(“I of the Beholder”, 2014, original pen and ink)
My Mind
My mind is a labyrinth
Organic with its tendrils
Flowing like a stream
Following every which-way gravity takes
Clearly without a mind of its own!
It leads me through dark places
And into the light
Yet it never lingers
As any rise in my emotion
Just causes it drop off a cliff
And then I am soaring again
Or plunging as the case may be
It matters not if it is day or night
Above or below ground, in fact
I’m not sure anything matters on its twisted way
But I can’t fault this fickle friend
It doesn’t really mean me harm
As it pushes my buttons and pulls my chain
I know, like an exuberant child or pup,
It just wants to show me what it sees with love.
(9/6/25)
Ive been having dreams of someone trying to kill me
For things i haven't done so now the air is getting chilly
Always having to watch my back is something I'm used to
But now I take it as a warning and a preparation to plan for
My Mind Place
stand with me here
i wish to take you to my
mind place
it is my secret friend
since 1953
together
we scanned the harvest skies
heard distant harmonica melodies
far away
seeking white teeth exhalations
and perfumed eyes
together
we peered in wonder to the waxing west
to the east and to the north
the tremolo places grinning ascendant
above jealous flowers swaying naked
inside the mad sweet swirl
of luscious winds we did see
pastel visions of the dead
inside green ghost rooms
electrified
my shadow
aglow
and bobbing
My mind is like-
Checkerboards.
With organic patterns scattered in each square.
A mind’s eye.
A shaky eye which burns holes.
Heavy breathing sometimes.
But not scary.
Just letting the world become an outline of itself.
Seeing more.
Trying an imagination method.
That isn't like they taught us in school.
Bursts of effort.
Reflected by careful line drawings.
And also scribbles.
Letting the juice of a bicycle create splotches.
Spinning squares can unshape themselves.
And become the vivid version of what a simple shape can be.
I can see faces.
And make the eyes bold and sharp.
Whoosh-
Or not.
I can toss paint at a wall in my mind.
And laugh because I can let the colors bleed and twist into nothing.
My mind has-
Nothing to clean up.
Just take the mess.
And settle it down with deep breathing.
My mind is:
VIVID
My mind is also:
BLANK
And there might be more
It’s pumping…
What’s pumping?
It feels like it’s exploding.
Why?
How?
Nothing galvanizes me anymore.
The atmosphere is calm,
conducive
but not in my mind,
where thoughts sprint like fugitives,
and I cage them behind a silent smile.
I hide under the pretense of joy,
while the weight crushes me slowly.
Night comes too fast,
and the day… it stops smiling.
I keep trying my best,
clinging to the fragile hope
that one day I’ll see the light
the light they swear waits
at the end of the tunnel.
But is there even a tunnel?
I’m not sure anymore.
Perhaps it’s just darkness
disguised as a promise.
Still… I’m hopeful.
If not today,
then maybe tomorrow will be better
for me,
and for you.
But sometimes I remember
it’s all in my mind.
Just thoughts…
spilling out,
loud enough to drown me.
Rain falls on windows;
Beautiful notes on the panes.
Faint sounds of thunder;
Memories flooding my mind-
Consciousness waters' raging.
Crack! Lightning flashes;
Illuminating shadows-
Darkness is preferred.
They asked for a piece of my mind—
so I offered silence, wrapped in gold.
No rage, no clamor, no thunderclap,
just breath unbroken when the world turned cold.
Peace of mind isn't a destination,
but a pact with storms I’ve learned to outlast.
Not the absence of chaos—but grace,
in the moments I choose not to cast judgment, holding fast.
It's the stillness behind my steady stare,
the fire I tame, not the one I unleash.
It’s walking away when anger flares,
letting go of what I can’t reach, finding release.
I’ve stitched serenity from sorrow,
threaded calm through countless sleepless nights.
Peace, to me, isn't some distant tomorrow—
but daring to rest in fractured lights.
So if you want a piece of my mind,
you’ll find it in the way I pause,
in how I fold my fears like paper,
and whisper “soft” where there was “because.”
I’ll speak not to conquer, but to mend—
peace isn't passive, it’s power, my friend.
Saw you just a week ago
Couldn’t bring myself to say hello
Still, you’re on my mind
I can’t forget the way you looked
Hair light brown and eyes of blue
Never even spoke with you
You still linger on my mind
I may not be in love with you
But someday I sure hope I do
And maybe you’ll feel that way too
Not today but perhaps in time
You’re still on my mind
A memory I can’t leave behind
So blue, so kind—those eyes defined
Why you’ll always be on my mind
Flickering lights cast shadows on the crowd,
Each chasing hopes that slip through their hands.
Trains whistle past in endless circles,
Rushing toward visions that never stay.
I stand beneath a single blinking light,
Waiting quietly as the crowd fades away.
No need to follow fading tracks,
No rush to catch a train that disappears.
The platform empties, footsteps soften,
Only my shadow remains, still and calm.
Lights dim slowly until all is dark,
The station folds itself into silence.
Here, stillness holds me nowhere left to go.
One last train arrives, quiet and just for me.
A dream that stayed while I let the rest go.
Written December 19, 2024
Constantly find myself looking for a thrill
Another day another week another year but still
I might as well be right back where it all began
Still looking in the stands for my biggest fan
Nothing compares to the fever dream
Yet I think I might be running out of steam
At times I dream of the corner office
At times I can’t escape the dripping faucet
I lie awake most nights from 2-4
Like clockwork my mind can’t ignore
I’d trade anything for an ounce of peace
Give up a pound of flesh to these mental streets
I know you’re always on my mind
Cause everything is always on my mind
You tell me one day that it’ll all be fine
But until then I might just lose my mind
Waiting for someone to pluck me from the vine
And pick me out the finest box of pine
My heart
breaks within
deep inside
I weep-
peace
so elusive
my mind
cannot sleep
your face
is
always
on my
mind
until
we
meet
again
I'll
croon
this
sweet
refrain
having you on my mind is good clean fun
nothing ever matters when you are there
i am so glad i listened to God telling me you are the one
meeting you has been a true breathe of fresh air
i love how you inspired me to change
i admire your genuinely sincere belief in me
i appreciate you elevating my mind at such a broad range
i am inspired by how much you fill my heart with glee
happy tears fall from my eyes as i watch you sleep
i honestly never think that i deserve you
when i earned your heart and your love, it felt to me like a clean sweep
the top shelf of my mind will eternally preserve you
the apex of my existence is your beautifully amazing presence
Divinely Solidified I Am Being Blessed By Your Amazingly Angelic Effervescence
I would make a museum of my mind
Fill these musty halls with all my people
Every girl who has walked my corridors
To write her piece and paste it on the walls.
Every plaque together, a mosaic
Of all personas, memories, and thoughts
Together an image, reflected back
Informative of me, an auto-school.
Blowing out the dust of unused ballrooms
Broom cupboards and and the back stairs, each its own
Room for machinations, revelations,
Fed by all those who reside within me
My lonely people, aimless wanderers
Floating through the corridors room by room
Their homes are these clustered, open cloisters.
Endless is my palace of passages.
I am dissected in a thousand cuts
Each slice a living, pulsating breather
Warm and soft against my cobblestone floors
Balance of life and rock, they people me.
Voices low and laughter cheerful, I hear
My population all internally
All beings that are me, graduated
Notches on a scale, all playing their part,
Like cogs and wheels they move in tandem drifts
Here in this exhibit they gave me, of
Balustrades adorned and turrets revived
I transformed: a museum of my mind.
Far above the reaches of my mind
A mystery enslaves my thoughts
Entitling a Spector Visual Spectrum (SVS)
Scoping all enterprises of my mind
Enslaving a rainbow arc
Captures in visual power
Catching the historical recesses
Memorable times of speculating
Reaches the final the cranium sought
Still trying to catch up what's taught
My mind settles on the present
recycling and referring to the past
Imagining what flew back
Subtly remembering it at last
Still centered on Rainbow Vision of my mind.
Within every individual's mind resides a poem,
casting doubt on the assertion that each person is an island.
An internal dialogue permeates,
encompassing both positive and negative elements.
As I traverse the bustling street,
I observe others who may also perceive my presence.
Nevertheless, each of them harbors a poem within their innermost thoughts.
No matter where you end up on this planet,
You will never forget where you originate from
A mango tree is thriving in Brooklyn,
Though it may seem improbable.
However, it is still a mango tree.
However, where are the fruits,
Where are those concealed poems destined?
Will they return on the same route,
Will the verbs and nouns remain silent as well
While conveying unuttered expressions?
Did the Pied Piper know he would be deceived?
Was he aware a poem would emerge from his story?
Within every individual's mind resides a poem,
Eventually, someone will understand it correctly.
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