Archive for August, 2017

Psychiatrist taps patient on head and says: 'Have you tried turning it off and turning it on again.'

Therapize me
Socialize me
Sanitize me
Prophesize me
And I will be there
To create some sort of design
For her meaningless expressions
And I will be there
To manifest silent animus
Towards her flagrant love

Categorize me
Emphasize me
Prioritize me
Memorize me
And I will be there
To problematize your remembering
And dance in the face of fervent divas
And I will be there
To sulk in the moonlit kisses of your embraces
And re-emphasize your star-dazzled smile
And I will be there
To miss you in dense forests
And break up into pieces at the edges of the galaxy

 

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easy

 

Take it easy man
No need for crippling shenanigans
No need to shake your bits at women in hats
Or post a picture of your ass to the queen
No need to ramble incoherently in alleyways
Or fulminate at the news
Take it easy man
There has to be an answer to these frenzied puzzle pieces
There has to be a rational reason for the madness
There has to be purpose in fractal craziness
There has to be something meaningful lurking under the beer mats
Or it would be nice if there was something meaningful
Take it easy man
I suspect there is nothing but acres of no purpose
And piles of inconsequential rambling
If you look deeply into the house of mirrors that we call life
And stroke yourself sufficiently
You will realize that your existence is a fart in the breeze

 

balanced-rocks-1

Precarious
Life is precarious
I may start to lose focus
Start worrying about worrying
Catastrophizing and creeping towards insanity
Isn’t it important just to let anxiety go?
Watch paranoia pass into nothing
And be in the present
Not fearing the future
Or ruminating in the past
But applying conscious thought to each action
To get it together

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Feeling slippery ponderous
Fever soaked and paranoid
Not anticipating any anxiety or downward momentum
Deep down to the point of side ways
But aching for synchrony with some being in the stars
Not losing sleep over it
Not persisting for long
Not bursting with intolerance
Sometimes the thought emerges
Like a toad from a pond
And I am overwhelmed
At the thought of all those aliens watching me
Watching them

Fried

Posted: August 8, 2017 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

fried

 

I want to get fried under radiant skies

Toasted like heated bread

Stoned like a rock

Folded like a sock

Smashed like a broken bottle

Trashed like Shane MacGowan

I want to be high like a cloud

Weird like an anarchistic alien

Bent like a coat-hanger

Blasted like a rocket into space

Wasted like a wastrel

Till all pain is gone

And all anxiety vanquished