incarceration
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Is my soul so lonely that one conversation manifests into an entire fantasy?
It hurts to know my mind will be preoccupied for ages, but I've probably already been forgotten.
Time ServedAnother Time That I Don't DeserveTimes UpTime Spent Never Giving UpTime A TickingMore Time To Be Hoping And WishingTimes For A New StartLost Everything Including My Heart
My mind is messed up off of whateverI just can't keep it together I am going crazy and I can't find the wordsAre those stars? A place or some birds
I am not on fire but it feels as soThe burning sensation all over has to goThis evil that is inside is rotting my brain I am talking to myself and I am going insaneI cannot find an opening for a way out
Golden boy,
Everything about you is a joke.
But your punchline knocked me down.
I nearly drowned in the light behind your eyes,
I didn't fight it, let you in,
You were never mine.
And so, all is forgiven
in death.
And the decade that
has passed since
your passing
has diluted
my memories
of your gruffness.
We all mellow
with age.
I too, am
no longer as
I am not a Bread Loaf fellow
and I haven't been to Sewanee
adoration and fame
are not my cup of tea.
The Academy of American Poets
doesn't recognize my name,
no MFA
or Guggenheim
Her name is Jasmine, the former femme fatale
who, only ten years ago
was said to resemble
Rita Hayworth in her prime.
But now her youthful beauty
has withered like that of a
wilted flower.
Is freedom merely illusion
like a mirage, so real, so clear?
Do I struggle in vain to reach it,
just to watch it disappear?
An elusive, distant shimmering dream,
promising sweet salvation?
Flowers brighten a prison yard,
where they bloom they cannot know
their riotous beauty quite unmarred
by the truths of where they grow.
Metal rings placed
chains laced
around my
hands, legs, feet and waist.
How many times will I let this happen?
How many times can I let my family
be disgraced?
In a room,
a white room;
there was a man,
an odd man.
This odd man was not like men.
He was different-
What is his reality,
What is his existence? All is
controlled, all is threatened.
He trudges through mud stained snow
I've tried so hard to silence the silenceI've waited so long and haven't seem much but little ripples in the darknessI'm not satisfiedI'm not OK with what I've been taught to think is real.
