Comprehensive Revelation

They’ve worked out I’m a cyclist, but not a pedaled clown.

I don’t take ‘roids to speed me up, I use yellows to slow me down

and I need stabilizers still, or I can’t get ‘round corners

without gaining either enemies or self-destructive fawners.

I sashay a land of sinkholes, of glorious gushing geysers;

of embarrassment and excellence in equally enormous sizes.

Every other diag-nonsense has appeared to be just that

but this one fits as snugly as sub-cutaneous fat.

Visceral rage throttles rational thought.

No focus. Too many ideas cavorting.

Spitting out flows to fight my fate.

Racing up and down with no baseline break.

I know it’s medicatable, I know that there is therapy

but redefining thought processes doesn’t seem to work for me.

All this linguistic trickery is far too far innate to me

for all their forms of CBT to make a difference you can see.

I’ll give it another go, you know?

God knows, since the closure of the floatation tank

I’m irrationally rankle-able at an elevated pace.

I’ll go back to star jumps, routines and early starts

to fight off the fidgets, the doldrums and broken hearts.

The mechanics of coping shook their heads in despair

when they saw my brakes in such disrepair

but what state would you be turning up to work in

if your life felt like bungee jumping in a whirlwind?

Nihilistic hedonist, life and soul;

or following the wind up bird into the endless hole.

14/10/13

I feel I am just waking up
from 10 years in Van Winkle dust.
Head is clearing, footsteps lighter.
Horizons wide and vision brighter.
Emotional ballast I've unburdened.
Old grievances I feel I've pardoned.
Not that I'll forget, of course,
But from that me I'm now divorced.

Is this me now growing up?
Or just a midlife crisis?
It's not too young, my half-full cup,
I'll probably die of bronchitis!
Those days we can't choose but to see,
when antibiotics don't work
because no company wants to fund
research with no glamorous perk.

I know what I want and how to get it.
All I need now is time.
And a canyon of work, of which I'm not afeared.
My life will be Reason from Rhyme.

Affirmation

Even in the midst of night
the distant wail of T-Rex's cousins
reach me.
And even when I am not right
and fall and fail I let the lessons
teach me.
And in the hours I feel alone
I remind myself of the myriad network
around me.
And all the things as yet unknown;
Concerns of health and joy that lurk
astound me.                            [impound me]                           (glass is half...)

I refuse to forget who I am.
I refuse to forget who I am.
I refuse to forget.

The Mystery of the Moon

One crystal-aired and clear-skied day
I wandered pondering away,
To discover if the tales were true;
Is lunar rock just cheese of blue?
I asked the solemn cows so wise, but all they said was "Moo".

I had heard told the deep blue sea

Could answer any mystery,

So went and stood on windswept shore;

Begged and pleaded, screamed and swore.

The waves to calm me murmured "Shhhh", but gave no answer more.

I went to university,
The learn-ed folk and library,
But they were in a picket line
With angry looks and waving signs.
It seemed they had their own questions and wouldn't answer mine.

I scaled the Himalayas,

(The grass, the rocks and icy layers)

To see if I could see from there

If it were stilton or gruyere.

Altitude sickness got me first- I need much thicker air.

Atlas mountains on camel road,
With Bedouin tribes and desert code.
I saw the moon more clearly then
Than I ever will again.
I saw how silly I had been and found a peace-like zen.

It was obvious to me

The moon's not rock or cheese of green!

It's each unanswered mystery;

The "what' if"s, "what now"s and "what's to bes";

The gotten undreamed and the great-never-had:

That's why She glows and why She's sad.

Love: All

To err is human, to forgive divine

What course of action will be thine?

Heroic vengeance, stoic acceptance.

How sincere if any repentance?

A tree does not know it is wretched

But wretched is all that I am.

For I know I know nothing and inside that nothing

is the knowledge that all that he was was a sham.

And the fear of losing my unknowing had

Who was there when I called on my way to being mad.

The only one I called when it all went to shit

Who knew of my tears and my chemical habit.

The others passed 7 long years in the dark

As I wandered wasted our common-themed park.

Now this new attraction, so shiny and slick!

But is it honey or venom that drips from each click?

"I've seen love from both sides now" and other songs like such

And honestly for me the emotion gets too much.

I always retreat to the space in my head which opens to stardust and perceptional shift.

Not induced by drugs or anything more than a headache as felt by young Alice.

but I'm losing the point now; my reason is this:

I'm teetering on a lfe precipice

And it's not up to me on which way I will slide.

All engines are dead now, I nothing but glide.

How heady this high blood pressure!

How heavy the weight of the world!

In this humidity, no wonder my hair is starting to curl.

And I can do nothing but pass back and forth

Like a tennis ball, final, Wimbeldon court

And it's Love: All

No Apologies

My heart belongs to another,
My body another still.
Some things I cannot explain to you dear
And other things I never will.
My life is my life and
Your wants are your wants:
The pair will rarely agree.
So please stop trying to take me to bed,
Pure sex is just not for me.
I require a further connection of minds,
Of rhythms, of values, of life.
I’m not just another ridiculous girl,
I’m the woman all men want as wife.
How dare you think me so accessible?
I’m shrouded in love and surrounded by walls
And all your attempts with be no good at all.
I’ll gift you with nothing but memory’s recall
Of a want unfulfilled
And a woman strong willed
And beautiful, gifted and tall.

Constant Companion

Let me with thoughts just silent be
And smoke this rollie; 43.
I have no urgent place to go,
I’m not alone. I have my Woe.
She dances oh-so-prettily
With outstretched arms on bended knee
But pauses often just to sigh
And if you ask she won’t say why.
She’ll just smile enigmatically
And offer you a cup of tea
In tones so sweet. She’s never sour.
Not once has she been known to glower.
To some she seem so pure and free,
But this is bonded liberty
And you can wager futures on’t;
There is a price for freedom’s font.
In her eyes you’ll seldom see
Unadulterated glee.
There’s always partial secrets too.
They must be kept from folk like you.
For Woe and I, we are a we,
That’s she and I, not you and me
And she’s observed all that I’ve squandered,
Lives I’ve bruised and lessons pondered.
I’m accustomed to her company
And other don’t see her, just me.
With blackened, widened, blinded eyes,
They’ll never see behind the lines
So let me with thoughts silent be.
I’m not alone, for Woe’s with me.

Open Skies

I’ve tried to explain this rootless of times
but all come befuddled like passions of crimes
and all I convey seems like paranoia
when all it is really is negative joy. A
simple expression of gutfelt pure feeling
seems hollow and somehow devoid of true meaning.
You see with this gift of your love and your trust
you left my iron-clad heart out to rust.
Invincible I marauded through days
giving no thought to next week, tomorrow a haze.
Entirely reckless and feckless – just living.
What happened just happened. What didn’t, just didn’t.
I hate you for all that you force me to feel.
I have to make plans now, be cautious and deal
with mundanous housework and bills and the fear
that one day I’ll wake up and you won’t be here.
I’m so terrified of the day that will come
when the imperfect duo of us will be one
broken automaton, loverless lover,
with no one to run to, to hide and take cover.
No sanctuary, haven or reason to be
the people we both urge the other to be.
Soul-image, my animus, all I adore:
you make me feel vulnerable, need I say more?
I hate that I love you. Our crazy dynamic
leaves me open to loneliness, heartbreak and panic
and yet I can’t help it. For all of my fear
I want what scares me. Does this statement seem mere
-ly a flimsical knock-off, a gesture at most,
a wine-driven-10-to-12-red-faced-man’s boast?
It’s not, I assure you. It’s all I can give.
You are my reason to wake up. To live.
And all that I have and all that I do
it’s all just a heart-unbroke tribute to you.
Your patience, your actions, your strength and just you
make me fear for the future. Question: just who
would open themselves to a lifetime of this
uncomfortable happiness, blinkerless bliss?
The me you created with that first kiss:
This misgiving Mrs from misanthrope Miss.