My mind is made up.
Things are much easier, now
that my mind is made up.
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Life is good.
Driving
through
the falling
Louisiana
Texas
Arizona
skies
and life
right now
is larger
than any
self
delusion
brought on
by sorrowful
routine,
life
right now
is good.
Life awake.
Dream,
nobody is stopping
you
from dreaming,
just
remember
who
to blame
when
the dream dies
and
life
goes on,
like it always does.
Not so fiction.
Not
every
person
is meant
to
stay
in your life
forever,
but
that doesn’t mean
you can’t tell
their
story,
it doesn’t mean
they’re
not
a part of yours,
so be a dear
and change a name or two,
just don’t
spoil
the end —
they’ll know if you do.
Good riddance.
Can you hear me now?
Yes,
now that we have stopped talking.
Good.
Yes.
Things have never been so good.
Conversations with myself.
I try to hang loose
but always end up
twisted, like a
damp dish towel.
Stained and tattered.
Are we really back here again?
Rinse and repeat.
Haven’t you learned anything yet?
Rinse and repeat.
I bet you like it this way, don’t you?
It’s quieter here…shh!
With voices in your head? You’re too easy.
It’s alright if you sweat, just
don’t let them see you turn.
Are we really back here again?
Metaphorically speaking,
we never actually left.
Places just become new places.
People get replaced by other people.
Lies become fiction.
Truth becomes fantasy.
Like a damp dish towel,
twisting facts
until
they hang loose.
War and Politics.
“You’re a liar.”
“No, you’re a liar.”
“I know you are but what am I?”
“Real mature, Dick!”
“Can’t we just play War already…”
“Wow! You really are a Dick.”
“What?”
“We almost had them fooled, jerk.”
“I know you are but what am I.”
Morning musings.
In the morning
before the sun
when the birds speak
and the city wakes,
after a good night
of drink,
the cure all — water
by my bedside,
I listen
to the sweet symphony
in my guts.
Optimism from a Bachelor’s of Science.
Rack focus
to what’s important.
Don’t get caught up
with all the blur
in between.
You’re the director,
the cinematographer,
the 1st and 2nd AC.
I’m no scientist
but I can work a camera.
Yesterdays sadness today.
The day
is cold
and rainy,
the walls
smell
of paint,
a hint
of death
lingers,
my pockets
are
running dry,
control
is
a state of mind,
right now
I’m
out of it,
I bought
flowers
to liven up the room,
they
help
some,
today is
a soggy
mess,
as for
tomorrow
we will see.
The point
is,
that we will see tomorrow.
Words Of An Average White Male 