The stream (all workshops)
My tinnitus came out in sympathy
When I heard a Mozart symphony
It was like he’d got it in fer me
For the key he used was a minor G
And it sounded like a cacophony
Or the bells of campanology
at St Paul’s Damascene epiphany
which reminds me of an analogy
with the Beatle’s famed discography
“For Christ’s sake LET IT BE!”
Said Lennon to McCartney
And so he did
I opened up that daily page
To awaken my daily rage
I read about our Country’s woes
And read about our Country’s foes
I learned at an early age
That each new day brought a brand new page
I was surprised to see
That today I had good reason for glee
I read the daily lottery page for fun
And to my amazement found I won!
Fraught traumatized wordsmith
telephonic grand slam rent psyche asunder
witnessing helpless cannibalization,
hospitalization, victimization
concerning writer of these words,
and riders on the storm
namely robbing me third eye blind
of legal tender
under the convincing guise of Apple
computer technician pretender.
Buried deep inside
the dark webbed wide world
yours truly sends electronic sos
while being twirled
to and fro hither and yon
seeking emotional, mental,
and spiritual reprieve.
You are one screwy dude
Tried but not trued
Some hold you near and dear
Some think you all about fear
To some you are helpful
as well as thoughtful,
but others will see soon,
you leave no thought room
You are not for the fearful
For them you are their earful
Information watershed
Brains emptied - they had bled!
In my deepest well of self doubt
When loathing becomes my dharma
I don’t know myself at all
Some disconnect occurs
Dissociative patterns
Same old triggers
Again
And again
And again
ad nauseum
Anger displaced and thrown around at random
Collateral damages in all directions
No peace will hold me here
This space I habitually frequent
A resident of my own dark shadows
Phantoms of the past with clutches vile
Old celluloid horrors, flicker away
Existential prison cell of my own fabrication
The only way to say goodbye now
is to struggle with the grief as it comes.
It crests and subsides, again and again.
As it is at the shore,
the surf leaves the sand altered
but not washed away.
A man once wrote a book for his child
To teach him how to care
simple pearls of wisdom
explained by a silly old bear
A donkey who was gloomy
the eternal pessimist
a tiger who was bouncy
whose exuberance was never missed
a wise old owl
who couldn't spell his own name
an evil rabbit
who tried to kidnap Roo
but Kanga saw right through his plans
as we should see through you
then along came Walt
the Garrick sold him right
It came whilst I slept
Without the slightest warning
My call before God
The diaphanous cloud that opens holy minds to dream lingers still
Stark, like light in the cold morning afterglow of apathy and gin
Slim cigarettes languishing in slim fingers
Eyes darting wildly
absorbing the empty spaces left worn between souls
This new embrace is different now, distant
A paradox of entities in flux
Hedging bets against the future with
wings turned against the wind
Hoping for some grand new illusion to rise
Broken soul
Hanging by a thread
The edges fray and thin
And try to mate again
The pendulum swings
As the chimes begin to sing
The clock moves so slowly
When you're waiting for the end
Can anybody hear me
Gasping for air
I'm drowning in my own tears
Reaching for a lifeline
I'm clawing at the strings
Pulling at the seams
Can anyone see me
Send me a lifeline
It's so cold
Numbness spreads
Like a curse
Over my body
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