#303

Bullshit

Woke naked lounging

Knock on door sounds 

Devoted sentients selling fantasy

Door answered buff bound ass bare

Shock and surprise

Robe donned welcomed in 

Selling their bullshit

I, in turn, peddle my wares

Poetry books inspired of real experience 

The dichotomy resonates

#302

Vision Board

Sadness compounded by experience lack,

Discarded for personal infancy, that childish realm

Where dreams had manifest in thought filled fancy

Life moves hither tither everywhere

No distinction, on and on without a care 

To expectation

Coming reality shaped by directed thought

Realization of actualized conscious breaks the downcast reverie 

Strong, unbent, head on a swivel

A mind toward a future across pond and thought

Teaching the letters of his life

The words of his being

Means to end

Vineyard travels

 Experience for coming dream realized

#301

Somber Call

Amber hued sunlight splayed through paned glass

Spilling onto walks and walls

Photons dashing

Sight unseen but for retinal signals in red blue yellow

The gift of sights and colors oft taken for granted

Much as the bright lights in life…

the musicians, the poets, the painters, the seekers

Cry and cry harder as life be lost to darkened madness

Cherish and love all that you can

Hold no possession over love or its subject

Be a light and fill the hours you have with passion!

Fear not to light the pilot of your own being!

#300

Posited Truth

It is dark but for light of lcd screen

Typing the reality of present being

Calmed down fervor from moments just passed

The suck, the feel, the aspect of lack

Remains

Strong enough to carry on

He’s walked this road sixteen  years hence

Tired of trudging the lonesome road

Having reached and sought

A dinner, a date, rejection known thus et al

Relegated “safe”

One of the most dangerous in truth

Choosing to live

Choosing to thrive…

Fuck this city, this town 

Those who see me as just some nice guy!

#299

Dance Card Full

There is nothing like knowing a cry for help

 would not be heard 

Could not be heard

For  reality’s sake.

For love given and never had 

For facing reality with courage 

With courage to tread a road alone 

A castaway of the reality paradigm 

Fighting for a speck of notice

Reasonings lost to discarded being

Looked past and overlooked 

The kiddie table is where attempted sent

Though beyond any thought of conscious being

Where he plays

Day to day

Dancing beyond the unthought known

Fuck me, I hurt!

Denial is over, I am a reject and a pathetic excuse for a “man”… I am a “broken” man, a novelty item. Something to feel sad about and go on with the “normal” life whoever has. I have the same struggles as anyone coupled with the reality of being a “broke but not broke” man. I was injured just enough to make it glaringly obvious I am disabled, but able too recover just enough to where I am seen as a novelty item to ponder for the moment. Never anything more, but still “a fantastic human being” who has overcome so much just to waste it away talking to his pad of paper all night. No one to connect with. No one, not a soul understands, could fathom what it is like to have everything, literally everything, open to you and then have it ripped away and be relegated to the back of the life bus. Nothing but an afterthought, a novelty item to ogle at and thank fuck that it wasn’t you. Forgotten.
Welcome to my reality!

#298

Why Leave the House?
A storm is gathering

An exercise in futility

And so my social life be

Relegated to novelty beginnings

I sometimes hate my life!

Never a chance

Never a season to learn

Dropped to deep end reality

Awkward distance and speak 

Too much

Too much has been seen

Too much known 

Too real for faux reality being 

Silence now the sound 

His mind the only motion around 

Eyes closed and serenity reached

An escape without escape 

Cathartic reasoning