Nothing Never Means Nothing

Risperidone

2009-02-22T06:01:00.010-05:00

Sine wave emotions, meticulous abstract thought
A decade of my reasoning wrought
The morbid feeling of leaning off a ledge
Is it risperidone that impedes the revolving door with a wooden wedge?

In the past I was dizzy and more
A warm, safe home, the only entrance, a revolving door
I once was allowed inside by the powers of risperidone
The industrial winter has long taken root outside where I now roam

The desires of Masoch do not reflect the reasoning for my abstinence
For climax being synonymous with joy does not make sense
The sum of my natural states of body and mind,
Will hopefully one day make a new, but different, safe, warm, home of mine

Venice, Michigan

2009-02-22T06:01:00.003-05:00

I find myself on a long boat
A grungy barge
Miniature, not large
Heading towards an abysmal sea, while I'm terrified, afloat

I leap off into the polluted harbor
Outboard motors aflame
“It's normal!” The supervisor exclaims
I find a way out of the water

The pseudo-Venetian hotel awaits
I dry myself and get into a nice outfit
I have dinner with family in less than a minute
As I pass through the awakening gates

The Humble Palace

2009-02-22T06:01:00.001-05:00

Frantically waving, white diamonds on the fresh water seas
A five minute slithering drive form the gravel valley of trees
From the modest palace of nostalgia, the smell of memories
Entering the pristine place long before the jingle of the palace keys

Sitting on a seemingly subtle, sideways rocking chair
The wet, crusty mysteries lie deep below
We gaze in wonder at the sheltering monuments on this intrepid land we share
All while the pink, western sky glows

The dusk peacefully dies as infinite eyes wink in the heavens where dusk now lies
Perishing daily to entice concrete imagination from us all
Constant dreams, forbidden schemes, while I blindly stare at the skies
Biweekly answering the humble palace's clarion call

The Painting

2009-02-22T06:00:00.000-05:00

The painting on the cottage wall
Reminds me that my dreams will never fall
Though the sky on it is grey and bleak
The birds' destination is not what I seek
Birds in the painting fly away from the Spring gloom
Where I would just sit in the woods and make some room

A lake with its little brother in front of me
Refracting the grey sky, a rain shower will soon be
The little pond has a birch tree looking down on its serenity
The pond has it in its eyes which don't see
Forests of pine trees and other species border both liquid bodies
and the surrounding vegetative mess
This place painted here reminds me of its home and a storm
which lingers in my mind as happiness

Hour Glass of Diplomacy

2009-02-22T05:59:00.005-05:00

Swiftly propagating cheers from the army of dissidents
Revolution won, but no one is making sense
Authoritarian collapse brings misguided children staking theirclaim
A dollar for justice, a gold bar for immortal fame

History does not need to repeat
Though it has repeated before
Perverted ideals reinforced with walls of concrete
And nationalism will soar

Reclusive and isolated, however, so strong
Intimidating and intimidation from others force a fake shake ofhands
Fear among the citizens, where fear should not belong
The doomsday hour glass is on the edge of the table, still draining, but a light knock brings it to the ground and out falls the sand

Twiddling Thumbs

2009-02-22T05:59:00.003-05:00

The seconds tick away on the wall clock
As each breath is breathed in a cell
Comfortable yet aware
Aware of everything
Without a scare

Twiddling thumbs only brings frustration
Speaking truths but in an empty forest of furniture
Hypersensitive and alert, unfit for relaxation
Twiddling the thumbs really is the only cure

It's hopeless;
Empty and meaningless if nothing
Angry and saddened if functioning

Summer Moon Shining at Noon

2009-02-22T05:59:00.001-05:00

Summer moon
Shining at noon
Covets the misery of those below
Oh, how time now will be so slow

Quickly but gradually the status quo is taken over by the leaders
Or rather by the one word contradiction, "solutions", of the greedbreeders
The seers of tomorrow
Betrayed and now in sorrow

Balance is omnipresent
Now gaining wealth and confidence is the once hopeless peasant
Opposite hopes on opposite sides
Where the titanic politicians collide

The Next Generation

2009-02-22T05:58:00.005-05:00

Powered youth of yesterday's fallen ideals
Falling in numbers, weak, given meals
Technology rules the minds of the indifferent today
Indifferent tomorrow? The provocative of today will be thecommonplace in future days

Facts are opinionated and self-righteous views
Facts are statistics purposely skewed
The power of one, the voice heard with gaping mouths and wideopen eyes
An underestimated power as tomorrow it may cause mass joyful smiles or dreadful cries

The future has already happened
When history repeats, when the dictator grins
We will know the power of suggestion
Then forget it with the next generation

The Queen and I

2009-02-22T05:58:00.003-05:00

Stealth bares no chance in tyrannical wealth
The immune queen didn't stop believing
The pseudo-immune queen with insured health
Will suffer the indignities from the realization she's a peer of the
poor in the structure of the society the youth is weaving

Money and power can buy justice
And by the same means buy injustice
Leaving the desperate in a desperate mess
Leaving society's people with less

All in awe; the queen's fall and current strife
A fall not from stardom nor grace
But from the finer things in life
Forty-five days is forty-five years in this place

Shard of Glass

2009-02-22T05:58:00.001-05:00

He picked up a triangular shard of clean clear glass
A fist with fury, a sacrifice
Each point comprising a Trinity of reminders, the horrid thoughtssoon pass
To mention it, to do it, is the antitheses of sacrifice

Looking into the shard, he sees his ghostly reflection
Knowing one day, it will be the way
An object of trivial collections
From this side, by choice, he will veer away

The pieces of broken glass lie on the wooden deck
He walks on them heavily beyond the back door of life; blood abound
Wipes the sweat off the back of his neck
A vision of the future, when no one's around

Synthetic Glass Mirror

2009-02-22T05:57:00.002-05:00

Synthetic glass mirror
Will never make the girl disappear
In a fun house full of horrors
And the impotent adulterer it borders

Counterfeit beautiful televisions
Doctors making infinite incisions
Heavy TVs, yet appearing thin and flat
Inciting its fans to do never-ending sit-ups on the Velcro floor mat

The girl flushes her self-worth down the fatigued toilet
The mirror is indifferent, yet in the face of the viewer it may spit
It's only a tool, but used by everyone
And an enemy to the body and mind of some

People tricked and lured into the depths and tortures of beauty
Do not realize that what they themselves see is not what others see
Those with lust for a simple magic spell
Will trap themselves in a dungeon cell

She Ascends

2009-02-22T05:57:00.001-05:00

Fur soaked with mink milk
The young woman's youthful coat, now spiked and sour
Traded in for synthetic silk
She's now respectful of the inferior neighbor's hour

Does she dare join the creatures' guild?
An act of unknowingly acting, and she's kind to all
Her culture and hipness forced to build
Squeezing into a hemp dress two sizes too small

Faithful friends, high eyebrows, wide open mouths, fazed
Igniting arguments full of wall rattling, quacking shouts
She's the ugly swan, and dazed
Are these false friends or concerned friends with doubts?

A spark started the ascension onto her pedestal
A hip belief carried her to the top, cheating
She now descends, realizing she was a fool
But still attends the creatures' guild's meetings

Walking Blindly

2009-02-22T05:56:00.000-05:00

Walking the pool cue plank over the sea
Over the endless sea of booze
His wallet ablaze, in which lies impassive activity
To win is to win, and to win is to lose

A close of the eyes, and still able to see
The drop is underestimated, and he falls once finally poked
Poked not by a cutlass, but by the branch of a rainforest tree
The liquor becomes blood, but he's not yet soaked

He awakes, but he's moving blindly
Closing razor blade eyelids sliced the human cash cow's false, three eyeballs
He has new, cleaner vision, as he unlocks the bedroom door with redemption as his key
He sees his motive, the youth speed through the protective halls

Hobbies

2009-02-22T05:55:00.000-05:00

An ever-changing method for obtaining comfortable bliss
Elusive and slippery
I watch and feel it slide through the confident grip of my fingers
For a moment, it ruined me

The joys of simple pleasures are often stable
Hobbies are supplements for a motive, a meaning
When a person is alone, they supplement nothing
An absent duet, solo singing

Obsessive and striving for phantom-like perfection
I bow down and beg for superficial joy
Which will lead me nowhere but back to where I started
Ecstasy is love, laughter, and peace, and not a soulless toy