Monthly Archives: April 2012

Anatomy of Fractured Thought

 
The holy trinity of me,
I and I and I,
Fractured by misunderstood neural pathways,
Cerebral chemical reactions,
That science is yet to explain,
Always in place,
For decades ignored,
Or at least leashed in,
By a ritualistic self medication,
Befitting my Scottish and Irish heritage,
My self-profession of Warrior Poet,
Writer and seeker of life,
A virtual pugilist,
Knocking myself down and out,
Depression and repression,
Fighting,
That I might live to see another day, week, month and year.
 
The holy trinity of me,
Self actualized and realized,
I and I and I,
Defense mechanisms of a mind confounded,
Confused and abused,
Blessing and curse,
Obstacle and opportunity,
Commenced at birth,
Forged through struggle and strife,
Announcing proudly where once I was ashamed,
That these mighty words require,
My complete attention and affection,
Misunderstood realities that are my cage,
The chains that hold me down,
Yet drive me to seek out fractured redemption,
Once again become whole.
 
The holy trinity of me,
The anatomy of fractured thoughts,
Insurmountable yet percipient,
The dominant I,
Rational and determined,
Sucker punched by the secondary I,
An emotional tidal wave of explosive currents,
Entreating me to my destiny,
Lover, husband and father,
All of which seem like the prevailing wind of change,
Fantasies without accomplishment that pierce my wounded heart,
The third I,
The white tissue of brain that matters,
While black and white turn to grey,
Round four in a twelve round bout,
This altercation yet decided,
Internal judgment and external anticipation,
Of something yet to come.
 
The holy trinity of me,
I and I and I,
Paranoid delusions,
Fantastical illusions of educated discernment,
Manic up and manic down,
The level headed stabilization of me yet complete,
Pharmacological management,
Several pills a day,
Commenced that I may find freedom from my banal dog,
Black,
Howling not at the wind or the moon,
But at my own self-awareness,
Barking its discontent with my desire to push on,
Regardless of this plight,
As today I find the courage to laugh in the tightened face,
Of my prosecuting hound,
Dog.
 
The holy trinity of me,
I and I and I,
Attenuated by therapy and drugs,
Determined that my self worth,
My meaning,
My destiny,
Is held here in high regard,
One piece at a time,
In spite of the very real challenges,
That these split personalities solicit,
Deep within,
My souls entrapment,
Burdened by my minds realizations of real and imagined,
In the absence of love,
Wishing to touch another so deeply,
That in these words,
They discover themselves,
And I can rightfully claim my self-anointed title,
Warrior Poet.
 
SDM

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Miserable Companion

O miserable companion and only friend,
My deepest fears and contemplations,
Pissed on and over,
By a menacing Black Dog,
A misunderstood and misrepresented dalliance,
Of my souls greatest demands,
Freedom I cry,
As my leash is pulled and I am returned,
To this horrible life,
Reminded of the ordeal that is now my life,
Feeling minimally adequate,
In that I can speak this righteous pain,
To readers the world over.
 
O miserable companion and bastard child,
Of I and I and I,
Capable for years, as I was, of holding at bay,
The myriad effects that now run me over,
Like a bus,
Cross town traffic,
How do I loathe you for your trespasses,
Yet still I do loathe myself,
For this is part of me,
And therefore I am at fault,
Filled with doubt and shame,
Shame and doubt,
As I raise my eyes to the sky,
Crying out for more permanent relief,
As I beg the universe, the ether,
To give me more than words,
Relief,
That never comes.
 
O miserable companion and fleeting friend,
Taking hold of this mind, not just my soul,
Forcing tricks of my eyes,
My hands to shake tremble just as my fears,
Realized daily,
At least lately,
Why must depression sink me to the bottom of the sea?
Why must I drown in the discontent,
Inside the furious maelstrom of neurons firing,
Neurons over which I have no control,
Made simpler for you to understand, at least I pray,
Should you want to,
Dip your toes momentarily,
Into my surreal reality,
Do you think about breathing?
Or does it just happen?
My predicament is the exact same as that,
I have no control,
As I move hour by hour,
Fighting,
Waged,
Will never be won.
 
O miserable companion and jubilant destroyer of worlds,
What shall I do,
What tone must I take for my salvation,
Shall I,
Continue down the garden path of your design,
Medicated fantasy of a life reclaimed,
For without those pills,
The many pills,
My mitigated life,
Would become a deadly ambassador,
Felled first by chemical reaction,
Then my intellects destruction,
Finally my mind grasping as a child a forbidden candy,
Moved to obliteration,
This fate,
Worse that death to me,
For what am I without a mind,
Without the faculties to set me free,
From depressions bloody curse.
 
O miserable companion and surreal master,
I beg with you,
Set me free,
Give me back a beautiful taste for life,
Rather than the misery of this horrible plight
Let me again taste sanity,
Move me back to this side of normal,
I beg of you,
Set my arms free,
To these tomes,
In depressed tones,
Left of pain,
To realize again,
Rebirth,
As I reclaim my life.
 
SDM

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

At Least I Suppose

“Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you/ That you may be my poem/ I whisper with my lips close to your ear/ I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you.” Walt Whitman
 
I know who you are,
Or at least I suppose,
And thus,
I must assure,
Though it needn’t be said,
I’ve loved men only platonically,
As Brothers’,
And even still,
They have been few and far between.
 
I know who you are,
Or at least I suppose I do,
And as you place your hand upon me,
You have already become my poem,
An epic tale,
That absorbs my day,
In wonderful expressions,
Finding anew words to describe,
That which is unmistakable,
You have become my poem,
Muse,
This poem,
That the Ether brings,
Whispering to me,
As I long to whisper in your ear,
May I entreat you to listen,
To these whispers,
And your heart.
 
I know who you are,
Or at least I suppose I do,
Hope I do,
Believe that in you,
Again this poem,
Reveals the inner workings of my mind,
The thoughts that I have,
Of holding you near and dear,
Caressing your mind, body and soul,
Though not with platitudes,
Instead with crafted nuggets of sweet kisses,
Known to all who read me,
Real kisses,
My beard tickling you,
Spiritual kisses that liberate you,
Oh how do I love kissing you.
 
 
I know who you are,
Or at least I suppose I do,
Which I hope does not impose,
For I am coming to realize,
With wonder and awe,
Marveling at the capacity of the human heart,
To heal time and again,
Love as guide,
That here is it necessary,
To compose,
That your mind knows,
As for love,
believing I am capable,
Is not the same as that feeling,
The perfectly imperfect chemical chain reaction,
So intricately misunderstood,
Though I believe,
That time will allow what is so obvious to blossom,
As destiny intends…
 
SDM

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

The Passion That Is… Me!

Slave to a senseless deception,
Personal and societal (though possibly imagined)
That said I was not allowed to be me,
That I was not good enough,
Strong enough,
Good looking enough,
Smart enough,
Talented enough,
I and I and I,
Less than enough,
Striving for the unattainable,
CAN YOU HEAR ME,
Feel me,
Know this,
And for what,
What’s the point,
So I slough off the chains that have held me,
Jobs that could never live up to my potential,
(again a prison cell that I confront daily)
for I do not fit neatly into your world,
and believe me,
should you open your eyes,
the world is yours.
 
Now,
An awakening,
A sullen face,
That leads to a joyous reappraisal,
Of my life,
Slave to that which I always should have been,
These words,
Though I am more master than slave,
Save that if I do not write,
I and I and I are thrust into a danger zone,
Where my coherent thoughts,
Become muddled, muddied, morose and miserable,
Blackmailed by my own thoughts,
So I write,
Master and slave,
Knowing that this struggle,
Daily,
Is the standard by which I measure my own worth,
What am I worth?
What am I worth?
Not in dollars or cents,
But in words and sentences,
A robber baron of words,
Like Carnegie,
Giving back the only way I know how,
My endowment to you,
To this earth,
To society as a whole.
 
I had lain underdeveloped,
Surrendering to compromise,
Settling into positions and worlds,
That I had no place being,
Save survival,
Until there came a point in time,
That survival,
Had more to do with these words,
Than any of you can ever be aware,
Dressing myself down,
Dressing myself down,
For what and for who,
Why?
Reality calling;
 
These words love you,
No need to pretend,
No need to bear false witness,
As you love these words,
And in them,
Sender,
Lay your salvation,
My salvation,
I and I and I,
Now assured,
That I need not compare,
For it is okay for me to be me,
Growing,
Changing,
Becoming,
Being,
The new standard of me,
Measured against me,
And these words,
Finding real.
 
Slave to my passion,
I can no longer be contented,
Hidden,
From you,
From these words,
From me,
Beyond compare,
Beyond compare.,
The new standard of I,
And I and I,
The passion,
That plainly is,
 
Me!
 
SDM

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

And I Submit…

 
Even now,
As I sit here,
Caught rapt by an affection,
Replete with over active imagination,
And thoughts that need not be analyzed,
Only explored and felt,
I contemplate exactly how the neurons firing,
And chemicals colliding,
Produced an event that would catalyze,
Something that neither of us could put our fingers on,
And that poets, lovers, muse and science since time immemorial have tried to explain,
To no avail,
Something that both of us acknowledged,
Almost fanciful,
Lovesick teenagers,
Definitely mystical,
As baited breath held,
Until again I can wallow in your elegant poise,
As I discover anew,
Everything happens for a reason,
The whimsical advance,
Now my drug of choice,
Retreating into you,
Advancing into life,
As a junkie does their first joint or drink,
You,
Now my drug of choice,
That leaves me high on another plain,
Transported to a place so very far from here,
A place that remains nameless,
So long as you are near,
The very thought of you,
Exhausting my mind,
With limitless potentials,
Weak from this latest progressive infatuation,
Not knowing where the road leads,
Yet ready to discover,
That though I’ve tired of being burned by passions bright spark,
Of invention,
I refuse to believe,
Any longer,
That I don’t deserve the happiness that you provide,
Muse,
Without effort,
Without even knowing that you’re doing it,
Save that I write these words,
Those become inessential,
When our mouths collide,
Swollen lips,
Endearing kisses,
Temporal and spiritual,
In this new advance,
Toward you,
Toward life,
Toward a future now seemingly immured,
By the gentle grip,
Of your endearing spirit,
And I submit…
 
SDM

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Where Art Thou Muse?

Where art thou Muse,
She that we all have written about,
Time and again,
A search for inspiration,
Discovered,
In your smile,
The way the sun catches your hair,
Or the way you take a deep breath before you speak,
How your eyes sparkle when you are intrigued,
Or your positivity is down right infectious,
Where words become unnecessary,
Just your presence,
Enough to alight the path that I must take,
Muse, where art thou?
 
Where art thou Muse,
She that has ascended me,
Physically, spiritually and mentally,
Your touch like a blistering inferno alighting passions temptation,
Your spirit freeing my mind engaging it in a new and spectacular  charm,
Mentally,
Muse, you are,
Unlocking the chest of my own creation,
A written stream of longing,
Where words collide,
As I would like our bodies to,
New paradigm uncovered,
For the both of us,
Or just a transient affair,
A cautionary tale we tell years from now,
Muse, where art thou?
 
Where art thou Muse,
She that lifts my spirits,
Long enough that I may pen a tale,
An epic poem,
That is yet to unfurl,
For you have become my poem,
You have become the diametrically opposed opposite,
Of the demons that torment me daily,
Yet together,
It should be,
It could be,
Together,
We will create a new archetype,
In both our lives,
Muse, where art thou?
 
Where art thou Muse,
She that has penetrated my psyche,
Sloughing off all suggestion,
That I am crazy,
Preferring instead,
That I am enthused,
Brilliant if not eccentric,
Inspired,
As I am by you,
Muse, where art thou?
 
Where art thou Muse,
Oh Muse where art thou,
Will you find me,
Will you take your time,
Muse,
Will you let me reign in suppressed emotion,
Discovering here,
A literary devotion,
To capturing what you do to me,
To these words,
To my psyche,
She that has captured my affection,
Admiration and attention,
Muse,
Art thou,
Where?

SDM

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

My Fingers Bleed

true, wealth, not, money, pursue, help, fingers
 
My fingers bleed,
Though I persist,
My fingers ache, just as my mind,
Inseparable from the caveats of my soul,
Crying freedom,
Yet inviting submission to the most sublime,
Countless times a day,
Dire warnings of impending doom,
Or grand designs of agape love,
For you,
I record, dutifully the rise and fall,
Of the empire of my own aspirations,
Sometimes conquered,
Sometimes captive,
Though always filled with a youthful exuberance,
That bears witness to the innocence of my soul,
Purging demons,
Or entreating the universe to let me free,
Finally revealing to me more than just the abstract Muse,
But also the one, THE one that can help me find,
The answers to questions that have haunted me,
And man itself,
Since time immemorial,
Shall I continue, fruitless, in pursuit of the most blessed design,
Shall I fight my destiny?
Or embrace her, as she so demands?
Will I be free to wander my own beliefs?
To live up to my own imposed potential,
Rather than that of those around me,
For I have been searching, far and wide,
Near and dear,
For the final piece,
To reveal the answer we all search for,
For the measure of this man,
Will never be recorded in ones and zeroes in a bank account,
It will never be measured in acres or hectares of land,
How many beautiful homes I own,
Cars or other objects of creature comfort,
No,
Not this Warrior Poet,
Not now,
Not ever,
For the trappings of money,
Will never reveal the full wonder and splendor of the soul,
Having watched enthusiastically those on both sides of the tracks,
Realizing that the supposed wrong side is in fact the right side and vice versa,
Circuitous logic,
Rationalizations and platitudes,
Always falling short,
For my happiness in this life,
And whatever life is to come after,
Is not dependant on material objects,
But solely on one condition,
One known us all,
That of the all engrossing, intoxicating and infectious emotion,
That binds us all,
Love,
Sweet love,
Agape and requited,
For in the realization of that,
I will instantly be worth more than all the money printed,
In the history of the world,
For I will have found,
My purpose,
My Muse,
My enlightenment,
With every kiss,
From you,
Whom I zealously pursue,
With these humble words,
As betrothed evidence,
Of what’s to come.
 
SDM

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized