turning point

spinning on high speed mostly out of control
the washing machine failed to conclude any
of its operation according to a wished for manual

given at birth he had not much choice in the matter
due to the lottery of inheritance he missed the bonus prize
surely his emotional mind had often given way to reason
but logic hardly ever stopped the autopilot in his mind
and with the off button defective it guzzled energy
which his thinking muzzled confused inconclusive repetitive

not so much a merry go round but rather a scary rollercoaster
plunging from great heights into nowhere in particular
but with nauseous combustion and vertigo squared to infinity

stop he pleaded and begged for a power cut or the bailiff
to disconnect him from such uncomfortable corrosion
because he himself just could not find the trip fuse
was never able to cut some wires nor change charge or course

inevitable depression provided only temporary reprieve
and alcohol simply increased the ugly voices after a blackout
how he wished to wash his thoughts manually with a bar of soap
but even then procrastination took over and merely smudged the stains

it bordered on incurable insanity but by then he had well crossed any frontier
and to emigrate from his own self required a valid visa for healing
when he did not even know where his expired passport lived a new life

in the past he had paid for expensive medicines kind therapists and doctors
which numbed him for a while or simply passed some time with empathy
yet there was no cure insight no major insight and still misfiring synapses
he joked sometimes that he had seriously considered a frontal lobotomy
but the idea of a sharp instrument passing through his eye socket did not appeal
suicidal ideation changed into self-pity and the machine kept spinning in vain

when he discovered ego-cide and acceptance of suffering karma and gratitude
his life changed dramatically as the cyclones rotated into more conventional drift
eventually he realized he would have been much worse off with a cement mixer
because then the pebbles in the cauldron would surely have shattered his scull

27th August 2024
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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