Tag Archives: Life

Human Beings Are Like That

Many people claim to know me,
And yet so few of you have ever understood;

Since the tender age of five,
I have endured, largely in private,
The plague like realities of this ever working mind,
Never resting,
Not for a moment stopping,
As the chemical storm
That is perfected in this warped brain of mine,
Allow for a moment of relief,
Nightly, when I stare at the ceiling;

Deliberating on the pain I have been subjected to,
Smiling as much as possible to mask what was really happening,
As I slipped deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole,
Where there was and is no Carpenter,
There was and for me is a Walrus,
Buddha seemingly calling out to me from the Ether,
Just as Ernest calls me from over my shoulder,
Along with the rest of my delusional posse,
Lost;
Fitzgeralds’, Picasso, Pound, Joyce, Stein, and Toklas,
Useful to be sure,
But nonetheless,
How, at the age of twelve, could you explain?

W O R D S…

My long time salvation,
From an eternal pain that burns in me,
Just as a flame of another,
In a cemetery where fallen men and women,
Patriots all,
Made the ultimate sacrifice for a supposed God,
And a once great country,
A salvation that for me realizes,
I have fallen,
Time and again,
Five, twelve, twenty-one and every two years since then,
Yet somehow endured;
Moreover, coming here; was to be my final release.

W O R D S…

One true sentence Ernest reminds me now…

I left my home and native land,
In my mind,
Chemically stunted by cocktails designed to create robots,
Functionality seemingly more important than vitality,
I left my home and native land,
Proud,
Resolved that I would be as far from my family and friends as possible,
Sheltering them from what I had decided weeks before leaving,
To this land of Elephants, genuine souls that shine,
Communities that thrive on common purpose and effort,
Families that thrive on love and devotion,
I left my home and native land,
To find a place of love,
For my own troubled mind,
Where finally at ease,
I could take my life,
Knowing they would send me off,
As I long to be,
Burned,
Returned to the Universe;

Sparing my family and friends the pain of being near,
Not understanding,
Not knowing,
That every day is a struggle,
Every hour the thought of death stalked me,
Stalks me,
Just as a rabbit a very important date,
I felt late for my own rebirth,
Through a very personal demise,
On my terms,
I left my home and native land,
A date with destiny,
A date with the reaper,
Grim.

The best laid plans of mice and men,
Unraveled before me,
One smile,
Another and another,
Abounding,
Resounding,
Confounding,
As a people with so little,
Could seemingly have so much,
Such wealth that even the richest of you may never know;

A desire to live, not exist, live,
A desire to thrive,
In circumstances many of you reading this will never see,
Let alone be capable of imagining;

The best laid plans of mice and men,
Paved with despair,
That led me so far away from my home and native land,
So I could return triumphant,
Warrior Poet, back home;
That which calls me hourly…

Yet,
I found the universe, the cosmos and the Ether,
(not to mention Ernest)
Calling out to me,
Chosen light,
Protector of mankind,
Engage that smile,
Engage that rage,
That perfect chemical storm,
The power,
That rests inside this mind,
To fight for a new world,
The world I have longed for since Ernest first appeared at five,
Spoken about since I could critically think,
Worked for since I realized that what I was doing,
Was the polar opposite of who I am and what I longed for,
I worked for evil men and evil itself
A truth I could no longer hold,
Let alone the voices that never quieted;

Seeking death,
I found life,
A meaning and a purpose,
That I have long believed will only be realized upon my premature death,
Whether by my hand or that of a bullet;

My soul no longer poisoned by pharmaceutical zombification,
By actions taken, those were intended well,
Were in fact the roads to hell,
But not here,
Not now,
For this has passed,
Due to these people that have freed me,
Saved me,
Embraced me for me,
Treat me like a man,
Seeking to be a better man,
For my heart has never been tarnished,
Only my mind,
Though now free from medicine,
I have found that genuine humanity is my medicine,
I have relief that is more personal in the smile of a child,
Than I ever did from Lithium or the rest.

It is for these reasons,
The comfort I have been granted,
Which few of you would find comfortable at all,
Returned to me my life on my terms,
Returned to me and thus you, my words,
My passion,
My soaring spirit
And a mind free from the tyranny of the poison pills,
That longs to engage humanity,
To help wherever and whenever possible,
To be SENDER,
The one that you have all loved to hate,
And hated to love;

Please understand;
My plea,
My cry,
My devotion to these twelve families,
These human beings,
Who are being left behind,
Understand that without them,
These words,
Would not be written,
My life force would have been gone long ago,
For without them,
There would be,
No more Sender,
And just as there has been a Return to Sender,
Please help me, help them,
To return to a place of safety, a place of comfort,
A place to call home.

We all long for a place to call home!

SDM

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What Dreams MAY Come

 

Perchance,

These words fall not upon deaf ears

Or an erstwhile impenetrable soul,

Perchance,

These words enter through loving eyes,

Knowing that these sentiments rare,

Are the truest form of me,

Expressed herein,

Delightfully,

Though feared lost in translation,

Cultural mores,

Yet here I stand defiant,

Like a child at play,

With you,

Tickling the fancy of your greatest desires,

Roaming free and invited into the dreams you seek,

Piercing the armor that you so deftly have created,

Come to you like a knight,

In tales of yonder,

Where the damsel in distress,

You,

Is saved,

Figuratively and literally,

By me,

Here and now!

Perchance,

These words enter into your mind,

Understood by ripe passion,

Filter free from worry,

That they may alight your greatest fantasies,

Here and now,

Of the life you crave,

The life you deserve,

The life I’d like to make with you,

Perchance,

These words enter you like water,

Finding the path of least resistance,

Where they hit right at the heart of you,

Like the gods ambrosia,

Intoxicating you with a restored vision,

Sacred,

Beautiful,

For what was and what could be,

With you,

For you,

For us,

Perchance!

Perchance,

These words could unlock the chambers of your insecurity,

Demanding nothing more of you,

Than that delicious smile,

The one that lights up every room,

With your eyes dancing like an inverse moon,

Eclipsed,

By you,

I will go in this way,

Discovering that what may be may be,

Come,

To this,

At the head wondering, wandering and wishing,

To share with you,

Every moment,

Perfect, imperfect and all together plain,

Though with you,

None could be plain,

For you are like that fairy tale princess,

And I a low suitor,

Longing to raise up to become that knight,

To take you to the life you’ve always sought,

Perchance!

Perchance these words restore that faith lost,

For reasons inconsequential,

That neither define me nor you,

Nor the clear admiration and adoration that we share,

Perchance,

These words,

Beg the reason of reason released,

For in affairs such as these,

The heart and soul,

There need not be reasons,

Only compassion,

Understanding,

Trust and the daily affirmation,

That I am yours,

And you are mine.

Perchance,

These words,

Could possibly heal your wounds,

Could possibly reveal you to you,

And thus more to me,

Beyond the naked expression of beauty that I have

Already born witness to,

Captured as I have been,

By the radiance of you,

Bedazzled by the awe that you inspire,

Uplifted by your sweet gentleness,

Hoping,

Panging,

Yearning,

For you to see,

Who I am,

Who I seek to be,

With you…

Perchance!

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Can You…

Can you…

Can you forgive me…

 

I hope you can

And trust you will;

 

For I pang for a life of,

Once upon a times,

And happily ever after,

With you…

 

All ye that have been reckless,

Without regard or understanding,

The condition within,

Conditions,

For this wounded man,

Figurative and literal,

Brutally torn and tattered,

Hidden realities and invisible scars,

I can let no one see,

For when I do the result is inevitable,

An inverse rabbit in the hat,

POOF…

 

GONE!

 

I fault you not,

For choosing the easier road,

For truly there is no easy road in life,

I fault you not,

How could I,

Considering that I know myself,

My three selves,

I and I and I,

And at times even I am uncertain,

As to whether or not,

I am comfortable in my own skin,

I assure you I am,

Not,

And have not been for quite some time;

 

I have to be, though,

And I attempt daily,

To find the strength,

I attempt daily,

To give you reassurances,

A necessary aplomb,

That I can and will beat this thing,

This unbeatable,

Unbearable,

Unbelievable,

Life,

This jewel that remains unpolished,

Uncut stones,

Like tracts of time,

Rivers on Mars,

*(desiring instead Eros)

Those reveal our deepest wounds,

Mine hiding behind compartments of beaming soul shine,

Fighting to overcome my black dog,

Constant cruel companion,

I fight;

 

I can’t apologize for my wounds,

I just can’t,

Hard to believe,

Well you should,

Perhaps if you read my palm,

Perhaps if you read me,

Reached inside and held tenderly,

This abject sorrow,

Endless,

Heaving me through time,

From place to place,

Longing for a home,

A love,

A wife,

A home,

A family,

A life;

Longing for you…

 

You’d get it,

You’d understand,

Why I turn the colour of an aubergine,

At the very thought,

Of a love requited,

A love with you,

A thought I’ve held dear,

Since my life fell apart,

In an instant,

Instances,

Of this chivalrous knighted,

Fool,

And how am I fool,

Looking to put my feet on firm ground,

The terra firma,

Of your heart,

Like in fairy tales,

That delivers me from evil,

And reminds me,

Of all that is before us,

What do we do now?

What do we do now?

All ye that have been reckless,

With this wounded man,

How do I forgive you,

With grace, compassion, empathy, understanding and love,

Can you do the same?

 

Will you?

Please…

 

SDM

 

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Lost Generation (Found Love?)

  

If I could cradle you again in my arms,

Like these past weekend,

A lifetime shared in beautiful moments,

Collected,

Feel the body electric between us,

Soul mates now advance,

Or is it depart,

Apart yet together,

Knowing that you feel you have to to do what you’re doing,

Without knowing why,

And refusing to see the truth

I too must now move on,

Progress to the conviction,

That it is no contradiction,

That this can be,

Sing my own body electric,

For you,

For the rest of the world to see,

Let the voices in my head,

And the Ether,

The giants of my craft,

Use me as their conduit that I may produce,

My epic,

These stories,

Unearth for the world,

The universe,

The truths of these demons,

Those come dressed to me in tuxedos and ball gowns,

Entreating me to dance the love hypnotic,

Can you be hypnotized,

Captivated,

Enraptured in these emotions rare,

A virtual green fairy, produced,

Inside my own mind,

Expose that my calling once ignored,

Save for the women of my Muse delight,

Is now the central feature of a life lived?

Am I now complete?
Not without you!

In the pursuit of happiness and love,

For others,

Without acknowledging what I need,

Thinking of the Lost Generation,
Living with them,

Drinking, eating and partying,

My delusions,

I can feel Zelda’s breath on my neck,

As she whispers sweet everything’s in my ear,

As I wish you would, and have,

I can hear Pablo as he twirls his fingers,

Explaining the abstract,

To those that will never get it,

But he will get them,

He persists,

Determined little bastard,

Note to self;

Become a determined little bastard,

Gertrude takes me by the hand,

Walks me to the Seine,

Waves her arms dramatically and says;

“This is the river of your discontent;

Let it ebb and flow,

As true as the words you write,

And you will find,

Find you will,

The answers that you seek,”

 

In the corner F. Scott and Ernest are laughing,

Drawing me near,

With their alcohol blemished wisdom,

Just as my own,

The sage like discord you’d expect from giants,

Of personality, spirit, mind and life itself,

Ernest in earnest,

Says to me;

“Go on Son, the world is your oyster;

It is time for you to find a pearl,

A pearl you must,

Travel far and wide,

Inside your mind and in the world,

Find your voice,

Your voice,”

F. Scott scoffs;

“My boy,

It is time for you,

Time for only you,

Live gloriously,

Fabulously,

Relentlessly,

Find your inner playboy,

And reveal to me that Jay is not the greatest character,

Reveal to me that you are the chosen light,

Reveal it to the world,

They are waiting.”

In unison they declare;

“She is waiting for you… you just need to find her.”

So I smirk,

As I realize that my joy,

Is in these words,

My love is in these words,

Abundant and without end,

Just as my love has always been for you,

Proverbial and literal.

As F. Scott finishes Pound rounds the corner,

Slaps me on the back and says;

“Wisdom they impart,

Is only that, which you may find,

Your fingers dance,

Your mind is a beautiful tangled and intertwined tango,

Easy for you,

Now you must find your flamenco,

Do with these words,

What you will,

Go wise young man;

For you are one of us,

Truly.”

With that,

I am brought back to this world,

To this time,

The present,

Where I must find my way,

Find my way,

To excellence,

Personal greatness,

Where I can find you,

Literal,

That we may both shine,

Basking in the glory of love,

Of life,

Of uncertainty,

And find that I may triumph,

In spite of my black dog,

The curse of depression,

Repressed,

By you, for you, with you,

If you’d let me,

What if man never dreamed of the stars?

Never dreamed of flight?
Of going under the sea?

Of being a family man,

With love and a true life,

What more matters?

To wit,

We all raise and glass and say;

“LIVE…”

SDM

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Life?

I fight,

I struggle,

I am,

me,

Scribo Ergo Sum,

Fool that I am,

are you ready?

Can you be?

Am I?

Will I?

Will you?

Manic repressions,

singing back to me,

Moloko,

who cares what the truth is;

you do!

I do?

Bring it back!

Shine for me,

as I you,

shine,

for all to see,

can you see?

I can!

Shattering universal atoms,

one molecule at a time,

here I am,

nucleus,

and not,

for you,

I cry out,

to the Ether,

and then….

SDM

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Panacea

My head drops to an awaiting hell,

For surely I am damned,
As I lift my eyes to the heavens,
Calling out to you;

Love;

Panacea,
Daughter of Asclepius and Epione,
Sister of Laso, Hygieia, Aceso and Aglaea,
Your brothers;
Podalerius, Machaon, Asclepius, Aratus and Telesphoros,
It would seem that you are the perfect fit,
For that which I desire,
For never before,
Have I as now,
Needed you more,
The curative powers of you as goddess,
May I entreat your family and you,
To place your will upon me,
That I may finally escape this tortuous life,
Replete with a permeating darkness that has descended,
Upon this weary poet warrior,
I need you now and beckon you forth,
Panacea,
Panacea,
Panacea…

Please take pity on this less than subtle fool,
This tired wanderer who in search of truth and justice,
Chooses to live life by a different set of rules,
(though surely I am no better)
Freed from their conformity,
I am freed from their rules,
As such I beseech you forth,
Come to me,
Panacea,
Please?

Awaiting your curative powers,
I begin to climb the ascension of my own discord,
Vividly recorded in vibrant hues of self introspection,
Wondering if perhaps,
This is the retribution for a life lived,
Outside the chains of a supposed civilization,
That is far from civilized,
We are not civilized and we stand on the brink of destruction,
Every day,
As a civilization we are,
Destroying ourselves one day at a time,
Marching to death,
Without a care in the world,
As long as they can have their television sets,
Survivor and Big Brother,
The Price is Right or Let’s Make a Deal,
Stupefied by the idiot box,
They will press on without understanding,
I begrudge them not,
I simply desire a life more fluid,
Finding the path of least resistance,
And most reward
(though not material)
A life more real,
A life imagined daily,
Still I stand corrected,
Awaiting the releasing of the mythological Kraken,
Or perhaps a return of Noah’s flood
This tender soul destroyed by rules that make no sense,
Shall I befall the same fate,
Despite my cries against their indifference,
What am I to do?

Pandora’s Box opened long ago,
By this so called civilization,
Am I guilty by association?
Stupefied by love?
Stupid,
In this moment,
Lost in your soul,
Found in your eyes,
Discovering anew,
Life,
In you,
For you,
With you.

Am I too as idiot,
(not that I wish to cast stones for I prefer to live in a glass house)
Wandering village to village,
Feeding lies to the ether,
Am I too a sycophant,
A lemming intended to fall over the same cliff,
The paradox herein,
That I do not fit into their world,
I do not wish to fit into their world,
I have escaped their world,
Though still I suffer in silence,
Save the rattling of these soiled keys,
Stroke.

Is this my fate that I shall suffer the fools,
And myself be a party to their indignation,
Manifest daily by the desire for more,
I want not more,
I want less,
I want you,
I want you,
I want to feel the cool breeze of change,
Sweep over me,
Like Icarus’ wings fallen from the sky,
What plight is this that I am made to endure?

I can not endure,
Without you,
Proverbial,
This life is like a prison,
Trapped inside a mind that is working overtime,
To prevent my own demise,
Panacea,
Batman, I call out to you,
I call out to you,
How can it be that I am here in mind,
Though my spirit seems to be dying,
Will you hear my cry,
Will you set me free from this dastardly torment,
Three minds,
I and I and I,
The deviant composition within me at birth,
That now rings true,
Especially…

Panacea, please, hear my cry.

As I walk this earth,
Unsure of whether or not,
Cogito Ergo Sum is satisfactory for my own survival,
My social contract is to be removed from their world,
My Leviathan an ongoing battle,
I continue to plod toward death,
Moment by moment,
Inside a tired body,
With a troubled mind,
Needing pills to keep me inside the manageable,
Can you not hear my cry,
Can you not feel my pain,
Can you not set me free from this burden,
Can you not reveal to me a better way,
The better way,
Is there a better way Panacea,
I plead with you for something that will set me free,
Please Panacea set me free…

Or  paradoxically,
Despite my truth,
And these words are more than truth,
They are my daily affirmation,
A search that eventually will end in death;

Am I to suffer at the hand of my own reflection…

Am I a malignant narcissistic fool,
Rambling,
Ranting,
Unsure of himself?

This is why,
Panacea,
Daughter of Asclepius and Epione,
Sister of Laso, Hygieia, Aceso and Aglaea,
Your brothers;
Podalerius, Machaon, Asclepius, Aratus and Telesphoros,
I am calling out… For you,

Love;
Signal sent;

Panacea!

SDM

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One Day Closer…

I struggle with worry,
A life threatening worry,
An empathic worry,
Through no fault of my own,
I did not ask for this brain that I was given,
I did not ask to be cast into the stormy waters,
Of My Black Dog’s urine pools,
Raining on my parade,
It’s foot squarely placed on my neck,
The throbbing pulse of my own discontent,
Paining me in ways I can not share,
No, I did not ask for this life,
Something out there in the ether,
Graciously allowing me a blessing and a curse,
Blessing for an intelligence that baffles even me,
Curse for the reasons same,
Yet I did and continue to do everything I can within my power,
To ensure that the natural gift,
Was accented by a voracious hunger to learn about as much as I could,
This allowed me to be lifted,
To a different plane,
Whereby the ether implores me these words,
These words are not what I do,
They are what I am,
For without them,
I would be slave to this non stop engine of a mind,
Firing on all cylinders and with overdrive,
At times menacing,
As the stern admonishments of my own lack of self worth,
Reveals to me daily that this battle is endless,
And continual,
Since the time of my birth I have been dying,
Internally waging the good fight,
With a baby like innocence that is tempered by what I see,
By what I experience,
By what I feel,
Puck I am,
Forcing recognition of a blinding weakness of a world that I seek to understand,
Finding no way save these words,
My desires like anyone else’s,
Just a silly boy looking for an elegant girl,
The frame of my existence,
For love is the only currency worth trading,
As I find myself at the foreign exchange of ascending emotions,
Though I seek not the picture perfect idyllic western love,
The one with two kids, a dog and a white picket fence,
I want something authentic,
I do not want the western love,
With possessions that own me,
No, I am, free, from that burden,
A truth that makes me smile daily,
Even if only for a minute,
A full tooth smile,
The temporary radiance from this tragic soul,
Realizing that with this mind,
I cannot have my cake and eat it too,
Knowing that these sad Irish blue eyes,
Undercut a truth that is obvious to any curious enough,
To access the recesses of me that I barely entreat to surrender,
I’ve lost patience with myself,
Understanding that I can no longer just be along for the ride,
But need to be an active participant,
In the good, the bad and the ugly in me,
Fighting for my survival,
In this test called life,
Fearing that it is passing me by,
One sentence at a time,
Or perhaps I am capturing anew,
The hands that will guide me to the inner peace I so desire,
Perhaps now,
In this way I cannot only see the door of possibility,
But may walk write through it, that’s right, I said write,
My way into the life I’ve imagined,
Since the moment of my birth,
For I am dying,
As are you,
And as the pink hues of my own admonishment,
Send me to a vivid and surreal hell,
I know that I must embrace the heaven that is this existence,
Even if sometimes it makes me feel,
As if the story is flat,
Mine celebrated in words,
Seemingly effortless words,
Those torment me,
That I cannot resist,
I did not ask for this brain,
Nor the misgivings that threaten my very life,
As poet warrior I tensely advance,
One day closer,
Non Omnis Moriar.

SDM

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