
Any time you need something of me, I would come running.

What I share with you is, friendship.

Endlessly getting better seems a bit too tiring sometimes.
You can only look at the world through blurry eyes for so long,
until you start to believe in the blurred carcass of the familiar.
It resembles the thoughts pooling out from the shattered glass,
floating up from behind my eyes
and flows through the room from a dark hole, yet to be explored.
Into the cavern, into the waves.
Into the seams, pulled far by a stretched mind and starry skies.
Pulled wide when we broke up last night.
This morning was strange.
I found hospitality in The Upsides, ironic comfort in the past before the past.
You could never understand, and maybe it was better that way.
But I ******* felt you inside me.
No more, active heart between my bones.
Be calm. Be aware.
Still here, and forever observing the real.

Most people would say
things were better here
before the hurricane—

granted
living on top of your roof
has its drawbacks—

no shade in the day
and no friends nearby—
it’s a ****** quiet time—

things certainly were good
two weeks ago
to watch a funeral step second line

droning a hoarse dirge
down the street—
before this town began drowning—

furniture floats by
on its way out of town
smarter than most watchers-by—

but there are upsides
to the situation—
the view

now free to swing
at its leisure
over a whole city of roofs

spread like Monopoly houses
across the flat
teal-blue board—

small rowboats float
down the brand-new waterways
picking up waving folks

from one roof
after another—
there’s people that have done this before—

the quiet after disaster
expecting help wanting none
and hearing no music for days—

perhaps I'm just alice walking sideways & upsides downsides through this rabbit hole
not a downfall, a ****** to the core of the earth
but an upfall (make me bright, I can see colour & roses) to the dimension
where the creatures have
stainless steel hearts
nobody ever hurts
unless the queen begs to differ
when her corset is revealed to be
suffocating her wicked waist
the jabberwocky seeks vengeance & a chance to breathe fire
"off with her head," is the threat from the enemy
but an escape is in sight
a little locked door
chesire smiles' a menacing grin
a crescent moon in the black night
it doesn't matter where you go if you don't know where you're going
a cake platter with "eat me" on a card in front
home? what is that?
tweedledee & tweedledum
mad hattee, tea, dormouse
and an unbirthday anthem sung
lacking gravity or worldly law
along the dining table for the quirks
and fablesome creatures of wonderland

-cj

Make me *** and I'll come for you, until they pull me down and make me cough out loud. I'm a street named Chance and I'm awful loud, I read right to left. I hear colors not sounds. I'm a maniac, maniac, for Empire Carpet. I've been hospitalized for being honest, and condescended to for living life on the edge, with a knife in my bed, a pillow under my head. Where I've pollinated my sheets with the easements of sleep, and circumvented my best friends just to shake up the news. I've been used, I've been lied to, I've been amused, I've survived abuse, I've been bruised, I've leaned toward the obtuse, I've leant forward for truth, and I've written down my upsides and foretold my mishaps, I'm a backwards commando for import and export of hazmat, and especially bath mats, CB2 or IKEA, Bed, Bath, and Beyond, or just farther beyond. I remain calm, while the adverbs stack in my palms, it's the trick of word pimping to work verbs into adjectives, articles attached to their nouns, an ellipsis or eroteme, a period or comma. I said I am *******, so now won't you come. I've evolved what I've said into parts of a song. So push back on me and I'll push back in you, I'll take your words and re-dedicate them into consonants and vowels. Hang up your heraldry, and never put down your ***. Keep your habits to bedrooms, and your words to never forget.

What Once Was There

Im not looking forward to this day
My heart is aching with every step I take
My mind is racing with things I have to say
I went on for so long,
What went wrong?

(Chorus) I want to keep going on
I want to keep going strong
But now I know I have to let you go
So I can keep moving on
Missing you night and day
And yet I have nothing to say
You’re gone you’re gone,
But you’ve been gone all along

I count the tears that I cry
No matter how hard I try
To leave you behind
You are always on my mind
My soul empty, my eyes dry
I don’t know if ill be able,
To say goodbye

(Chorus)

I don’t know what life is going to be like ever since you left,
But I know all the memories will be kept,
Useless days of my life, spent
As I watch the sun set
I’ll watch the days go by
Where all you say is, “Hi.”
You’ve caused me so much pain
Playing your little game
You’ve turned my life upsides down
Then again you turned it around.

(Chorus)

You showed me what love really meant
For all the time you spent,
Showing my to love,
To get through life with no shove
Now my eyes are open
A veil lifted
Now I have my choices
My whole world shifted
My scars, all my weight
Now I can finally escape

(Chorus)

Even though we are on pause
My love for you will still go on
Before I had no one to count on
Now I have you to lean on


I want to keep going on
I want to keep going strong
But now I know I have to let you go
So I can keep moving on
Missing you night and day
And yet I have nothing to say
You’re gone you’re gone,
But you’ve been gone all along

I saw the whole of the inside of you from the hole in your side.
I stood beside and watched you fight
Hand in hand side by side
I wanted my insides to show
On the outside
Too many downsides making up for the upsides
Everything turned upside down
My insides had turned inside out
Did my pain on the outside show
Your pain on the inside
I saw the whole of you from the hole in your side
I've let you see the other side of me
The whole of me.
That is the upside to the downside of the hole in your side.

I used to hate rain.
I hate how cold it feels.
I hate how it makes you run for cover,
behind whatever you can find.
I hate how it trickles and burrows where it shouldn’t go,
because even the strongest of mountains
raindrops erode.

But rain has its upsides.
Rain washes away the bad.
Rain is like an artform,
expressing itself against the canvas of the earth.
Rain brings people together,
as they shelter inside cozy houses
and the sound of downpour is drowned by friendly chatter.

I used to hate rain
and I think i still do,
but I miss it too.

And today, as I had my head cast upward
awaiting the saltwater release,
I opened my eyes to a sight of relief.
After years of clear skies
and drought,
I finally saw it again:
a cloud.

There is a difference between pretence and adaptation
Your mind constantly in motion
Emotions,
Rising up to the occasions
Changing,
Depending on different sitiations.
...
To the British I speak English
To the Polish, I speak Polish
To the rich, I’m rich
And not just in manner of speech

It's not pretence
It just makes sense
Adapting to every situation
A constant change with diverse emotions
Not just an illusion
There are established illustrations
...
To everything there are two sides
Upsides and downsides
What I call adaptation
Some call pretence
When I give an illustration
Some come to my defence
My aspiration to be better than I am
My conviction to change who I am
Has turned into deception
Leaving behind frustration.
...
The constant changes has its effect
Some might call it a defect
Just like trying to learn 10 languages at the same time
In the end all you have is half-baked knowledge not worth a dime.
A current situation
To which there is no solution
Adapt?  
Or pretend?
You decide if this is a upside,
Or a down side.
In the end, a position you must take,
“I am Half-baked.”

The west seems impossible
Domestic country foreign
Left and right, up and down
Meet and aspect feint
As the universe turns miles fast
Beneath the laborless turn of the wrist,
A calm smile on my face belied by the whites
Of knuckles, eyes trained toward stars and dust betwixt.
I, a mote of solar stuff,
Hurtle past the known outstretched edge
Toward the center of my solar system.
It’s a challenge, a race, a pledge,
To outrun the dark recess
Too heavy for Apollo’s light,
In that impossible west—
Yes, far too massive
Far too massive
Far too massive.
Every move has reached its apex
Bourne tired on the fabric
Heavy lies its form
As I flex
Spreading over pillows, over sheets
And to the navy dour
Of home’s familiar door
Those moments shared by all,
Soft illuming like torches,
Move closer to the center
Where each affect glows like mothlight
On neighbor’s porches.
It gave me pause
For I thought nothing could escape
A blackhole
Once crossed that threshold reach.
Upon that event horizon I gave pause
And forced a humble laugh
To let what’s still
Lay besieged.
Lest it be him
Lest it be me
Looking back
Looking in
Over the veil where one as I cannot observe
Spreads sly reminders from the other end
That has inward turned:
The product will emerge rife
With absurd cosmic alchemy
Formed but missing name and birthright—
What shall we name him?
What shall we name him?
It’s clear these twisted do-overs
That one can only watch
Are responsibilities of life
O’er event horizon crossed
Despite the warnings shouted
The wishes to him I can’t observe,
To him standing, running still become
At best, vicious reforming features—
These turn to doubtful lines of reasoning
By childhood’s chimeral creatures
One can feel its phantom limb
One can hear the pseudonym
Left with little to identify:
So, what shall we name him?
What shall we name him?
Only fools, the crowd of past selves,
Headlong cross the event horizon
And follow north
The stone covered in moss
Till a once around the globe,
All upsides and down, sufficed,
Brings them to the river
They never cross twice,
Brings them to the river
They never cross twice,
Yet somehow repeats the past
As though it follows in tow
Renewed and dilated
In matter, in style forever cast.
No, this can never be, this dark flow
Looks back from impossible east
And returns to the future
With words of warning or of comfort
And all too hesitant,
The future is the memory
Of the past
Lived in the present.

Fornever howl amongstest darkless how that makes one grasp
Upsides down when down has been a view for too long when
Reconizating it in anothers view
Let's say their red ****** swooled
Eggs aside
A grizzly nose a burbank chin a long since washed smell
How that makes a view
Of septic wonder realitating
Obfuckscuating
The governed publicity *******
On a hot day June year unknown middle of somewhere wishing it were Woodstock again hearing echoes of

God only knows these kinds of sink swim knee on neck sarcasm and violence lying loudly from every space time capsule
As

They walk wildly
Around
Lactating drooled ******* genetic mutants
Robots

I'll just take a hit
Now
Thanks

Sit here

Who am I to judge me
if it actively makes me sad?
Why do I compare the
good ones to the bad?

Decide in cold decembers
to let go of the embers
driving passion to result
or decide to join a cult.

Money makes my big eyes burn wide.
Money has so many upsides,
we all let the downsides slide.

Wedge between the parts, divide,
or string nuanced all to one.
The second it becomes too hard,
again, we all just let it slide.

I am the mad hatter
I am the red queen
Im scared sobbing Alice
And everything in between
The smoking caterpillar blinds my way with haze And the Cheshire Cat has dissipated to an upsides down grin that slips away and Is nothing more than a sliver of a dim lit crescent moon
Now Surrounded by darkness
And flowers that bite at my ankles
will the jabberwocky destroy me?

My heart is unpleasant and distant.

Maybe, in a boulevard of mind's musing
And a disgruntled man
This battered throb is a utopia
That is ever for the ample loved
For the enough affirms and all that matches

The flesh of scarcely, it liberates something like;
A melody of lover's sigh
A language only true hearts speak.
A voyage where emotions navigate.

How my thoughts always reign
The upsides wane
Below its pith, to its veins
Like wilted-beat of rhythms or a fainted bloke
That searching for his sane

And every little thing I had felt blooming within
I ought luminously, beyond.

I just sham
I don't.