It seems another john doe
dealing with a loss of identity
Going from ten to point zero
l guess a split personality
Im asked wheres mr alter ego
That bloke where now is he?
As now l just feel like a shadow
Of someone that l used to be
That person l nolonger show
People they don't nolonger see
Because him l refuse to show
What was the other side of me
Bits taken from inspired by poems troubled
Soul,shadow of doubt written end of 2020...
I found the first letter under my pillow,
in ink I recognized before I recognized the words
my own hand, but steadier.
Braver, somehow, in the loops of the y.
Dear diary, it began, in my handwriting,
though I keep no diary that anyone else could find.
It knew things I'd only thought at 2a.m.
It knew the name I never say out loud.
I caught it once, in the lamp-light,
bent over my desk in the shape of me,
holding a pen the way I hold a pen,
writing something I would never have the nerve to send.
I didn't stop it.
I think some part of me left the desk lamp on
on purpose, that night
some part of me that wanted to be spoken for.
It signs my name better than I do now.
No hesitation in the final stroke.
No crossing out. No starting over.
Just my name, sent, sealed, and meant.
Last week I found the final letter,
already folded, already addressed
to the one person I never worked up the courage to tell.
At the bottom, in handwriting identical to mine, it said:
I am you, but the part of you that stopped waiting.
I hope you don't mind. I already dropped it in the mailbox.
By the time you read this,
it will already be theirs.
Why is my face split in two?
A twin I call her
Confident and beautiful
Funny and entertaining
Her smiles light up every room.
A life of the party
Excellent in every word.
A frown I like to wear
I leave the smiles to her
It suits just one of us.
I think I'm not that pretty
The face we share says different
And even when people tell me
I think they speak of her.
I hate when people see me
They want me to be her
They expect charm and charisma
And then my jokes fall flat.
I'm in my head a lot
Thinking how to become her.
Never together we are
Always one at every time.
I cannot talk about her
And she herself can't too
Cause then people would notice
She's one and I'm the same.
A person I created
To make myself feel safe
But then she turned out
Better than I ever was.
But only in her shadows
I find the solace I seek.
And I hope that maybe someday
She's all that I'll become.
You only feel the pain when the blood runs true
One more lash opens your heart
Hear the beat
Thumping
I’m inside you
Cruel
But you wanted change
I’m your alter ego
Tearing down your barricades
Against the wall
You scream
It’s what you asked for
Tears and blood
Now I’m the animal
Unashamed you cry
Your pleasure
Naked and bleeding
You place the whip
I release your passion
You want more
Now I’m bleeding
Walking the line
Tortured in mind
You are free
Liberated.
my alter ego
I neither deny nor hide
I let it loose abundantly
I asked my alter ego
Why I’m so tired today?
It says that’s not illegal
Stay tired if you may
I said but I don’t need to
I want some energy
And you don’t seem to do
Any support for me
My alter ego smiled
Calm down you naughty boy
The reason you are tired
Is what you should enjoy
Your working days are over
And everyday’s the same
Your time is going slower
Your thinking’s getting lame
When with a glass of wine in hand
You let the music flow
You’ve lots of energy, my friend
For what you need to know
You’re rolling in exuberance
Filled up with dopamine
And in this dream so many lives
You lived, and still you’re in.
I was a child, peering down,
down into my soul’s abyss,
a sterile kingdom by the Dead Sea.
She was also a child, my loveless alter ego
a glass jar not even half full.
Our love was too vacuous to harbor affection or hope.
My alter ego, Lissa Marie.
She was a child, peering upward, upward,
delving more deeply into my spirit’s stunted reach.
The proverbial babe in the woods was she,
harboring the dour rude awakenings
of the great prophets and sages.
She stirred in me all that is sacred,
and inspired and true.
Yet her flame diminished
into smoldering embers—no Phoenix rising.
She departed as she entered, a demure lady.
She came to me as lady light,
departed as lady death.
I shall retain my love for her, my
alter ego, 'til my last breath
Our souls entwined
Yet the angels show their jealously
So divine was she, coequal.
Her essence upon me,
love worn weary,
I’ve become one
with Lissa Marie.
I make a perfect dry martini,
I read and write and speak Français,
All my suits, and shirts, and shoes are custom-made.
I own a Porsche and Maserati,
A house on Acapulco Bay
With scores of floors of marble tile that's all inlaid.
I have a staff to fetch and carry,
My every wish is their command,
If I drop things, I just leave them where they lay.
All I need do is snap my fingers,
Someone's always close at hand,
And they look after Señor Jim in every way.
I host the most elaborate soirées,
They're in society's upper niche,
On my birthday and, of course, on New Year's Eve,
Where the hoi polloi and high-born
Mingle with the nouveau riche,
And they're all the better for it when they leave.
This all may seem a bit pretentious,
And I don't mean to self-inflate,
For wealth and fame, of course, do not equate with happiness,
But in my dreams my alter ego
Will oftentimes exaggerate
And make seem real what, to be sure, is pure "b..s".
Together, side by side,
Shoulder to shoulder,
One destination, one path,
Sparkles in our eyes
Winds in our hairs
Two hearts beating as one,
We walked a synchronized walk
At even pace, at an even tempo
Smiles on our lips
Under a brilliant blue sky
with warm spring sunshine
carrying us aloft
on the wings of the breeze,
With love in our hearts
We were poised to soar high,
But then…
One of us went rogue,
became self-conceited,
cocky egomaniac and…
created God;
Fear made the other make the devil;
One created God in his own image,
In his own image the other made the Devil.
~05/08/23
~Contest: A Brian Strand Premiere #1215
The course to God It doesn't come through the Priests.
Jesus warned us that false teachers would arise
according to their own convenience
who would transform the method (way),
jumping over the wall to enter the sheep pen (John 10).
The only Shepherd is Jesus
and his consort is the Spirit of Truth he sent.
The principles of the gospel
cannot be replaced by others
at the mercy of the blind leader,
the hypocrite as Jesus said.
l
PS translation of Rosangela Astral
BY alkas poetry
A friend on whom you can always depend,
To whom your helping hand you can extend.
To you, he is an oasis in a desert,
In whose company you find yourself unhurt.
In troubled waters, he becomes your anchor;
In financial crisis, he is your reliable banker.
To your earnest requests, he says not ‘no’;
He is ever ready to defend you in one go.
Why all this? He is your alter ego!
FRIENDSHIP Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Beata Agustin
Date: 06-08-2022
First Place
I've done some stupid things
whilst thinking I was smart.
Only on reflection
can I tell us two apart.
ALTER EGO
a real
experiment
a dream
with
a different
thread
of continuity
with a direct gaze
still fresh
from interpretation
a
pertinent
idea
revealing yet
withholding
but still
symbolic
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Alter Ego
I am just a simple man
With little education
But sometimes being a simple man
Can add to one’s frustration
Why can’t you be more like Brad
That handsome movie star
Or even more like that guy Neil
In a spaceship he went far
Maybe a bit like Lewis
Who drives his car so fast
Or the one they call Usain
I’m sure he never finished last
Maybe like the guy named Prince
Who can play and sing and dance
Or the guy they call Fabio
Who’s full of love and romance
Maybe more like Elon
Who seems so very smart
Or the guy by the name of Billy Gates
We all know he can start .
But I am just a simple man
With very simple taste
And trying to be like someone else
Just seems like such a waste
Bustling crowd awaits a clash,
Anxious foes of progeny,
Become opponents on stage,
Spotting objects of their feud.
Contest begins with a catch,
First to stop accepts defeat,
Dulcet symphonies ablaze,
Fierce scarlet battle assumed.
Both unwilling to attack,
Wink secrets in blushing breeze,
Flute notes chase violin sways,
Lovers in union conclude.
May 27, 2020
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