Oy Vey!

Living as The great pretender is a worrisome detailed directive.
Mimicking and foretelling and imagining desired responses...
posturing for false posterity, immodestly boasting nonexistent
skills lying about well being and excusing inabilities with elaborate
fabrications we invent ourselves normal and illustrious
for the truth is too much to bear.


Not just for me.

Master illusionist seems to be in high demand.
The truth sends people skipping and stammering and
running for safe hiding.
Avoidant glances and excused absences and
hastily curtailed conversations ensue.


Your words confuse and leave me, so I nod and smile a lot
say what is expected of me, lest you see my lost eyes.
The more I try, the less I understand,
the more people speak, the less I want to know.
I see revulsion in your eyes but I'm to keep playing saint
while you sneer in disgust and move away from me.


Every molecule of mine tightens and is stressed
by life nor its participants care not a thing for my feelings,
I just can't seem to get on the same page.
I wish I could act them right out my temple,
but they always take center stage, ushering out
instinct, perception,
Even superficial distance nor disinterest does not assist
for my fears are an avalanche,
and there are no rescuers searching for my buried body.


So I dance, as fast as I can,
suppressing anger and rage, and their predecessor, hurt,
lest you laugh at me while I share,
barely hidden behind your cupped hand and lowered chin,
you snickering into the good graces of another who would
bash me too.


I perform well and emote and entertain,
because I couldn't give tickets away
when I was keeping it real.


Everybody loves a good story.


Maybe that's why we're all playing such convincing parts.

Nemesis Energies

The rhetoric or unexposed truths
chimes deep in my sensing ears
My knotted, diseased gut holds tight
to plights of unknowns, neighbors,
and even the departed

The vagaries of insults
both real and fictitious
imprison my creation

Ecstasy occasionally threatens
to do a drive-by
but really it's just movie trailer expectations
manipulating my naive and tender gullibility

Hold cautious desires close,
low expectations closer,
and let fly unrealistic dreams
to pave way for the

"Oh what a joy your pets must be,
hold longingly to gratitude!"
The stench or urine and shit
and processed rotten fish is
embedded in my nostrils

My carnivorous expectations
never sated, never dwindling,
up-ending carts in my mind's temple

We are all of us
a moment away from
jails, institutions,
and death

Perhaps the realization
can serve as protection
in the waning hours of hope
between 3 and 4 a.m.

Six of One..Half-Dozen of the Other

Here's a hint...

Replacing one maladaptive dissociative disorder for another
really isn't an improvement.

Demonizing the 'old problem' and manipulating truth about
the new obsession does not bury the true problem.

Obsessive, controlling, rigid, demanding thinking that looks
to please self above all.

When you are consumed with being a puppet-master, stating
"it's for a good cause" doesn't obliterate the sociopathy.

Finding a sick system to support a sick psychology doesn't
indemnify you; Being superior, infallible, brilliant, moralistic
and amplifying it with religious fervor is just side-stepping,
not growing.

Get the fuck over your smug self!

Beast of Burden

We can understand in our heads that something is not
healthy for us, and still desire it as deeply as ever in our hearts.

What is the appeal of something forbidden long after we
intrinsically know the downfall awaiting us if we
should indulge.

The charms and wiles of an old Achilles heel are like siren call
to our newly bolstered ship of safety.
Is it self destruction?
Is it refusal to value ourselves?
Do we need the excitement of playing the odds in our otherwise
boring lives?
Does distance from lessons hard fought lessen the impact of
our convictions?
Are we so easily plied, so distrusting of self?
Maybe we want to ride the edge and feel the pull; test ourselves?

Head and heart in conflict...
distracted from the reality of necessary decisions....
enamored of beautiful lies and flawed promises....
The question is becoming clearer;
Is the draw of the subtle hope greater than that of
the seductive despair?

Time will tell.

Gnash and Bash

So I scream and I blame and get out of whack,
and still I feel the gorilla on my back,
still I am consumed by a sense of lack;
you'd think by know I would have gotten the knack.


There is no contented resolution to be had;
I must release all the negativity and choose to be glad.
Allow that there are times when I will be sad--
Try not to compound it with going mad.


I run an inventory of another's perceived slights;
imagining them responsible for all my inner fights...
and then suddenly dawns one of those rare inner lights;
my own responsibility has me dead to rights.


My expectations of others are unfair at best,
my demands on myself are not enough of a test,
my complaints and gripes and bashing don't rest;
no wonder my life is absent zeal and zest.

Kill it Dead

I keep burying the errant feelings
I had for you, but they rise
demanding flesh.


I keep shooting between the eyes
to kill it dead as if  brains
were involved.


Evidently, I must flee to survive
lest be devoured once more,
unceremoniously.


I cannot care for my welfare
is at stake if I hesitate in the least.


I understand the need
for self preservation; I know
why you exacted me from your world.


I have been there, done that,
felt the remorse instantly...
we do what we have to to survive.
I object to using a shotgun
to kill a housefly.


I wish you hadn't reneged on
your decision; I didn't like being
hurtful to point out boundaries.
Maybe it couldn't have happened
any other way.


"Go on now go...walk out the door...
don't come around here..."


Have to be strong. Can't let you
back in to hurt me again.


I hated to see you sick. I
wondered which of your multitude
of friends was holding your hand
and looking after you now?
Still wanted it to be me....
then I remembered you kicking me
while I was down. Oops!
No more pity now!


You really missed out on a good thing.

The Game

It was magnificent

A big beautiful brilliant brutal beast of a thing

Manipulating inundating indoctrinating fascinating

drawing me in like a fly in the web

Eradicating trust and naivete, educating illuminating

inspiring maddening numbing

Insecurity whispered you needed a friend, foolishness

said to let you in, insanity invited pain again and again

It was a gift from the UN-iverse....being decimated....

rebuilt....vulnerability eliminated......roboticized by the

Master....

I know you're anguishing....alone inside, by your own

hand, nonetheless painful.....I was the acceptable casualty

Choices, decisions, repercussions...a wise man told me

we have to make them to move on...

Tossed aside like garbage by the one person trusted;

who can show love, compassion, devotion to a world 

of strangers, but just not me. ouch! Watch out for that point!

Thanks for playing...enjoy your parting gifts.

It seems a dream, to have ever needed someone.

And, all your blessed shit?

It's smoldering in the fire pit.

It brightened the sky when it was lit.

I surely wish you had been legit.

Take the precious 'time' to shove your 'good intentions'

up your tightly wound ass.