My essence,
My soul,
Needs a lot of food
In order to be fed
And nourished.

My diet
Is rich
And varied.
Depending on the way I feel,
It is either
Complex
Or simple.

Sometimes
My soul's requirements
Are aesoteric,
With the use of words
And narratives.
This diet
Is harder to describe.
It can be a poem
Like this one
Or an entry
In my journal.
Thus clearing my mind,
Onto the page in my
Notebook.

Empty spaces inside my mind,
where you try to unpack,
memories most unkind.
No one lives there anymore.

Words pierce like razor blades,
ebbing my nerves, making them sore.
How's that bed of nails you made?
The door is closed; no one lives there anymore.

Take your poison and turn it on yourself.
You'll die alone, without any help.
Don't look for me, I jumped off that shelf.
I am free; no one lives there anymore.

theres a Georgia-based laser in place
knocking rocketships down outa space
such precision in aim
might a blonde be to blame?
kinda strange on its face kinda case

This ticket leads you to a place where love and kindness grow,
a first-class ride through quiet grace, a treasure you will know.
Your journey’s worth doesn’t start in the class where you begin,
but in the love you carry and the peace you hold within.

Don’t chase a fleeting glory, or climb a burning flame,
for fire glows its brightest, in honest hearts untamed.
The richest souls are those who give, not those who only take,
this path is made by love alone, or lost in hearts to break.

It's a very simple cup
With " Mr Happy" on it.
A round body
Yellow in colour
Small hands
Small legs
And a very large smile.

It resonated with me
Because of the mood I'm in.
I'm happy
And I'll yell it to the roof tops.
I only have here
I only have only now
And I want to express my joy
At being.

To quote Bruce,
I am enough,
Enough to be joyous
In this moment in time.
This is all I have
And all I wish to have.

No matter I kept fingers and toes crossed,
and waited with bated breath since January 2, 2025
even converted from skeptic to orthodox Judaism,
and strictly followed the Torah,
Talmud, and traditional Jewish laws,
and made good on the gamut
of my misdeeds considered a shonda,
nevertheless yours truly
courtesy the powers at large fell,
not slated to win
(til death do me part if lucky),
and thus one mediocre
poet from Perkiomen Valley
reduced to a life of panhandling,
(which required a bit of skill let

Rain drips through this canopy
Feeding my insanity locked within
My own head without want of others
Words, my mind bleeds thoughts

That repeat on an endless loop
Caught within my cranium of invention
That hides from attention I don't seek,
I'm blind to your appearance or appraisal

Who was I before I dreamt up all this
Madness or is that even true lost with
The unrelenting tide my head awash
With fear and endless torture

Just a bit of gratitude I need,
As love, to plant this awesome seed.
Never giving up on my gifts and dreams,
Under all or any worse extremes.
Alas these days are all too short,
Reality bites like it's a sport.
Yet, the future's yours to write.

If I were asked what would I miss,
if missing was to be,
I'd take the time to sit a while
with countless cups of tea.

I'd pull an extra saucer out,
another cup for you,
and we would linger on the porch
at least an hour or two.

Then we would rise to walk the lane
where berries greet the gate.
Perhaps we'd stop to gather them,
perhaps our stroll could wait.

While gazing at the endless sky,
I'd hear the sun suggest
that shadows dally over fields,
and Earth should pause to rest.

Analgesia

We reel them in with Ritalin,
(Big Pharma pockets the profit)
Prozac and Amphetamine –
it gets so hard to come off it.

Increasing dependency doses,
the playground exchange of bright sweets;
damned by a dual diagnosis,
the endless prescription repeats.

A bullet-proof vest to manage stress
is obligatory in these quarters:
it’s the weight you can’t get off your chest
when there are statins in the waters.