Mind's Cry - June 22, 2008

There's a white piece of paper

on this table under my hand

at the thoughtless mercy of ink

and my mind's cry.

I'm always loving in sleeping discomfort,

always screaming the reaping of the tingling on my scalp.

Stay away from my brain.

Te drain of your gain is crushing down 

on the chalkboard crash-screech torture of my quiet.  

I'm not zoned in,

I'm not present in the past of my reality.

Futures are insignificant and

my stomach on my tongue

sings sonnets to my numb and absent mind.

[Untitled] - June 22, 2008

I won't pretend not to be frightened

or lend some sort of superficiality to the splendor of

the presence of impatience in my pathetic persona.

As my jaw and indecision grind to a halt 

and snap from from comforted coves,

where they belong, my sunken eyes inflame and

I'm sleeping in sullen separation from the self.

It's been days since silence sounded simple.

Static sears my open ears--

slipping somewhere under my veins, slowing my blood,

and my thoughts to sludge.

Discordance - June 22, 2008

Each day I'm waking up

to some sort of sleep

and there's this noise

and it's so silent that it's loud

and it's so deafening that it's drenching.

I'm desperately derailed--

my thinking askew--

the ponderances of my pensive and paltry pain

a pittance for this parade of petty flourishes

that are my attempts to reconcile the 

ocean of risiduality with my present.

I'm waking up

divinely deranged.

Each moment further from faith

and I'm falling into this farce

with it's characters that flail and 

fake ferocious facades of fortitude.