Mind Games

I think... yes... I think I'm going to not post a poem today.  I'm going to let you into this stupid, screwed up lump of a thing I call my mind for a few minutes.

I'm going to preface this whole thing by stating that I love sleep.  My God I love sleep.  I think this is because everything is fair game when you're dreaming.  You discover fantasies that you never knew you had.  You can also fight crime with elmo and that's somehow ok too.  But when you're me, dreams are not always without consequence.

The best thing about you normal people is that if you wake up from a dream, it goes away.  It dissolves into a beautiful fog of leftover feelings and a few scattered images.  Then you roll over and go back to sleep.  I have dreams of sexy people and talking cats and kicking ass the same as you.  But, unfortunately for me, when I wake up and my make-out session with Tom Hiddleston is fading fast, the dream world occasionally follows.  It isn't Tom that follows me (quite unfortunate) but something else.  Things I wasn't even dreaming of in the first place.  None of them are ever good.

This blog is sounding more and more like some really lame Nightmare on Elm Street delusion.  I don't know how else to explain this weirdness and I'm well aware of how brain damaged I sound.  So, In the dark, you can see all sorts of shapes and imagine all kinds of things in that space between awake and dreaming.  Makes sense.  Your brain doesn't really know what it's looking at yet.  But for me, it's not just shadows  playing tricks.  I literally see things.  No, I'm not on drugs or eating weird things before bed.  Regardless, I see (in great detail) what are described as hypnagogic hallucinations.  Rolls right off the tongue doesn't it? 

Why am I telling you about my freaking sleep habits?  Because if you're anything like me, you find it damn interesting.  Let me explain what happens in my broken brain:

I've been sleeping for about 2 hours.  Getting well aquainted with my good friend Tom ;)  And something wakes me.  Doesn't really matter what because somewhere in the back of my sleepy mind, I already know what's going to happen if I open my eyes.  It's ok if I don't open my eyes.  I can remain in the comfort of darkness and go back to sleep.  But, because I'm a bright penny, I will almost always open my eyes.  And what I see... is never, ever good.  Sometimes there's a hole in the wall the size of a tennis ball.  Pouring out of it are millions of spiders.  They're all over the wall.  The floor.  The ceiling.  One huge surge coming toward me.  Even if you don't have arachnophobia,  that's reason enough to burn the damn apartment to the effing ground.  If it's not spiders, then there's the man that stands over by the door some nights, watching me.  He doesn't really do anything and I can't see his face.  He doesn't try to kill me or something like that, but the fact that he got in without anyone hearing him always perplexes my foggy mind. 

One time, I awoke completely covered in blood. 

Another time I was awakened by an extremely bright light and looked out the window just in time to die from a nuclear explosion.  Keep in mind that these aren't dreams.  I'm awake for all of this.  But not fully.  If this is all sounding really screwed up, trust me, it is. 

It comforts me to know that I'm not alone with this insanity.  That I'm not the only one that sees zombies on my bedroom floor.  Sometimes my mind just can't decide whether it's still dreaming or not.  That's some Matrix stuff right there.  When this first started, there were times where I'd have to jump out of bed simply to wake myself up enough to get rid of the hallucinations.  Now I just deal.  I know it isn't real, but there's not much I can do to rid myself of the fear.  It looks real.  It feels real.  I honestly hope this isn't something that will be with me always because really, that's pretty messed up. 

So at the end of this long ass blog I'm realizing that I have no real point here.  But if you don't have these strange ass problems when you're dreaming like I do, I hope you've come to appreciate that fact a bit more now.  And if I look tired at work sometimes, maybe now you'll know why. 

#13: Composure

Looks like my poems are getting few and far between.  I guess the muse has been missing lately.  Luckily, last night happened and I wrote this down in the wee hours of the morning like an insane person.  Enjoy.

Composure

They see masks of pale, smooth skin
keeping what's inside within
Freezing firestorms in your hell
but from this pyre it's hard to tell

Hide the stars in your brown eyes
Find the scars that mark the lies
Emotion's sting was buried deep
You'll find you bring those tears in sleep

Jars of nightfall, Jars of fears
line the wall of darkened mirrors
As your dreams are going black
tear the seams that bring you back

They can't read you when you stand
No one sees your trembling hands
reach to touch the thick, cold glass
that took so much away so fast

How could you have known the cost
Could you count these things as lost
vision swimming through the red
left this living hell instead

So you stand unearthed, exposed
Find your worth in calm's repose
In this vengeance seek your truth
blows for penance for your youth

#12: White Noise

Chasing smoke with a jar
ever since your pictures faded
and started to blur into others

Trying to recall scars
but I'm finding myself jaded
lost in the dreams of our mothers

Such a visage with such eyes
gone to mist and scented vapors
left me frozen, shivering, searching

So I run with my jar
try to capture what eludes me
someone like you, someone forgotten

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#11: Feathers

Kisses
and just a brush of skin.
Barely there, like soft fur.
Hot breath moving slowly
down, down my neck
like white feathers.
Then lips, your lips
gentle velvet
sucking venom from my veins
add sweet drugs to my brain.

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#10 Untitled

You are my perfect pain.
A slow, dull ache that happily resides in the dark chambers of my heart.
It hurts.
It's distracting, unfocusing.
You're maddening as I hold you close.
Like an itch, a fever that can't be ignored.

I cannot sleep for you are the robber of dreams.
An incense-scented insomnia.
When I wake, you are my beautiful, beautiful hallucination.
Seen and never touched.
You are my lovely, self-inflicted, perfect pain.

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#9: A Poem by 2 of us

So, me and my friend Brandon wrote this together, taking turns line by line.  I think shared stuff like this is really awesome.  I don't remember who wrote what...

It seems you love me,
but only in dreams.
As you drift, my name lingers
on your soft lips.
Seems I'm enough to fill your head
with subtle wonders like a kiss.
Is it really me that makes you burn?
That has set your dreams ablaze?
I've set this fire
that you cannot tame.
No matter how hard you try.
The water fails, turns to steam,
and I'm still left standing.
Burned and branded,
permanent. 
Oh, how it must drive you mad.
Yes, you love me, but only in dreams.
So sleep my dear and dream what you do.
Think of me and that fire within.
When you wake, the flames will die
and you'll still be left wondering why.

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#8: Not really a poem...

Though not a poem, I wrote this at a time when I'd made my world dark.

I left in the morning. Gone to nowhere. When they'll start to call, I won't answer. I began planning my demise because it comforts me with it's familiarity. It's what I do.What I've always done. I glanced behind me, making sure my sins were still in the backseat. A sigh of relief and car exhaust. It was then that I breathed in deep to clear my mind of all I was about to destroy. I would burn everything to the ground in this moment of soullessness .  Watch it die. And smile and sit back. Enjoy the fucking ride.

I went with you because I always will; though it mutilates and changes me.  You turn me to dust. But you know I'll keep coming back. Every time. Like a sickness I can't shake.

Delirious and sweating, I rode a carousel. And we went round and around and around. Each turn took something from me.  You laughed a bright shiny laugh. I forgot who I was. Then the music faded. We left our ride.

Back in the car, I watched the rearview when you and my sins began to fight it out.  I wondered who would eventually win.  I kept driving.

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#7. Comets

To the end,
to this world
this doomed life.
All I have fought for
and the things I haven't.
Words I've written
or spoken or thought
will be lost.
With you.
Me.
With everyone
and everything else.

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#6: A really Short Poem

Snow scented sunset
Pink death of days
I left you to forget
My cold, frozen ways

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#5

When he dreams
He dreams of green.
Not like the ashen
Things of this world.
Of happier times
When things were clean
And our sad sorry souls
Would radiate, gleam.
Scars not yet cuts
Thoughts not yet tears.
Oh God
I wish I could go with him.

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Poem #4: Self Destruct

It's the possibilities
And the wondering...
Sweet intoxicating rushes
 Laced with poison.
 Though it may kill me,
This thought lives.
 If I let you in,
If my thoughts betray,
All is lost.
All is dust.
 Immortalized in heart
Confronting what if.
Dreaming things I dare not,
No, I dare not.
Why have you come back
When I so carefully hid you away?
 In the darkest corner of my mind
There you lie captive,
Chained.
 Safely domesticated.
 Keys to such chains are heavy.
 Keys to such chains
Should be lost,
Forgotten.
 But even now, I have but one
 Held in my trembling hand
 I kneel and wonder...
 If I step forward,
What would I do?
 Could I do it...
Would I set you free...?

Poem #3: What it is to drown

Bomb shelter ambiguities
Blue blanket tunnels
Lead me here again
To you
With bulletproof eyes
Blue like maelstrom
Or were they brown-
Warm and cappuccino
Is it you
Pulling me under
With blue whirlpool eyes
And tempest soul
Down into blue blanket tunnels
I drown willingly

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Poem #2: On the Radio

Under dim lighting
And the strong sultry smell of coffee
He tells us stories of graffiti
Tic-tac kisses
The piece of heart she left with

I feel dull pain
when I close my starry eyes
And drift about on his black, sad sea
And remember all he wants to forget
I remember
I drift

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Poem One of Oh So Many

Come here for a kiss
Appearing dismiss
The shape of your brow
How it leads me to hell
Tell me now
These stories you sell
Show me now
Those horrors you tell
Until they are mine
Sweet searing divine

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Re-vamping

Well blog... it's been a year since I've ranted and raved and put anything on your pages.  This is quite sad.  So, what I've decided is to turn you mostly into a poetry blog.

I don't have much to say these days in words that aren't poetry.  Maybe I'll have an insight now and again, but that's why I keep a journal. 

So, brace yourself.  Poetry madness is coming. 

Poetry Madness

It's been a while blog. And by a while, I mean months. I'm sorry. Poor, poor neglected blog. Here, have some poetry.

Today looks like orange

and I like it that way.

With summer fading

and buttons in my pocket.

A sun-swelled brain

and the taste of you

on my lips.

And I'm all caught in light.

An orange, tangerine light.

I could sing.

Fly.

Burst into flames

and let the light take me.

This orange, tangerine light.

Doomed

I have some cynical-ness to share. I try to be somewhere blissfully in the middle of optimism and pessimism. I suppose that would be realism. So, from my realist point of view, I think I'll talk about the earth today. I see lots of books about pollution and living green and all that stuff and wonder to myself: are we screwed? If I, personally, do everything in my power to live green... recycle, compost, change my lightbulbs... does it make any impact? Really? I think the answer is no.

The amount of people it would take to make a global impact on pollution is in the billions. Even if all of China decided to start living green 100%, the amount of pollution from the rest of the world would remain staggering. I know that change starts with individuals. It's important to not be personally irresponsible. But I've got to wonder if we're just doomed in the end as far as the environment goes. We've done so much damage in a mere 200 years, and it just accelerates. Some countries are poor and the technology needed to clean everything up and reuse materials just isn't available.

It makes me so sad... so horribly sad when I learn about things like garbage dumped in the ocean. Daily. Or how some soil is irreversibly tainted and won't be able to sustain life again for thousands of years. If mankind lives long enough, what will the future look like? Are we going to be able to clean things up, or will the population be so out of control that it'll be a world like Wall-E? Buried in garbage on a sterile world. We'll either have to leave, or most of us will die.

This is completely grim and I understand that. But humans suck. I suppose it's in our nature to destroy... even if it means destroying our only home. I think from a religious stand point the earth will end. It needs to end. Especially if things continue to deteriorate. But it won't be THE end. God has a plan through all this mess we've created for ourselves. This polluted, corrupted earth will give way to something else. Something better. Something eternal. This is my hope for the earth and for those of us who truly care about it.

Marriage... slavery. Same thing.

Some wonderful strangeness has happened. It boggles the mind and disrupts the universe and resides on the ring finger of my left hand. It's not this ring that makes my brain smoke, it's more what it represents. It seems very strange to me that I'm engaged. That someone actually wants to be with me for the rest of my life baffles me. Sometimes, I don't even want to be with me for the rest of my life. I drive myself nuts.

Some people view marriage as slavery. Game over. Especially guys. But it really shouldn't be like that. Marriage should be a blessing. I know, that's a cliche, but it's true. It shouldn't be a burden to spend the rest of your life with the one you love. Sure, it won't always be rainbows and skittles. There'll be fights over dirty socks and money, but that won't happen all the time. Or it shouldn't.

It makes me sad when I see a couple who started out so happy and ended up miserable. I don't believe in divorce, but I do believe that people change. To have a happy marriage, you have to either adapt to the changes and love your spouse through it all, or it'll fail. That will never, ever apply to abuse cases as far as I'm concerned, but in a normal, non-abusive marriage, both parties should fight hard to stay together. I think that people get bored. That they feel they're missing out when they commit to one partner for the rest of their lives. But are you really missing out when you've found someone who'll love you no matter what? Even when you're at your lowest? Even when you're cranky or have crusty stuff in your eyes every morning???

Sometimes I'm scared about what the future has in store for my marriage. Will I end up as a divorce statistic? But then I think about God and what He's done for me already and I feel that everything is going to be OK. That no matter what, we'll get through whatever issues might arise and know how to work things out. So I don't see my engagement as a prison sentence. I see it as being set free from the bonds of loneliness for the rest of my life.

Hide the Scale. It's Thanksgiving.

Besides gorging ourselves, gaining 10 lbs and wanting to send our relatives to some permanent residence in Antarctica, Thanksgiving is pretty much a day for reflection. Not your actual reflection... that's altogether horrifying this time of year. No, it's a time to stop and realize that you have so much to be thankful for. Don't look at me like that. You do. You really do.

"But I'm in debt and my house burned down with my box of kittens still in it and my hair is falling out and I have chronic acne on my back!" I don't want to hear it. Even if you were just diagnosed with cancer, you still have your family. If you don't have family, then you have your friends. If you don't have friends, then there's no one to raid your fridge. There's always something to be grateful for.

Thanksgiving should be a day where we stop feeling bad for ourselves and we focus on the things that we already have. As some wise man or songwriter or drunk guy at a bar said: "It's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you've got." Too much of the time, we're not looking at what we have as blessings, but thinking that we can only be blessed by getting more. If you have some sort of dead animal on a platter and a billion sides, that alone is something to be grateful for. Because you're not starving. If you fight constantly with your family this holiday, remember that at least you have a family, and at least you were invited in the first place.

So go forth, my friends with renewed thankfulness! While you're slipping slowly into a food-induced coma, try and remember that you are blessed and loved.

Detox

I was angry. So I wrote. I ranted. Now I'm not angry anymore. And that is all I'll say.

To you, oppressor. Tyrant. Sychophant.

You judge me with your eyes and know nothing of my heart. I can do more and be more than you think. Than you've assumed.

You have eyes that do not see and ears that hear all but me. I have been dismissed. Devalued. Patronized. Pushed aside, let down.

But you do not know that I can move mountains. I can write with fire and create worlds. I can change lives. I'm more than you've made me to be. You cannot define me. You cannot contain me. You cannot supress me, damage me or belittle me.

I am strong. I am smart. I am valuable. I don't need you to prove anything. I really, really, don't.

So go back to your pedestal; the one that resides in a narrow, narrow dark cave, and leave me to be.