Tag Archive | desperation

Pony Ride

Things are dead at the clubhouse, or maybe it’s me….
In my desperation a big gamble I took.
Now that I’ve made the foolish decision, I’m stuck.
I’ve grown closer to some. To others, I’m a schmuck
With a streak of incompetence. I’m not a crook,
But I need to be watched now, and rather closely.

Any time of the month is condensed down to one
Interrogative moment as I sit alone
With my phones disconnected. I want no contact
With the world of the living. It’s lethal impact
Feels strangely like rejection by people unknown.
I can know not the scope of the damage I’ve done.

Physical are the symptoms. The tight cramping pain –
Intercellular pillows releasing life force
In the deepest parts of me – is what I endure.
Institutions remind me that I am impure.
My net worth, nonexistent, is now void of course
In a network of gossip and righteous disdain.

There’s a knot in my gut as I straddle this rope
That my feet have slipped off of. It’s jagged movement
Makes my gait somewhat fated to going around
And around as I rummage through my dark background.
I can choose to give honor to this day’s torment
Or to see things another way, guided by hope.

A Spoonful Of Contrition

Jul6

I must know that I’m worthy although I’ve done wrong.
For my soul, I seek justice, but I must live on
So that I suffer vividly in solitude.
All who own me know they have the right to intrude
Upon my conscience all through the night until dawn.
My regret become karmic is where I belong.

All must seek retribution for what I have done.
As my life caves in on me, all that I should know
Is that some small redemption exists for this soul.
I don’t ask that the balance of my life be whole
But allow me the substance to pay what I owe
Otherwise, my existence is much worse than none.

But I can’t get there from here. I know for a fact
That I must have the feeling before conditions
Start to manifest for me. My sorrow blocks it.
How do I balance karma if I’m poorly fit
To function as a human among sacred ones
Who provide my life lessons with relative tact?

Universe, please connect me to all I deserve.
I have no fear in asking; just guide me somehow.
With my head hung in sorrow, intense is my shame.
I hate that I have no one but myself to blame.
Can the Law Of Attraction still let me allow?
Or am I just a screwed one with colossal nerve?

Though I can be facetious in this agony
The damned knot in the stomach is losing its voice.
If it’s silenced completely, is my life ended?
Or will I find relief from existential dread?
Seeing myself as worthy is my only choice.
I cannot turn by back on deciding to be.

The Reason For Madness

Mar28

Many go to psychologists thinking they’re ill.
Doctors know they aren’t crazy. They’re simply confused.
People’s lives become so complex that they’d prefer
Being dead to escape the pain that they suffer.
Life gets too complicated, then folks are accused
Of some mental imbalance and loss of free will.

Because it causes suffering if not controlled,
Inundation of detail we want to avoid
At all cost, as it, on its own, grows and mutates.
Normal people end up with too much on their plates.
The Complexity Problem indeed has destroyed
Many otherwise happy lives… And it gets old.

When a few known catastrophes are added to –
Like the loss of a loved one, your home, and your job –
You may find it unbearable to carry on
‘Til the next damned moment, let alone the new dawn.
Grown adults become children. We break down and sob
Out of sheer desperation while feeling like poo.

So, just like the balloon blown up too much will burst
At the point where it’s weakest, we are quite the same.
The cure for all complexity is found within
Where the self knows simplicity. There I begin
To release the anxiety and the self-shame
Because as things are going, we ain’t seen the worst.

Do I Need A Co-Writer?

Nov2

Hanging on past my world worth, I seek not my own
Group of lighthearted losers. Alone I decay.
One misspoken raw truth or a social faux pas
Once a day should not get me involved with the law
Nor should it take my birthright to be here away.
Nature does still support me in its Twilight Zone.

Gnats don’t help with my writing. They get in the way.
I’ll assume that it’s personal then take offense.
Their obscene aeronautics hijacks attention
Even if there’s no light source. They do this for fun.
They are faster than I, so it makes perfect sense
That for such a transgression I shall make them pay.

While in flight, I can spray them with something that burns.
Rubbing alcohol works well. A delicate mist
Knocks them flat on their asses. I take much delight
Because now they’re so dazed they can’t put up a fight.
When they start fucking with me, I cannot resist
Brushing up on my mayhem against all concerns.

As they frantically gasp and flail after they fall
I now master the last laugh and take back some pride.
As I watch them grow weaker, I’ll spray them again.
They’ve messed with the wrong creature among insane men.
As I see that they’re hopeless, I feel good inside.
After that, I will kill them. My wrath isn’t small.

Do I draw such contempt from those of my own kind?
Do I act out in consequence of being cursed
As a highflying nuisance disrupting the show?
That I know nothing of it causes me to grow.
Someday I’ll cease my wars, but right now I’m submersed
In one of my own making. It’s all in the mind.

Powerless

Feb6

Some cheap-suited-assed bank pawn behind a small desk
Who is one third my age has the nerve to treat me
Like the club I belong to is not worth the time.
Thanks for giving me something to process. Since I’m
To be rendered nonthreatening, then I can be
Free to curse you in ways that are truely grotesque.

One would think that your mamma knows well how you work
Like an indentured maggot. That makes her a fly
With no sense of a conscience for what it has laid.
The dried snot up your nose gives away the charade.
You are more worthless than this verse, yet I will try
To get through to the meaning and not to the jerk.

So, I’m made to feel powerless. Ain’t life a bitch!
I cannot slap the piss from your arrogant face.
Nor can I disrespect you in any damned way.
Pray that our paths don’t co-mingle on your off day.
The McJob you think highly of is a disgrace.
Your engaging their power will not make you rich.

The Magic Realist

A Poet's Path

Tag Archive | desperation