Posted in poetry

Poem

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magic time found a way through

my portals of space

it is shiny inside my pleasant caves

nothing to worry about in here

all is quiet and calm now

let it go no matter what they say

or how they may think

because it’s all in your head

 

red sunset casting silhouettes

upon the trees

i miss the tree that once grew with me

we were friends and companions

but that time is gone

so i must be moving on

feel that yearning to fix the gutters

of my mind

wishing to be driving

on the mother road

 

 

 

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Posted in Memories, poetry

New moon…gone Starman

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Delivered from the earth’s gravity pull

above this world he watches over us

venturing on to new territories

in the dark of night

here he was

no more

delight in all the treasures left behind

beyond space time continuum’s dark star

our musical hero has gone away

where did all of this time escape glam rock?

i am now learning more about myself

every moment on this planet matters

even on Mars

Posted in poetry, Therapy

What does a pen do?

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well it writes words and draws circles around thoughts

what does a pen do?

um, it doodles and spills ink on these thin lines?

the pen cannot do anything without me

just sits on the corner of my bed and maybe it will roll off

falling on the carpet and then i have to reach down

and pick it up and write more

but what else does a pen do?

i dunno stabbing someone that keeps asking me this?

its a weapon to fight off writers block

ideas like to hide from me but my pen is my light saber

that attacks these blank pages with aggressive force

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i force and shove my words on this stupid piece of paper

because it just wastes away until i come along

stomping, biting, digging my aggressive words of wisdom

in between these tiny rows

i squeeze the tip of this pen which is having a hard time

providing the ink when i want it to be read

by a random curious person that happens to stumble

upon this bitch fight between the pen and

the crappy recycled notebook paper

oh how i hate this!

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and now a new sheet for me

to express myself

or at least whatever seems to be seeping

from my head at the current moment

but soon it will pass

and so will my gas

and then the room will clear

but not my pen because i am

its master painter

no pen is useful without my strokes

of curiosity and the whimsical nature

that i possess

what good is a pen without rivers

of imagination?

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Posted in poetry, Therapy

It’s not what you think…it’s therapy

AM I DETACHED?

My
how he has turned into a beast
Always
the center of attention

We are drifting like clouds
Not sure when he’ll be coming home
to stay

Sneezing down by the lakefront

She is taking a shower

The voices are driving him mad
The insanity is there now for sure
Until sleep comes
the monster is allowed to run free

Sleeping patterns are wild
Yet the sunlight glides through the hallways
every morning

Please no more pills now
Yet he cannot discontinue them
The pain is less extreme then some years ago
Trying to get back what has been lost
It’s still amazing to believe
Staples ran across the left side
Now a scar remains
A shaved head

Neurotic
Overanxious
Obsessive
He goes from happy to depressed multiple times daily
The hospital stay certainly messed with him
Yet no one sees it
Invisible pain
Whenever she walks away from him
He wants to cry

Feeling alone
To wish for no fights is unrealistic

Hate to be mentally off
Not knowing what to do
Love is a real feeling
Hating the way he feels right now
Because it hurts
Who is in control of these words being typed?
Can anyone read this wristwatch?

Going from pure boredom to too many options
What to choose
What to do
Weak with less muscular strength than before
Trying to get rest now but it is hard to do it
Needing to be in a safe and warm place
Loneliness is something he is confronting
Patience is what he needs to embrace

When alone
think of ways to help
Distractions that can really help out
Music to listen to
Movies and TV to watch
Games to play alone
Emails to write
Books to read
Naps to take
Food to eat
But most of all needing help

Isolation

Feel like going mad
Insanity creeps up wishing to be in control
Must not let the anguish consume him
Please make it go away
He’s a good and normal guy
Not too many years in a lifetime
They get shorter everyday

Please put me where I need to be, oh God!

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