His voice
soft, gentle mesmerizing,
pleading with me to rise above,
loneliness filling the urgency.

I awake, "where am I?"
the only light is of
hundreds of luminescent candles
there is music, the music of the night

and he is there my angel of music
inside, a part of what he has made of me
I'm lost within the seductiveness of his voice.

It is not pity I feel
when I gaze upon him
but a deep longing
to learn the mysteries
And yet I feel fear

There is no safe place for me
Excepting the corners of my mind
So I retreat there often
In futile attempts to unwind

But there I am bombarded
By a battery of my own thoughts
Imprisoned by dissatisfaction
Which all my life I’ve fought

I need emotional stimulation
The kind that’s hard to buy
The kind society won’t understand
The kind whose absence makes me cry

If I had known when I was conceived
What a circus it would be
I’d have given up right then
And never become “me”

In
Two
Three
Four

Out
Two
Three
Four

Hold
Two
Three
Four

Repeat until
you feel
your body
release...

Heard the expression
so and so is feckless
a put down I guess
but not sure I get this

For aside from the Irish
who say what the feck
Erin slang replacing “u” with an “e”
as a way to avoid being rude or disgusting
when someone makes the assessment
that someone is feckless
it just begs the question
what the heck is feck

Is crying the answer to thoughts?

Is it a way to escape from reality or to ignore it entirely?

Torment, reality, a difference one can not see,

Waking up every night, screaming, shaking, sweating

Hating to love, when did the spiral start?

Happiness used to come easily to us,

Now I’m just grasping at straws.

Time is slipping by like sand within my hands,

Yet I can’t do anything but withstand.

I am done walking the jungle
Like the pilgrim of the southern
On the pebbles of the river
Under the shadow of the trees
In comfort of the smelling grasses
That drenched with cow-dungs in the scorching sun
I rode the crest of the wave of the pleb,
When cloud overcasted
When nobody would give me a piggyback,
A ragtag boy singing alone,
Splashed the puddles and smashed down the weeds
When I ran like a late school boy.

Thrown into the flames
By the riven grasp of my behaviors
No more

Standing fast at the inviting hearth
My shadows grow behind me
Pushing me closer to the fire

Callous clutches strive for control
I fight to keep my own cognition
Self awareness escapes me when I am not myself

Alone is how I feel
My wardrobe consists of a single cloak of invisibility
Completely naked and vulnerable
or altogether unseen
This is my daily attire
Neither is fashionable

A dove-like departure

Though it hurts, to part
In my heart, I know that every goodbye is a new hello
You altered my perception
Perhaps you taught me a bit about deception
You may have also taught me of love
Yet you now depart and fly away as would a dove

I treaded with you to unacquainted lanes
To far-off lands, to distant plains
My little world expanded
Momentarily I no longer felt stranded
I was liberated of banality with you
The chains were broken, and I was filled with vitality

I can feel the pain running down my spine

I can feel the darkness taking over my mind

I can hear the voices inside of my head

I cannot believe the things they have said

They make me act like I am a righteous fool

They use me as their unwilling tool

They make me dance to their evil melody

They are cruelly and slowly taking over me

Soon my inner demons will break out

For the worse for humanity, no doubt

in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
recorded July sixth nineteen sixty
upon birth of she who doggedly
pursued me to the ends of the earth
and what not take no as an answer.

Unbeknownst to yours truly
a baby girl got born
sixty three years from aforementioned date;
she automatically triggered
excited buzzfeeding murmurs
heard amidst the madding crowd
patiently awaiting to secure their eats
at none other than Horn & Hardart
offering their house special,
albeit free of charge;