Diary of a mad man
Sending out a message through
Somber words I write
Help me find the reason
For this horrid plight
Locate all the answers I can not seem to find
Interpret the true meanings
Before I lose my mind
Look into the chapters of my very soul
Turn each page and tell me
Where I’m bound to go
Hold my scriptures sacred
For no other eyes to see
For you alone intruder
Have discovered the true me
Tell no one you know me
Never speak my name
Stealing memoirs from a crazy
Can make you go insane
Forgive me , it’s love , I’m falling for you
My heart can’t disguise
For your sake , I would fight till the skies , with courage aflame
Through fire I stride .
No fear can conquer , what I feel inside.
They whispers , ‘Such love can never survive’ ,
But what do they know of hearts kept alive ?
For you , I’d part with heaven’s own light ,
Even lose god’s hand if it gives you delight.
I can even win the battle , fierce by design ,
My soul reflects you perfectly fine ,
Powerful , intense spirits are align,
Our hearts forever are intertwined .
Mentally insane person or a wily wise sage?
Alternating between tackling worldly or mystical matters
Diminishing the fine line between madness and genius.
"A Serious Matter" is a free-verse-ish or "loose" villanelle.
A Serious Matter
by Michael R. Burch
Listen, love, it’s a serious matter:
I love you better despite the fetter.
I love you madder than any hatter.
Now even though you’re my chains’ begetter
and keep me your slave with that braless sweater,
I love you better despite the fetter.
You say you’re afraid that you’re getting “fatter,”
but your curves are my lust’s prime aider and abettor.
Listen, love, it’s a serious matter.
I love you madder than any hatter.
When you come to bed in sheer lace, my thoughts scatter:
first to the firmer, then to the latter.
I love you better despite the fetter.
I love you madder than any hatter.
Listen, love, it’s a serious matter!
Keywords/Tags: villanelle, love, love hurts, mad, madness, slave, slavery, lust, passion, desire, curves, lace, bed, chain, chains, fetter, fetters, ties that bind, mad hatter, madder than a hatter
The horizon is a blade—
it glints whether I run toward it
or watch it withdraw.
Each dawn splits me open,
spilling a slow trickle of salt,
as if the sea is feeding me to itself,
one grain at a time.
I know the undertow’s handwriting—
it pulls not to drown,
but to measure how far my lungs will stretch.
Even in absence,
the shore presses its ghost lips
to the soles of my feet,
branding me with wet fire.
The days arrive like heavy-winged birds,
falling or flying—it makes no difference.
Either I am lifted
or I am stitched to the air by wanting.
Both keep me in motion.
So tell me—
how could I curse the water
when even the ebb feels like an arrival,
and every hunger it leaves behind
is proof my compass still works?
It’s February
the soft stones
are still hard
among the eaves
clinging to the river
I always had Angie Under My Thumb,
one day I heard her honking her car horn.
What had she just done with her anger,
my candy apple red vette she did Paint It Black.
She was yelling back at me,
You Can't Always Get What You Want.
Now I will Tumblin Dice for release,
my new car is a big mess.
Her blue Mustang car playing The Rolling Stones,
a car of Wild Horses sped off in a flash.
No more Honky Tonk Women for me,
guess I will go back to my old friend Ruby Tuesday.
After the matinee war movie, we were hyped,
we weaved through small town streets
dodging imagined Luger waving krauts,
returning fire
with machine gun fingers.
Roger said his granny was Bavarian
and got mad at me when I said
they were all bastards.
Roger’s mother told him
that he was great looking,
that got me mad, my mom never had,
and Roger’s mother was hot.
The talk turned to girls.
Roger had only kissed his mom,
but I had seen a girl almost naked,
that got Roger mad.
Years later we had a threesome
with a German girl.
I could see that Roger was really handsome.
She was keener on him than me,
that made me mad at him
and her.
What is "L"ife all about,
many times I get so mad.
Should "I" have a doubt,
it can be both good and bad?
Will life turn out right,
even if we make peace and do not "F"ight?
Could the answer be Love,
making it from up above?
Is it up to you and me,
"E"veryone working together is the magic key.
Mad Little Soldiers
It's Shocking To Awake
To The Alarm
When You're Already Marching.
123...
Line Up.
Pwew Pwew Pwew.
-Gray Squirrel
05-21-2025
It was grandma’s last winter.
I watched her hurry outside
to split enough wood so her old kitchen stove
would burn through the new storm
she felt gathering
along the horizon,
its first eiderdown already afloat
on the twilight
settling over her white garden.
From nowhere
a dog tormented by visions
plunged through the drifts
and laid ahold of her leg.
She hacked half through its neck
and crawled to the house,
dragging the axe in her blood-trail
lest she lose it in the snow.
She bandaged her wound at the sink.
My breath frosted the pane,
and rubbing a hole
I peered through the gloom
at the scarlet peony
blooming ‘round the dog’s matted head.
The thickening whorl of snow
gently tousled its fur,
tucking it in
until spring.
I often think
In darker times
It's pointless toil
Creating rhymes
For what do rhymes
Achieve, and such?
Perfection strives
For words to clutch
Some faint idea
Some headlocked chat -
It smiles, then fades
Like Cheshire Cat
Chasing thought
Down rabbit hole
Succeed or fail
No heads will roll
From bitter world
To jammy tart
Where sweetness lives
In printed heart
No grumpy queen
No neckline threats
Beguiling words
This soul begets
Perhaps, in time
Simplistic notion
Can be transformed
With the right potion
Perhaps, if time
Allows, we will
Through heartfelt words
Our dreams fulfill
Little leprechaun is fighting mad
Irish of course, so big and bad
Someone tooted in his beer
Swung around and used their rear
He’s determined to make others sad
In the palm of the universe, only the mad ones dare to tread,
Mad to live, to speak, to be saved from the relentless currents of time,
Craving everything at once, like a blazing sun at its zenith,
They never yawn, nor utter the mundane, but burn with the brilliance of fallen stars,
Like fabulous yellow roman candles bursting into webs among the stars,
Their light dances upon the walls of my soul, weaving dreams I can never touch,
While sandcastles rise in my wandering mind, without foundations to hold them.
Marble staircases and crystal chandeliers waltz in the echoes of forgotten dreams,
Through the labyrinth of unwritten memories, I roam, lost and searching,
Unaware of the source of this sweet poison that floods my senses,
Oh cruel universe, why do you show me only shadows of happiness?
Let me glimpse the light that dances, yet remains untouched by any hand,
In the merciless universe, why reveal mere shadows of joy,
When my prayer is an echo of unfulfillment, a melody without end,
That is lost in the infinity of the universe, untouched and unheard by anyone.
Life can be so very sad,
sometimes making me mad.
I am missing my dad,
when you were here I was always glad.
At times like this,
I Choose To Dwell In The Clouds~sending you a kiss.
Life can be so very happy,
sometimes making me sappy.
I Choose To Dwell In The Clouds of blue,
up here I have a great view.
I love to see the fluffy clouds of white,
hiding behind the sun so bright.
I Choose To Dwell In The Clouds light,
dwelling here makes me want to write.
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