#0078 - Quicksand

Reality is alit with dissimilarities and likenesses:
duality.
Moving through crowds and emptiness with subdued celerity,
the steps of a klutz overtaking finesse,

the stint I find sitting upon me oppresses
my individuality,
trapped in crude arrest: a mentality
of denying creative access

that would otherwise roam free, God bless,
in a virtual reality
that is at least real to me -
more real than the hermetically sealed casket that bears our address.

#0077 - On Undue Extravagance

I feel as if it isn't hard to write
A poem that can tempt the genius mind.
Weave stories of a turtle with a kite,
And soon in such a mind you'll likely find:
The turtle is a slovenly reject
And, as such, lumbers like an ugly slug
Presenting sloth as something to reject
Else one's life passes like that of a bug.
The kite is brilliant opportunity
Forsaken by a lazy, useless beast
That though we easily can view and see
Flies off into the vastly empty east.
     Though, truthfully, I only wanted to
     Write something for a child in preschool.

#0076 - 18

I wonder what has changed so drastically in the neurotic synapses in my brain
that as of 5 days ago I can now go out for a relaxing smoke break;
I can now give new life and shelter to my own human being;
I can now swear my endless loyalty to a pretty girl;
I can now drink my way into a blissful oblivion;
I can now fire bullets in foreign lands;
and buy 700 horses set on wheels.

From what I know, the hidden corners of my school smell like nicotine and marijuana;
infants have been birthed by girls still attending classes I passed long ago;
girls much younger than I have been with men much older than I;
boys much younger than I have taken sacramental wine;
teens have taken up arms in nationalistic service;
and 16-year-olds have crashed cars.

So why do I now suddenly hold a skeleton key in my hand?

#0075 - Nighttime

The window of my darkened room
gives way to moonlight's lunar rays,
and as I sit here, grimly think-
-ing, peace leaves me while silence stays.

Here I think of all and no-
-thing, mind confused and soul attuned
to this strange night where I have quick-
-ly found myself a sullen lune.

I think I think of something, but
I'm not sure what I'm thinking of.
The gears within my head are shift-
-ing as the shadows dance above

my head that rests upon this pill-
-ow softer than my hardened feel-
-ings, catching all my unknown doubts
in restless peace, in restful sleep.

#0073 - Thought 16

Why not
wander through
the chasms of life
with a smile
upon your face?

#0072 - Thought 15

There it was,
our bright, naïve hope.
Left the shelter of our shells,
found its way into a harsh reality.

#0070 - Alchemy

21 ounces nicotine
19 ounces cocaine
1 razor
1 straw
2 grams heroine
1 syringe
15 ounces marijuana
1 lighter
22 ounces liquor
55 ounces beer
1 glass

And thus,
the ingredients to my magical potion.
I call it the "Elixir of Joy."

The concoction that makes me happy,
plasters a smile upon my face
up until I pass out,
and even then I get to dream of fun, ridiculous things.