What. Just. Happened?
I'm still here, in the throes of terror, probably forever, but that was close
I don't know how many more of those devastating blows from life's twisted episodes I can take before I get exposed and everybody knows that this smile's a fake, adorned like over warn costumes on Broadway shows
A mangled backdrop set prop to keep from view that I got behind the scenes woes
With each smile the lie grows
Gotta live with this Pinocchio nose
Black out curtains dress the windows so the only parts of me I expose are silhouette shadows
Like house siding, I stack the facade till a barrier grows
It adds curb appeal and social value I suppose
But for me it's a false face to hide the lows
Getting me through this reality that blows
A life time of running into doors with a sign reading "sorry we're closed"
Hanging next to the mandatory posted notice of demolition proposed
Life's ultimate plan to bulldoze any happy settlement till all that's left are foreclosed burrows
Unwelcoming ghettoes
A real to life Gotham City narrows
Every one knows **** flows down stream and my life's the delta where it all goes
Rainbows triggering everyday psychos
Sorrows flicker by like sickening slideshows
Arms and legs strewn all around, some separated from torsos
From heros to zeros, no back again as I decompose into the shallows

It's basically not a place anybody would actually choose to be
But when it's your own psyche it's hard to see any way out of the intensity that will always accompany insanity
And no one can hear your inner voice plea for much needed mercy
Beging to be set free but this inescapable captivity is your eternity
So wait, is this outcome then a certainty?
A destiny unremarkably average and already planned out for me?
It certainly seems to be
Especially now that I see clearly that comedy lies within my tragedy
But only because hindsight is 20/20
In the moment nothing's funny
A well lit path is not part of my journey
Mines a lifetime walked through a dark ally
The thoughts that emerge from the shadows come in a hurry, a savage flurry of the eire
Physically consumed with how badly this could turn out for me
Any second I could come face to face with an enemy sent by a deity with the soul purpose to immediately end this agony but I can guarantee I'm not that lucky

It's a shame this evil never left after it came
The residual, dry back shot residue stain and remain after every time I'm ******, but those rinse off in the rain that came all the same
Causing me to claim I'll never see life the same
Now docile and tame, a king slain by his own sword, self inflicted pain
My shelf life would be considered inhumane
A body originally set to be a temple now unlivable domain
Why is it the opposite I hear 'em saying when it comes to the brain of the insane?
What I can't figure out is what's there to gain keeping me here on this plane?
An existence broken and lame, no highs, no fame
No title bout, no championship game
I'd like to say it's done in vain but the fact is maybe this is where I'VE chosen to remain
But if there is no one to blame, to frame, to claim did this to me then the chain that holds me here I should be able to explain away so I don't know how to explain why I stay

And I always find myself stubbornly staying in this mindset like I'm developing the onset of stalk home syndrome
Eventually the environment seems normal but it's a Truman show dome
Entertainment at the expense of a grown man condoned
And the freedom shown is an illusion cause there's only so far you are able to rome
It never occurred to me that it was strange to be in this place alone
At first, while trying to escape, I wore my finger tips to the bone
But now I've got it so bad that I call this catacomb home
No land line phone, no WiFi hotspot zone
Cut off from the outside inside this prison of skull and bone
It's getting harder to tell as the problems begin to become overgrown
My flaws are blown out of proportion as they engulf my preset headstone
It seems so obvious that I shouldn't be here, I deserve a permanent place in a corner alone with a dunce cap cone or next to the rest labeled drone.
And I'm pretty sure I've waited to long to atone so the best I can hope for now are some ruby slippers or the larger piece of the wishbone

©2018

It's far easier to hate than forgive, can't give myself a break when the case study's retrospective
I hate that it's easier to die than to live, pull up just shy and see it all fall in and out of perspective
To be here, right here, year after year is the objective but the inner chatter from my dark passenger is persuasive
Life escapes through each back stab wound like a fleshy sieve, how much can one individual give
Just meaningless crumbs aren't attractive, I'm a no good, very bad human representative
So primitive, the smooth brain collective not selective enough to be proactive instead of reactive
The crazies run the nut house and the clubs exclusive, drunk off two fifths, the front doors elusive
I'm no detective, I just hope my karma is something I can outlive

Dark thoughts are combative, my own mind is abusive, held captive with no clear motive
The rush from anger becomes addictive even when self destructive
The me I want to be has lost all adhesive and every step towards a concept that moves forward feels counterproductive
From my perspective I should embrace the paradox, go back in time and hand my mom a contraceptive
I'd rather not exist than to be a relative to this bloodline that feels radioactive
But what's the alternative, trading one mess for another is gonna get repetitive
And every time, the byproduct gets more carossive, the rust forms a husk that falls away exposing the explosive
One that goes off erratically 'cause real change isn't a newspaper, or soothsayer, real help is expensive

Hand me that sedative, this repetitive narrative is too intensive, Lucifer's obsessive and I, compulsive
Destructive to a fault and so one sided I'm not even competitive
A cognitive function nowhere near adaptive, straight to punishment, bypassing corrective
Leaving me to always be on the defensive but that alone will fail to be effective
At least for the collection of the negative that is a bigger percentage of the me that's reflective
One of a fugitive on the run from my formative years, all the hardwired fears still active
Each with a different authoritative directive and all for the worse, who the hell's even driving this locomotive?
My words sound figurative, at least enough to label it an overactive imagination, so creative
But it's imperative that this is looked at as informative, a documentary type narrative

CAUSE I SWEAR IT IS

©2023

What of life now ill days have come
and fate reveals its time for some;
our lives to date we could endure
but now it seems we're less secure.

The days ahead are fraught with fear
if there's no hope, there is no cheer;
although we ride our current state
that does not mean it will abate.

A way forward we have been told
is to accept the common fold;
get the jab then we'll all be sweet
and each other safer to greet.

For things are getting harder still
as this virus they can't yet ****;
it seems we'll have to live with it
making the most of each minute.

The delta* variant somehow
is the one that's so rampant now;
being more transmissible and
getting a little out of hand.

It's such a pity for the race
now this dilemma has to face;
a slow decline of values past
as the future is shadow cast.

Yet life goes on we see around
people are building above ground;
they're making the most of the rate
banks are lending with in this state.

Who knows how long it will go on
this crisis that seems like a con;
they haven't done enough to stop
the virus spreading as we shop.

Stricter measures could be imposed
but that might mean more to be closed;
life as known may come to a halt
and our lives get a backward jolt.

The vaccines developed to date
are only as good as a mate;
they can't stop or **** the virus
but lessen its impact in us.

O woe be told! what can one do
when all of life depends on you;
man's guilt 'n shame have led to this
because of things hard to dismiss.

In times past the same has happened
and life then was also flattened;
it seems that man hasn't yet learnt
to live life without getting burnt.
---------------------

The ride of the seas
in the mouth of the beast,
The joy and release
of beginnings with ease.

You set off on a path,
with the light in your eye,
But when it’s setting in
you’re attacked by a mist.

You keep sailing away,
with your hopes and your dreams,
But the mist gets thicker
and resolve suffers with.

You question your depth,
and the things you can reach,
The path that you chose
and the means that you bring.

If you can persevere
isolated in the mist,
You’re reborn once again
and the light is released.

Now you set sail again
with new ways and means,
On the way to the way
to the life, you have dreamed.

But beware of the mist
cause it’s lurking ahead,
Once again, you’ll be gripped
Once again, you’ll be ripped.

It’s the cycle for who
enjoy experience,
But when doubt leers in,
you’ll be missed
in the mist.

The air seems to have thickened
Since the casting of Autumn's last curse.
Much thicker this year than any before
It'll be seasons before its safe to breathe again..

In adolescence is where you can find the seed
Germinating the withering Tree of Life within.
Autumn's curse changed these leaves
As the last leaf falls, it will be forgotten.

Shedding that final leaf tends to be the most painful.



She whispered softly to me one night:
"Life through Death is the only way to grow."

Everything is hard work
except these tears