Tag Archive | hopelessness

Happiness Amid Horror

I Exist. Don’t I know it! This heat is intense.
It consumes not my sorrow. It savers my soul.
Agony is what I know in this time and place.
I cannot keep my mind off the horror I face
Through confounded incompetence while on parole
From abysmal circumstance. Have I some defense?

I can see through the flames just as they see in me
Their reflection in pure light. They’re taken aback.
Unexpected behavior to them is obscene.
I did wake up this morning. The grass is still green.
And although I’m consumed with such feelings of lack,
I’ve a lot going for me. That much I can see.

Satisfaction and relief feel almost the same.
I have deactivated the resistant part
Of my vibration righteously. Now I’m intent
On that satisfied feeling. I can’t be hellbent
On a manifestation. What’s dear to my heart
Is that sense of alignment. It’s my only aim.

Getting into the Vortex is what rings my bell.
It’s the state where my passion for life can explode
Into wonderful feelings and brighter insights.
Can I then be more open to reaching new heights?
My existence in hell is a brief episode.
In the heart of abundance my true self does dwell.

Out On A Limb

Jun18

Not alone in the forest am I this fine day.
There are others who, like me, are in grave distress.
No one knows of our troubles. Indeed, if they did
We poor souls would do best to keep our faces hid
From the judgment of others. I need not transgress
Any further. Within my own hell I shall stay.

My guts tell me I’m worthless. Sometimes I agree
Just to keep them performing their daily function.
When they find that I think that I’m someone worthwhile,
They will seize up and lock down and become hostile.
With an act all their own, they’re another ‘someone’
Who I must stay away from and most completely.

As I take time to write this, it is an escape
And a respite from reasoning what cannot be
Figured out in my present state which is too ill
To deal with what’s not happening. It ain’t no thrill,
But by getting it out of myself, I can see
From a much better angle. I’m not in bad shape.

Life Review I am going through as it occurs.
Much I’ll get through while living my time remaining.
I should now pay attention so I don’t forget
All that I’ve done to others that I do regret.
There’s a spiritual reason for suffering.
It’s to work off the karma the ego deters.

Life Or Death

Jun1

It’s a matter of being – or not being here.
In one tenth of an instant all life could be gone.
Then what happens thereafter? Don’t go there so fast.
Though the grips of electrons at best only last
But a non-fatal flailing… do curse the new dawn.
Obstacles are withstanding. I can’t disappear.

Fascination I’m left with – it’s all that remains –
For the movement of particles… or anything
Well accustomed to light speed. I live for the spark
That gives honor to contrast between light and dark.
Only when it gets awful, destructive thinking
Leaves me languidly livid – the worst of all pains.

Living just for this moment, relief I do find.
Distraction from rejection is re-translation
Of the latter to loveliness, but at a cost
To the hurtful part of me who is rather lost
In this world become nasty beyond all reason.
Can creatures like electrons be known to be kind?

If ever the thereafter consumes my yearning
For the pain to be over, the present is one
That cannot be mistaken for past rotten deeds
Perpetrated in darkness for my selfish needs.
That I get to remain here, true justice is done.
On no thin thread of mercy I’m willing to cling.

Exit Methodologies

Apr14

A black man wouldn’t hang himself. That would be like
Jewish ones suicidal wanting to be gassed.
Some will hack at their wrists. Others go by the gun.
When it comes right down to it, to get the job done
So that one doesn’t fuck up, it has to be fast…
Like electrons – not slow as in taking a hike.

My perception of self and all that I perceive…
Indeed everything I know or thought that I did
Dissipates into nothingness. I know but pain.
Logic dictates remaining would be inhumane
To the rest of hell’s residents. Heaven forbid
That I go while unnoticed as I alone grieve.

Some use cigarette burn marks to fuck with their skin.
I mean that in a kind way. I would do the same.
But I’ve fucked with this website for too many years.
It’s not quite as effective. I’ve shed enough tears
Speaking out but not one God Damned person I claim
As a point of connection, much to my chagrin.

A poet I’ll still call myself even as I
In one last burst defiant to stark nothingness
That this world thing and all I know is and always
Has been and will be. How dare that I covet praise!
I’m a drop in a strange bucket and nothing less
Than a weary old nigger just wanting to die.

I’m Done With The World…

Mar9

Closing my eyes on this world and everybody,
Then, they’re all dead and gone. Do I dare make that so?
Or do I reach out willingly to those in need?
From my own human nature I want to be freed.
Many things I have done, but I’ve nothing to show
That can make any difference others can see.

I hope this is illusory, at least in part.
Were I not of some value I could not exist.
Everyone has a place and their work to be done.
Doing something worthwhile could be barrels of fun.
No more should I gain from it. The point would be missed.
Selflessness in one’s service is true to the heart.

Worthy I am as others are of loving grace.
In the depths of compassion is where it is found.
I may be disillusioned by current events
And prospects for a future that makes human sense.
Can I let the momentum start messing around
With my health and wellbeing? I’d be a nut case.

Four o’clock in the evening depicts my life’s day…
Sailing into a sunset that’s much prettier
And not nearly as visible as,say, high noon.
Before it sets completely my life I’ll attune
To the needs of my species as I would prefer
Rather than giving up before sailing away.

The Waste

Nov29

That this earth has a death wish seems likely to be
Fundamental to science. A being’s hygiene
Must include healthy self-thoughts as well as clean air.
If I took in my own waste, it wouldn’t be fair
To myself nor to nature. It would be obscene.
Folks would ask what on earth is the matter with me.

If I felt self-destruction is the proper way
To get rid of my problems, I’d be called insane
By the same folk who think air pollution is part
Of the way things just are. Nothing close the heart
But complacent stagnation is to no one’s gain.
But the earth, in its sickness, will honor dismay.

There’s a load to get rid of. A purge of the soul
Of a planet infected with humanity
Is much needed, as psychic waste alters the mood,
When activity rampant is selfish and crude.
Does this earth have a conscience? It’s proven to me
By the fecal earth movement spun out of control.

That this place is a Being with conscious intent
And with guttural feelings of not Being well
Is something to consider since we are a part
Of its delicate stomach. We cause it to fart
In a good or a bad way, revealed by its smell.
Either way, it should spend no time breathing the scent.

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 | hopelessness

Exit Methodologies