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Idle hands = Death

Callused hands

from a blistered mind,

in overdrive

working overtime.

So naturally

it comes to me,

like a cruising ship

takes to the sea.

But when it drifts

back to the shore,

brings my biggest fear

of being bored.

Creating images

inside my head,

until the day

I wake up dead.

For if I don’t

my brain gets weak,

looking for comfort

in the drugs I seek.

My sober mind

needs stimulation,

as to be kept from

dark isolation.

So in conclusion

or in summary,

I’ll work my hands

until they bleed…

 
23 Comments

Posted by on December 16, 2017 in Mental Health, poetry, writing

 

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All a Dream…..

you said you feel like when you wake up this will all be a dream

when I look into your eyes well I can see what you mean…

how could this feel so good, in such a short little time

well, give me a little more, and girl I’ll make you mine…..

You bring that, summer feelin’ though it’s months away

just seein’ that smile brings a brighter day….

from a simple “good mornin'”

to a, “how do you do?”.

well even better yet…

I’ll drop an “I miss you.”

(.. and it’s all right…..   it feels just right…..)

I can’t tell if it’s something in the way you move

or the way you look back, as you walk across the room

act like you don’t know what you’re doin’

though you do it so well

if God could only see what I was thinkin’

well he would damn me to hell

You bring that, summer feelin’ though it’s months away

just seein’ that smile brings a brighter day….

from a simple “good mornin'”

to a, “how do you do?”.

well even better yet…

I’ll drop an “I miss you.”

(.. and it’s all right…..   it feels just right…..)

you said you feel like when you wake up this will all be a dream

well it’s not your Broadway play, it’s not the end of my scene

but if you happen to roll over and you find it’s not me..

well than shhh, and try to go back to sleep, we’ll meet in your dreams

You bring that,.. summer feelin’ though it’s months away

just seein’ that smile brings a brighter day….

from a simple “good mornin'”

to a, “how do you do?”.

well even better yet…

I’ll drop an “I love you.”

(.. and it’s all right…..   it feels just right…..

cause’ it’s allll  right…. it feels juuust right….. )

 
8 Comments

Posted by on December 14, 2017 in love, poetry

 

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Set in Stone

20171213_070923.jpg

Painting by Me

“Be buried with me” he asks.  As he explores for something more meaningful than a cliche’ and fail-safe question of will you marry me?  The judgement materialized from a request of a partner in a previous life, a kinship that did not quite end so affably.  “To share a headstone with both our names etched in calligraphy as given to us at birth” he continues as she smiles and cheerfully agrees.

“What better way to show a wonderful life lived together?” he adds.  She then chaperones his notions by adding “The true solidarity of a couples commitment” she says in a mocking but playful, overly theatrical dramatization, as she skips about the dining room resembling a waltz.  “Unlike the pieces of paper of a marriage license that can be torn or set a blaze” he says.  “Or the gold of matching rings that can be melted, bent or tarnished, or taken off for that matter?!” she replies making a frivolous face, jokingly insinuating the idea of infidelity.  He chuckles while stating “A truly profound intimacy that is literally Set in Stone!”  he finishes, as he joins her in her waltzy-like romping and skipping around the room to the absent sound of music.

 

 
7 Comments

Posted by on December 11, 2017 in love, writing

 

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The Age Ole’ Cat and Mouse Game

We start our excursion

Prowling around

Cautiously tip-toeing

through the labyrinth

Trying to compile info

Establishing a game plan

Not missing a trick

Contemplating fortune

Systematically timing

When to pounce

When to strike

To set in to motion

The carefully methodical

Delicately surgical plan

As the anxiety sets in

Mistrustful of intuitiveness

We sheepishly retreat

Only to spend another

unaccompanied night alone..

 
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Posted by on December 11, 2017 in love, poetry, writing

 

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The Schizo Blame-Shifting Phrenic

I can only blame myself for what I have done,

despite being easier to point my finger your way.

Don’t you dare judge me, I’m not the only one

that would shamefully bend the words you say.

If we sat down and commenced a game of chess,

I would do anything that it could take to win.

Eventually I would have to get it off my chest,

but only to relieve my foul conscience of sin.

Hello, I am the little voice that lives in your mind,

the reason that you so often feel insane.

However, I am the best friend you’ll come to find,

because now I am the only one you can blame.

 

 
7 Comments

Posted by on December 10, 2017 in Mental Health, poetry, writing

 

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Is Doing Nothing a Waste of Time?

The question proposed, Is Doing Nothing a Waste of Time? primarily comes from the matter of feelings. .. .  Allow me to illustrate.

If we DO something, it is usually for the excitement or pleasure that we get out of it, right?  So for example, if you are going for a bike ride, to feel the wind tickle your face and to grasp that childish sensation of freedom … then why would it be any less praiseworthy if, while you were sitting on the porch with your feet up, you were able to bring forth just as much joy into sitting and staring off into space?

I feel that when I sit for a long period of time just thinking and scribbling, I start to introduce a feeling of guilt or shame (usually if it tends to last for days).  Not sure why I feel this way.  I catch myself comparing my actions and hobbies to others around me, or with the things that I used to do to keep myself occupied.  My battle with mental health being that I change so much, so rapidly.  It’s difficult and often downright impossible to keep up.

Maybe I just don’t want to go for a walk.

Maybe I don’t want to go out to dinner.

Maybe I don’t want to clean the basement.

Maybe I don’t want to…… “DO” anything.

I’m more than content hanging out with me in my head for now.  I do not need a distraction to get away from myself… and that is the first time in a long time that I have been able to say that.  There is a possibility that this feeling may only last another five minutes BUT,  It feels great.  I truly love me today…. or at least for right now.  For in this moment, I am okay with Doing Nothing.  So for in this moment the answer is No, it is not a waste of time.

At first this was just a typing rant, not meant to be posted but, hey who cares?  I’m gonna hit the PUBLISH tab anyways… 

 
20 Comments

Posted by on December 10, 2017 in Mental Health, My day, writing

 

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Keyboard Tough Guys

Foolish simple men acting fearless behind their keyboards,

spewing hate from their guts towards anyone they can.

Displaying their intellect using an array of four letter words,

might as well have a bio pic wearing the hood of the Klan.

*

Their anger inside leaks out profusely as they assault,

silly and pathetic, and really makes you think.

That somehow, in some way, it is not quite their fault,

compensating for where they come up short… wink, wink.

 

…… I have to admit, I let someones words get to me today.  For no real rational reason I was physically threatened by someone here on WordPress.  I commented on a post thinking I was being supportive as I often do… as we all do, and all I can honestly think is he may have taken it the wrong way? (but I really can’t see how)      I now feel sorry that people need to act like that to prove something.  I will honestly admit that there was a long stretch in my life where I was that man (boy).  So I also feel that I can say from experience that, it is a major insecurity issue mixed with immaturity.  I hope nobody has to deal with this guy as he is every bit of the word, nasty ( to say the least)  I felt that this website was a great place for sharing and for artistic expression that truly doesn’t have a place for that behavior.  I’m just trying to keep my chin up and push through and hope that it was just a fluke situation that I can put it in the past.  I am more upset that I let it drag me down for most of my day.  In a sense he won.   I hope nobody here, ever lets someones words hurt you or puts a hiccup in your inspiration to create.   Take care and happy writing.

 

 
23 Comments

Posted by on December 9, 2017 in My day, writing, poetry

 

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