Tonight, I’m wide awake
– no reason why.
But, for such reason,
I think I shall write.
That is, it’s time for
some self-therapy.
And this, I do, when
eyes are quite un-tight.
Always! I am
fighting my eyes!
For, once I choose to write,
they choose to close.
My mind loses all thoughts
most suddenly.
Well, poetry’s a lost art,
I suppose.
But practice proves to make
good sleep for me.
Tag: art
Synthetic Fantasies
In red pajamas,
laying on the couch,
My friend, again,
the fog visits my head.
Yes, everything is true,
or so they’ll vouch,
Existing inside feelings,
rarely said.
I’m held down by
Anxiety’s clamp.
Internalizing
synthetic fantasies,
Leaving no room for me
to un-assume.
I fade into
my false realities
In clothes that smell
of yesterday’s perfume.
God’s Lavendar
Despite the wind,
which grows quite strong tonight,
I lay just fine inside
my cozy room,
Embracing subtle happiness,
like Spring,
Forgetting all about
the night’s shadow.
Until my eyes
cannot stay open.
I’m letting my subconscious
-ness let go.
You’re blessed if you
discover such a thing.
My soul is like a garden,
late to bloom,
Dancing with ink
againt the candlelight.
Rosebud
I guess I’m just a child
at the heart.
Still living life in
late night TV shows
Like “I Love Lucy’s”
showing before bed.
Her theme song would
have been my lullaby.
I guess I never
properly learned to cry.
And you might see
me now, I’m 35,
In happy pictures
from vacations had.
We’re all just running still
– I think it shows;
Looking to find a way
back to the start.
Foolishness
Aren’t we high above
humility?
Like: been here, done this,
done that all before.
Enraged by stooping
to stupidity.
“They have stricken me.,
and I was not sick;
they have beaten me,
and I felt it not:..
…when shall I awake?
I will seek it yet again.”
From mud or monkey,
what’s your pedigree?
Digressing through millennia,
we sore.
I press the weights
of all humanity.
the fragrance writer 