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Myself
explored expressed explained
oblivion different reasons
over and over and over again
exposing what I’m feeling
though it never really quite makes sense
unless there’s someone healing
who kind of sort of gets the gist
and cradles their own meaning.
Curtains
in the window
breathe
just as we do
So stop
once and a while
and watch
It’s surprising really
what they have
to offer
Something different
for everyone
only if you care
to listen
When Hemingway writes
coffee
but doesn’t really
write about coffee
I crave it
Taste it
I smell it’s sorrow
And pour a cup
As the morning becomes I
And I the morning’s passing
There has to be a better way
than all this bitter pain
and suffering that after a while
no longer feels much like
pain and suffering but rather
mute normalcy of the day
which never really fully ends
and on into the night
which never allows for proper sleep.
Perhaps a song will help
my friend, for now
I think it’s for the best.
We are all our own genius
aren’t we? Self-help tells us
to be selfless while the world
tells us to be tough
slowly, gradually
like a surgeon’s steel
picking apart pieces
of our sanity like a game
of Operation. We are all
children at heart, aren’t we?
When our nose’s glow red
and hairs stand on end
while our souls ignite like kerosene
flailing our arms in ecstasy
remembering the truth which
from birth was wiped clean
like a board of chalk.
We’re always trying to get that
message back, that message which
in a world or man and steel and greed
can only exist as long as love at first sight
where in the morning she lay
soundlessly asleep, bound to no one
her genius in my memory forever.
So quite literally if you say
what is going to be my excuse today?
— INSERT EXCUSE HERE —
Now don’t do that.
Do everything but that.
Do every other thing
you’d rather be doing.
What do you got to lose?
The job you hate.
The credit you pay.
The fear you make.
It’ll all be there tomorrow.
So excuse yourself today
and see what happens.
We must rise like Titans
and fall like Titans
no matter the course
we will one day perish
leaving only our ruins
to tale the tell of time.
However you get up and out of bed
or off the sidewalk
however you dig yourself
out of the grave is commendable.
And if you choose nothing
that too is just as valid
as choosing something.
I see far too many people
driving themselves mad
with work and love
and money and power
and fitness and greed and guilt
trying to fit into some sort of
idea they’re bred to believe
will fix them when really it won’t.
They don’t need to be fixed
or loved or loathed or accepted.
They just need to listen.
Listen to the air.
Listen to the ice crack when hot water hits.
Listen to the sea spray.
But I know nothing really.
All I know is what I see and what I see
is beautiful and diseased and delicate
like a rose petal or a dandelion flower
plucked from the earth by a child
in the outfield of a baseball diamond
wanting nothing more than to drift away
with the seeds he’s blown to anywhere else.
However getting out of bed
or the sidewalk or gutter is the first step
and the rest well, the rest is just —
up to you I guess.
When you can’t flip the script
tear it to shreds
then start to letter together
a list of demands —
whAt iM sAYIn iz
— to extort the unexpected
and accept no less
than those shreds of life
tell you to deserve.
What’ll it be
said the man
on the stand
to the reflection
looking very grim
sunken eyes
of redemption
come on come on
choose our next addiction
this time though
be aware
aware of my remission
I know I know
what fun is there in that
hell why don’t we find out
it’s either or perhaps
I’ve given you the right
that now I’m taking back
the will to fight the urge
I know that’s what I lack
so taking down the mirror
with no one staring back
the man poured the reflection
with ice into his glass
he calmly took a sip
one more than another
and when the glass was empty
to him it did not bother
just one more
thought the man
understanding his reflection
it’s up to you to choose
affliction or redemption.
Words Of An Average White Male 