To spell with mystical hands.
I feel like I’m being gobbled up in a tomb.
I could blink but not in the normal way.
I used to have hands that munched on everything.
I used to be less glum.
I’m a spectacle.
A rotten spectacle with scraggly, green brains.
The catatonia sets in with painted on anger.
Thought they spoke.
Thought they said, “Take your crocodile ears and head home.”
And even my mystical hands took a lap around.
Some imaginings can speak.
I sure can’t.
like a miserable cockroach he wriggled
through wreckage in the sump of his life
bottle in hand and at delirious mouth
in a macabre rehearsal of final strides
what had once been a passionate waltz
had become a legless inebriated pirouette
moribund madness personified
liquified insanity stumbling to hell
with wings of destruction in overdrive
it was a sink hole leap towards the abyss
each jump digging deeper and faster
into the rock bottom of body mind and soul
eventually all music and heart stopped
yet he remembered cacophonous decrescendo
enough to wake up from self-inflicted catatonia
like a phoenix and still tarred and feathered by booze
he decided to rise again whatever the cost
the rest is a miracle and sober blessing and still
he knows that Icarus had pinions of wax
therefore he stayed close to new foundations
of hard-won truths and the reality of his privilege
there is no fire in the lavender skies of February
it is as if all that exists with warmth, light and desire
has fled to the future
it is here that the white swans muse and ponder
slowly stirring in hapless meanderings
through a stoic sluggish pond
it is here that I find myself coming to belong
nestled in the cold casket of a wind still winter
spring has shown its face with flowers
soiled, stagnant and sour
nature cultivates somber green to justify the incessant gray
the mossy sludge of rains fallen in my desolate pall
where there are no colors in my empty heart
for I have imprisoned hope and lost the key
somewhere in the dire fog
this catatonia speaks tones of wretched gloom
that paralyzes with foreboding dullness
its ghastly numbness buries the ghosts that haunt
for gray gives my soul a vapid and sullen vacuity
I tread bent and worn in this wasteland
seeking a sojourn with deathly swans
I am empirically lost in the shroud of shielded gray skies
hiding myself in the mists of passionless pain
I kneel, bow, and make myself into
A rock to ask God,
King of the Universe,
Give me the amateur.
Hear my cries, Lord our God,
And give me him.
I plead, beg, and erode
My rough edges;
Almighty One,
I want this one to be terminal.
Please, God, place the
Obsidian in the core of my palm.
Let this strangeness of love
Feel familiar, once more.
King of my Universe,
Please let him become familiar.
Almighty One,
I swear I will get it right this time.
Concerto D'amor
Whenever I'm with you,
Other things are amnesia.
Every single moment with you,
Suits decades in a catatonia.
If you were Bermuda triangle,
I'd often tread on the blast of shangri-la;
A picnic in the devil's triangle,
Run-of-the-mill than millenniums in ball park.
You're the Bermuda triangle.
I, being a wanderer.
The strong storm of South-America pulling me to you,
And down towards your smile I totter.
If you were an Iceberg,
I'd pull my Titanic towards you,
Rejoicing as you break me apart
Waters drowning the consciousness I'd built.
You're the iceberg;
Sybaritic, pudgy and turbingly symmetrical.
And I lost in the lust of the traverse,
With my patois feels your viscera.
Be whatever you choose:
A stark lasso repressing the rim of the sea?
But by bid can you loose,
Letting your waves gulp my plenary?
My heart through its mouth bleeds yearning,
Of how often for you I did fall.
Christ on a horse! I'm crazy 'bout you, honey!
This is my seven lives concerto d'amor.
19:05:01:16:48
Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral piece. Concerto D'amor.
Hypochondrial Delusion
A mind corrupted canker
Of cystic self failure
Even gastric anorexia
And fluttery throb to alight the fear
An adrenaline generated tachycardia
That matches respiration
And causes hyperventilation
With invasive pacy rhythm
And palpitating violation
To anxious infarction
In schizoid arrest
A hepatic paranoia
of dermal yellow
And lily liver assault
That feeds a life non start
Of malignant low self esteem
A delusional malaise
Of apoplectic panic
And stressful apoplexy
A localized dorsal twinge
To further worry
Lumbar or thoracic or
Renal calculi or a case of
Bulimic nausea and peptic ulcer
To stoke the festering psyche
Of somatic obsession
Embolic anguish that leads to
A hypertensive strain
With muscular tremor and distorted vision
And a full blown occulogyric crisis
Ensued by catatonia
Comatosed by
Psychotic breakdown and
Inactive body systems
A perusal of the medical book
Confirms the diagnosis of
Life threatening
Hypochondria
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