A window to the soul,
A true vision that is whole.
With random shapely pieces,
And jagged little creases.

Like a mix tape, so diverse,
A forward button, but no reverse.
On a journey to different places,
One with unique tapestry spaces.

With a mixture of souls,
Who have a variety of goals.
Yet each component its own part,
At the core of life's beating heart.

The piercing rays of the solstice sun
Burning the truth into my heart
My decadent ways have my health on the run
Now is the time to start

Now is the time to watch my intake
I've a mountain I need to climb
I need my resolve as strong as I can make
If success is truly to be mine

In a few weeks I start my ascent
Starting treatment to cure the disease
Finding my focus is the first event
My thoughts are like leaves on the breeze

Nothing is ordinary,
Unless you choose to ignore
The succulence of extra-ordinary -

When each spoon fits the perfection
Of teacups, or the warmth of mouths,
And soup ladles curve, cradling broth,
Dipping like swans’ necks into painted bowls
Steaming with nourishment -

Nothing is ordinary,

Not when you remember hands engrained
With dirt and hardship,
Working the stiff and strength of clay,
Fingers learning the flesh of the stuff,

She’s a rose as lovely as a summer breeze,
my angel, dancing 'neath the woodland trees.
Like a lily, pure and white as fallen snow,
a bloom of breathless beauty, all aglow.

This gleaming goddess girl with a heart of gold,
sweet signorina for my arms to hold.
She’s blessed with those pouting lips I long to kiss.
A magic maiden who without I’d miss.

I am only flesh over bones

Trying my best to get along

Gets harder every day I try

Each day another part of me dies

The pain I feel always exceeds

The love I want, the love I need

Each night more and more tears fall

I find it hard to answer mornings call

I try to exist in the world I live in

A life I find hard each day to defend

My will is weak, my strength gone

I am only flesh over bones

My tinnitus came out in sympathy
When I heard a Mozart symphony
It was like he’d got it in fer me
For the key he used was a minor G
And it sounded like a cacophony
Or the bells of campanology
at St Paul’s Damascene epiphany
which reminds me of an analogy
with the Beatle’s famed discography

“For Christ’s sake LET IT BE!”
Said Lennon to McCartney

And so he did

I opened up that daily page
To awaken my daily rage

I read about our Country’s woes
And read about our Country’s foes

I learned at an early age
That each new day brought a brand new page

I was surprised to see
That today I had good reason for glee

I read the daily lottery page for fun
And to my amazement found I won!

Fraught traumatized wordsmith
telephonic grand slam rent psyche asunder
witnessing helpless cannibalization,
hospitalization, victimization
concerning writer of these words,
and riders on the storm
namely robbing me third eye blind
of legal tender
under the convincing guise of Apple
computer technician pretender.

Buried deep inside
the dark webbed wide world
yours truly sends electronic sos
while being twirled
to and fro hither and yon
seeking emotional, mental,
and spiritual reprieve.

You are one screwy dude
Tried but not trued
Some hold you near and dear
Some think you all about fear

To some you are helpful
as well as thoughtful,
but others will see soon,
you leave no thought room

You are not for the fearful
For them you are their earful
Information watershed
Brains emptied - they had bled!

In my deepest well of self doubt
When loathing becomes my dharma
I don’t know myself at all
Some disconnect occurs
Dissociative patterns
Same old triggers
Again
And again
And again
ad nauseum
Anger displaced and thrown around at random
Collateral damages in all directions
No peace will hold me here
This space I habitually frequent
A resident of my own dark shadows
Phantoms of the past with clutches vile
Old celluloid horrors, flicker away
Existential prison cell of my own fabrication