Somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
Don't touch it. Don't say it. Don't do it. Don't doubt it. Don't think.
Somebody handcuffs my steps. Somebody determines my boundaries.
Before I fully understand free will, there is a slap on my head
and phosphenes like stars that command my orbit.
Before I can recognize differences, there is a slap on my hand
right hand, not left hand...never ambidextrous;
and time out is isolation without a trial...and I learn
the fear of wrongdoing
remote-controlling my existence,
conditional on demand, predesigned
An aborted freedom escaping into the sewer
trying not to get it on the seat
I'm the observer of other lives, not mine
tied up and chained, in captivity
attempting to prove an alibi
for being alive.
No one cares
not even myself
Somebody pulls on the rope to swing the bells
It's dirty. It's ugly. It's bad. It's poo. It's sin.
commitments, commandments... Commandments, Commitments
Sometimes deception makes them ring in a low tone. Sometimes
I do what they say, and not what they do, and not what I want, and not what I think.
Through fragments of this duplicity,
and this duplicity,
I would be able to rebuild myself,
and Myself, into another hypocritical being;
and the intentional perversion of the self proclaimed truth,
or the liar paradox,
will be sovereign
leading to the use of tricks and cotton swabs.
When the remorseless hours run counterclockwise,
I would be happy through imaginary experiences,
consistently believed to be true.
Would I dare to examine the society in which I've been educated and raised?
Would I dare rip my skin...my flesh off of my bones?
How could I blame them? How could I possibly judge them?
Order and obedience in confabulation...in conspiracy...in complicity
If somebody keeps pulling on the rope to swing the bells
If I'm the only one guarding my own cell
If I'm the jailer, and the convict, and the crime.
I went to my closet
To pick out a mask
Many to choose from
Am I up for the task?
The image of sensitivity
Or do I want to appear strong
Maybe the mask of co-operation
I can pretend to get along
Do I dare go with ugly
Can I pull off being mean?
Perhaps I can go with sexy
Or try dawning obscene
This mask that is two faced
I have had it on before
It got me in trouble
I won't wear it any more
What about pious
The mask of a saint
Or maybe this clown
Colored with paint
I wouldn't mind being a hero
At least for one day
I could be a philosopher
If I had something to say
All of these masks
Here in my pile
I think I will discard them
Just be myself for a while
dripping with Arsenic
and aimed at my heart
spitting out darts and swords
that expertly find their mark
and draw blood
when aimed at others
are carried by Pixies
with honey and sugar coatings
that melt in their ears
and taste of confection
cloak me in pain and guilt
for undone atrocities
and imagined factors
as your blame
riddles my soul
causing it to
prune, wither, and crust
accusing, spiteful, degrading, malicious
paintings of what I once thought
was an indestructible bond of Love
that no one
should be able to destroy
you do so
with your words.
I've no soul left
no appetite for your touch
no desire to want for anything
to become deaf
so I will no longer
have to listen to
Sometimes within the walls of today
We simply search for another way
To make this day all it should be
I must learn to live eternally
A blessing given or one took
I live my life inside a book
Each new day is another page
I sit in the circle and burn my sage
Asking Grandfather to help me see
Exactly what a true man should be
With the blood of an Indian and of a white
Life is most certainly a spiritual fight
Half of me hates how the other half-lives
The white man took all the Indian gives
Then the white man decided to take some more
Slaughtered the Indians from shore to shore
Brought an end to a beautiful way of life
“We will kill the man and rape the wife”
They called us heathens but don’t you know
Was the white man that had a heathen’s soul
Half and half, the blood of a breed
Poisoned by a white mans seed
It’s my Indian half I love the most
My white half is turning into a ghost
Through my veins flows the blood of a brave
Though I lived my life as my white halves slave
Jesus Christ, nailed to the cross for me
Now my Indian half enjoys living free
Though freedom is a frame of mind
In the circle of life it’s truth I find
With each new poem I’m able to see
A little bit deeper up inside of me
Which enables my soul to truly live
Making my heart strong enough to give
All the faith that is found in a seed
I reckon half and half, is good breed
Posted in respects to James Fraser
I do not know?
I wish I knew how, had ability to turn
away from you and not look back to see if it
affected you, my turning away, walking off.
I want you to miss this, and I fail to pass off
the distance as a gravely unfortunate turn
of events, see truth within desperation, it
blinds, consumes, and (I hate to, but) I admit it
impossible to justify the breaking off
of any contact to once again inward turn.
I want to reach within, find this, and turn it off.
I do not know?
There it is again
Bubbling up from within
Wretched wrath washing over me
Vile disgusting filth freely flowing
Angry demons seizing control
Forced attrition to evil urges
Rants of rage
Watched from within
Unable to soothe the beast
Surrender to aggression
Until the bile is expelled
Vomited forth in fury
Leaving only the bitter tastes
Of regret and sorrow
Madness, the Hatter blinks.
Madness, Oz's link.
Repercussions of concussions.
Madness was Portnoy's complaint**,
Madness must reciprocate!
Hallucinations filter by....
Leary* winks at Dali's eye.
A house lands on Dorothy's thighs...
Chicken Little wanders by.
"Madness," Hitler's honcho’s sneer.
Madness splices genes with fear.
"Lobotomize!" becomes the cheer.
Kellogg’s* enema's find waiting rears.
"Are you the ass? Or is it me?
Have I ears and a nose? What do you see?"
"Hehawww," said Pinocchio's friends.
"Heeehaw," said Darwin* back again.
Round and round went Steven Hawkings*.
"Madness," said Lenore's raven* squawking.
"Madness," said Einstein* in a blink.
"Reciprocate!," said the missing link.
Reference Poem Knock Knock by The Archaic Poet - topic madness
* Art by Salvador Dali
* Portnoy's Complaint by Phillip Roth states
if you know you are crazy than you must be sane.
* Timothy Leary explored LSD and other hallucinogenic drugs.
* Kellog [of cereal fame] proposed enema's as the cure to
all health ills, plus loads of sex!
* Darwin proposed man evolved from apes.
* Edgar Allen Poe was mad when he wrote The Raven.
* Einstein had aspergers syndrome a type of
* Steven Hawkings is a wheelchair bound scientist who autism.
extrapolates on the edge of mathematical reality.
When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...
I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky
The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn
I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe
The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul
Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through
Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost
I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art
As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow
Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place
The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost
Day was Life,Night is Death
And the latter has given counsel on my final steps
My heart skips a few beats
before I realize that I’m not breathing.
Am I dying? I ask myself
but there is no response
Is this the end?
I close my eyes
It feels so much like falling
much like suffocating
much like nothing
I don’t know what’s going on around me
all I know is that I just felt a breath leave me
my eyes fly open and see the people around me
My heart must be beating
I don’t know if this is a reality
or if I’m dreaming
All I know is I hear screaming
Then I realize
It’s coming from me
Out of my lungs
Through my mouth
Out into the already intoxicated air
I don’t know if this is a reality
Or if I’m dreaming
I need you to be stronger
I need you to never be afraid
swallow your pride,and your flight will be softer
tell her you love her,even if it hurts
Grab onto your dream and live it
Do not be afraid of the sun's divinity
Be better,love more, hold on.
Enjoy every stop of the ride.
For when the train finally stops...we die
Until we witness the angels dance after final day...
Dear Me, hide your fears away