I'm depressed about being depressed.
I'm too down to make myself feel better.
This frown is just weighing me down. I can't find
another hue, except for a darker, dismal blue. What can I do?
When feeling immobolized and paralysed I just can't find my paradise.
Even if I'm surrounded by palm trees, and a soothing sea breeze. I still
feel grounded and like no one wants me. I hate feeling sorry for myself.
I really need some help. The things I do to forget, are things most people
would regret. But at this point I feel there is nothing left.
My state of mind is all over the place. I hope I can find it intact and safe.
This feeling I wish on no other. Not a friend, not an enemy, not a brother.
If you could jump into my mind and body, you would feel so smothered.
It's like being enveloped in a cloud and you're mind sadly develops into a
shroud. Seeing, but not seeing, hearing, yet fearing, what others say. Even
though they might be cheering. It feels as if they're leering. From this state
of mind I wish to move away. The hate I find needs to end today.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Lil Crack Whore
Lil crack whore ain't a bird no more.
Lil crack whore don't wanna score no more.
Lil crack whore don't wanna whore no more.
But who's gonna open her door and do her chores?
Now that she's cleaned up she's ready to explore.
Even though she's become a tremendous bore.
Even though she's hiding dark secrets deep in her core.
Even though she's nothing like she was before.
But this lil missy just won't be ignored.
Now she's the woman you've been searching for.
Spending all her drug money she went from rich to poor.
Spending all my money, she's not welcome here anymore.
Spending her days and nights going door to door.
But now that she's changed, she's brand new and more!
Now she's telling stories of her pain and lore.
Oh former crack whore, be that no more.
Oh former street vendor, we know you have more in store.
Oh former change scraper, we love you, in spite of your former gore.
Lil crack whore don't wanna score no more.
Lil crack whore don't wanna whore no more.
But who's gonna open her door and do her chores?
Now that she's cleaned up she's ready to explore.
Even though she's become a tremendous bore.
Even though she's hiding dark secrets deep in her core.
Even though she's nothing like she was before.
But this lil missy just won't be ignored.
Now she's the woman you've been searching for.
Spending all her drug money she went from rich to poor.
Spending all my money, she's not welcome here anymore.
Spending her days and nights going door to door.
But now that she's changed, she's brand new and more!
Now she's telling stories of her pain and lore.
Oh former crack whore, be that no more.
Oh former street vendor, we know you have more in store.
Oh former change scraper, we love you, in spite of your former gore.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Untitled
You're gonna be a success if you don't let yourself get depressed. You say you want nothing but the best, I can't expect anything less for myself or the rest. The rest of my crew know what they want and what they gotta do, to make it through. Not just for themselves but that goes for you and you and put me in there too!
Today and tomorrow might be filled up with sorrow, but don't forget that the next day might be borrowed. Borrowed time, but it could be what you need don't be fooled and deceived. Take a chance and advance. And ask yourself, "Will this make me a better man?"
Today and tomorrow might be filled up with sorrow, but don't forget that the next day might be borrowed. Borrowed time, but it could be what you need don't be fooled and deceived. Take a chance and advance. And ask yourself, "Will this make me a better man?"
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Magnetic Flashing Lights
Those lights, those flashing blinking lights, that I see in the twilight. They attract me like a lost boat to a lighthouse. I still know where my home is, even with my eyes closed. But the almost magnetic force of those flashing blinking lights pulls me in like I am made out of metal. The lighthouse like bulbs are the magnet and I am the boat made out of steel. One would think that I, being made out of steel, would be strong enough to resist. But alas, I have become a machine operated by the magnetic flashing lights.
I sail fast but steady, straight towards the lights. I enter past them, and then pass the darkness, where all is now well lit. Then I come to another bit of darkness. It is a cloud of semi-darkness, where one can see dancing silhouetts, but not see colors clearly. There are other boats in this enveloping cloud of semi-darkness. They too were attracted to the magnetic flashing lights.
In this cloud of semi-darkness, all of us, are ships passing in the night. Some pass each other so swiftly. It seems as if they are near one another's respective side of national waters they dare not cross. Other ships behave as cunning and distasteful as a pirate ship would. The pirate ships try in vain to capture the other ships that refuse their advances. Yet at times, you find two, perhpas three ships that cross waters. They meet one another in what appears to be neutral waters.
Now, this isn't a frequent occurrence. However, the magnetic flashing lights are like a drug. Anyone who alters their mind with chemical substances knows that there are good highs, and there are bad highs. Perhaps that is why me and my other shipmates are so attracted to these lights. Simply the thought of the rush of gambling for the possibility of a good high, or a bad high, is quite exhilarating!
I sail fast but steady, straight towards the lights. I enter past them, and then pass the darkness, where all is now well lit. Then I come to another bit of darkness. It is a cloud of semi-darkness, where one can see dancing silhouetts, but not see colors clearly. There are other boats in this enveloping cloud of semi-darkness. They too were attracted to the magnetic flashing lights.
In this cloud of semi-darkness, all of us, are ships passing in the night. Some pass each other so swiftly. It seems as if they are near one another's respective side of national waters they dare not cross. Other ships behave as cunning and distasteful as a pirate ship would. The pirate ships try in vain to capture the other ships that refuse their advances. Yet at times, you find two, perhpas three ships that cross waters. They meet one another in what appears to be neutral waters.
Now, this isn't a frequent occurrence. However, the magnetic flashing lights are like a drug. Anyone who alters their mind with chemical substances knows that there are good highs, and there are bad highs. Perhaps that is why me and my other shipmates are so attracted to these lights. Simply the thought of the rush of gambling for the possibility of a good high, or a bad high, is quite exhilarating!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Fresh Fruit
Have I become so bitter, that I don't even know when I've hurt someone? Has the same bitterness made me hurt myself and I not realize it? Do I just live my life hurting myself and others? I'm in a dark wet cloud of confusion. Reality and surrealism for me have become one. The images in my head and in my reality are interchangeable. The sky is the Earth and the Earth is the sea. People and animals in the street seem to talk to me. The people I cross paths with in the open world communicate with me, but their lips do not move. It's almost as if they know, who I am, what I am. They want to help me it seems, but they dare not get too close. Perhaps the people sense my troubled soul and sense my warmth, but don't want to get too close for fear of being burned. Now I'm floating, in what seems to be space, an ocean, a cloud, my mind. All is the same, not all is bad, but not all is good. Maybe I'll plant myself somewhere. I've certainly spread enough seeds to bear enough fruit to feed an army. Maybe rooting myself somewhere will keep me from hurting myself, and hurting others. Maybe I can become regal and beautiful and bear sweet delicious fruit for all who want to partake of it. I hope that the fruit I produce will not be bitter. I've certainly left enough rotted and over ripened fruit in this life for 10 life times.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
My Lover Brickwall
My Lover Brickwall
We had nights that defined the term unbridled passion. We’d kiss each other so hard, so intensely, as if it were going out of fashion. Even in the dimness of light, the fire in each of our eyes shone so intensely, and so lustfully bright. When my mouth was on him, our eyes would lock. His gaze on me of glee, made me never want to stop. I loved the way he smelled, the way he tasted, and when I mounted him, I loved how he panted. It was like a competition, the thrusts he granted, that hit the spots that made me feel enchanted.
The next morning he’d awaken me by entering me. All I knew at those moments were that this was how life should always be. After the high of lust making, I experienced withdrawal. No worries, usually a round or two more followed. I truly enjoyed his beautiful smile. That alone, made me go on for more than a while. I would then ask for coffee, or rather insist that he’d make me some. He’d tell me to be patient that coffee and other treats were sure to come. After he showered, I would take mine. At his garden patio, raisin toast, cheddar and feta cheese were some of the treats on which we would dine. A savory meal, almost as good as the treats we had shared on the previous night. The conversations we shared were also a big part of the delight.
As undeniable as our passion might have been, trying to open him up was a sin to him. The tidbits of past loves gone wrong, the music of monsoon’s going on and on, were the crumbs of emotions he fed me, that were there all along. Though my eyes and my smile would almost disarm him, his preferred weapon of choice, his strong smile, would win. I would try to dig a bit more deep, only to caste myself a small bit of grief. It’s not that his tales were filled with deceit. It’s just that after displaying his charmed grin, I knew he would not let me in. And no, I would not weep, but frustrations in me, surely began to seep.
Time and time again, we’d both come back for more. We desired more of the passion that glued us together and was never a chore. Something so natural and beautiful and intense, there was never a sense that it was simply a performance. Only when I wanted to know, what was behind those beautiful eyes was when I began to realize, that that would never materialize. The wall that separated East and West Berlin had come crumbling down. But the wall he had created was layered with emotions by the pound. Even the Great Wall of China historically had some intruders. But my lover Brickwall had been through it all. He would let know one in, his wall would not fall.
I once let my own wall come down. I expressed this to Brickwall, how I felt, and he was like a mute, almost making no sound. One of his bricks must have stumbled, not crumbled, he would not allow himself to miss a step and tumble. This rare moment of stumbling allowed Brickwall to express to me, how much he enjoyed our ecstasy. He enjoyed my eyes, my smile, and our conversations. But no more than that, so that neither of us would have the anticipation of expectations. Alas, I knew it was time to move on. He did not want this, but he knew he had to go along. My lover Brickwall who I had enjoyed as my very own, I apparently had never known him at all. We would miss one another, but we both knew, never to call.
We had nights that defined the term unbridled passion. We’d kiss each other so hard, so intensely, as if it were going out of fashion. Even in the dimness of light, the fire in each of our eyes shone so intensely, and so lustfully bright. When my mouth was on him, our eyes would lock. His gaze on me of glee, made me never want to stop. I loved the way he smelled, the way he tasted, and when I mounted him, I loved how he panted. It was like a competition, the thrusts he granted, that hit the spots that made me feel enchanted.
The next morning he’d awaken me by entering me. All I knew at those moments were that this was how life should always be. After the high of lust making, I experienced withdrawal. No worries, usually a round or two more followed. I truly enjoyed his beautiful smile. That alone, made me go on for more than a while. I would then ask for coffee, or rather insist that he’d make me some. He’d tell me to be patient that coffee and other treats were sure to come. After he showered, I would take mine. At his garden patio, raisin toast, cheddar and feta cheese were some of the treats on which we would dine. A savory meal, almost as good as the treats we had shared on the previous night. The conversations we shared were also a big part of the delight.
As undeniable as our passion might have been, trying to open him up was a sin to him. The tidbits of past loves gone wrong, the music of monsoon’s going on and on, were the crumbs of emotions he fed me, that were there all along. Though my eyes and my smile would almost disarm him, his preferred weapon of choice, his strong smile, would win. I would try to dig a bit more deep, only to caste myself a small bit of grief. It’s not that his tales were filled with deceit. It’s just that after displaying his charmed grin, I knew he would not let me in. And no, I would not weep, but frustrations in me, surely began to seep.
Time and time again, we’d both come back for more. We desired more of the passion that glued us together and was never a chore. Something so natural and beautiful and intense, there was never a sense that it was simply a performance. Only when I wanted to know, what was behind those beautiful eyes was when I began to realize, that that would never materialize. The wall that separated East and West Berlin had come crumbling down. But the wall he had created was layered with emotions by the pound. Even the Great Wall of China historically had some intruders. But my lover Brickwall had been through it all. He would let know one in, his wall would not fall.
I once let my own wall come down. I expressed this to Brickwall, how I felt, and he was like a mute, almost making no sound. One of his bricks must have stumbled, not crumbled, he would not allow himself to miss a step and tumble. This rare moment of stumbling allowed Brickwall to express to me, how much he enjoyed our ecstasy. He enjoyed my eyes, my smile, and our conversations. But no more than that, so that neither of us would have the anticipation of expectations. Alas, I knew it was time to move on. He did not want this, but he knew he had to go along. My lover Brickwall who I had enjoyed as my very own, I apparently had never known him at all. We would miss one another, but we both knew, never to call.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
My Lovely Little Pit
My Lovely Little Pit
Climbing out of this pit felt so difficult just a few days before. I’ve amazed myself, because I had almost given up. I was so close to accepting defeat, and be willing to live in darkness. “What would be so different about living in darkness, versus living in the light of day? I had asked myself.” Believe it or not, everything I needed, or only thought I needed, was in my pit. A human beings basic necessities could be found in my lovely little pit, which I had created. Food, shelter, and water, and myself, were all that I really needed.
But of course, loneliness began to seep its way into my mind and my heart. Loneliness is much stronger than you and I you know. Loneliness can either defeat you and stunt your growth and impair your senses; or, it can do quite the opposite. Loneliness at times can motivate you to find an inner strength you never knew you had in you. That’s when I knew I had to climb out of my pit. Darkness was still around me. But I had seen the light of day before, and decided to focus on the light in me. This light that was in me from days that had passed was shining still! I couldn’t give up. There was no way I would let myself live in this deep dark pit any longer!
My heart raced, even when it was time to sleep. I had to fight my own heart. Because even though we are all familiar with the old adage, that says you should follow your heart; your own heart can sometimes betray you. My plans were still to climb out of this deep dark pit. My conversations with my heart made me and my heart stronger. It told me it did not want to get out of the pit because of the comfortable familiar feel of it all. I told my heart that I genuinely understood. But I also told my heart that although it had gotten me through so many dilemmas; in this case I was right.
Even though my heart was usually right, when I was wrong, this time it was the other way around. It was almost like a son conversing with an elderly parent. I pleaded with my heart to please let me be the one to take care of it. That way, it would remain strong. That way, it would be able to nurture me again, and again, for years to come. My heart agreed, and it allowed me to sleep.
Climbing out of this pit felt so difficult just a few days before. I’ve amazed myself, because I had almost given up. I was so close to accepting defeat, and be willing to live in darkness. “What would be so different about living in darkness, versus living in the light of day? I had asked myself.” Believe it or not, everything I needed, or only thought I needed, was in my pit. A human beings basic necessities could be found in my lovely little pit, which I had created. Food, shelter, and water, and myself, were all that I really needed.
But of course, loneliness began to seep its way into my mind and my heart. Loneliness is much stronger than you and I you know. Loneliness can either defeat you and stunt your growth and impair your senses; or, it can do quite the opposite. Loneliness at times can motivate you to find an inner strength you never knew you had in you. That’s when I knew I had to climb out of my pit. Darkness was still around me. But I had seen the light of day before, and decided to focus on the light in me. This light that was in me from days that had passed was shining still! I couldn’t give up. There was no way I would let myself live in this deep dark pit any longer!
My heart raced, even when it was time to sleep. I had to fight my own heart. Because even though we are all familiar with the old adage, that says you should follow your heart; your own heart can sometimes betray you. My plans were still to climb out of this deep dark pit. My conversations with my heart made me and my heart stronger. It told me it did not want to get out of the pit because of the comfortable familiar feel of it all. I told my heart that I genuinely understood. But I also told my heart that although it had gotten me through so many dilemmas; in this case I was right.
Even though my heart was usually right, when I was wrong, this time it was the other way around. It was almost like a son conversing with an elderly parent. I pleaded with my heart to please let me be the one to take care of it. That way, it would remain strong. That way, it would be able to nurture me again, and again, for years to come. My heart agreed, and it allowed me to sleep.
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