Tag Archives: manic depression

Love Denied: The Whole Hole

Abatement of attritions seized,

Long winded encapsulations of flicking fingers,

On keys that respond though not in kind,

Whirling fascinations of presupposed indifferences,

To the untrained eye,

Of I and I and I,

Three parts of self,

Detached from the Id, Ego and Super Ego,

Instead a delicious Freudian dilemma,

Where Pandora’s box opened,

Revealing several demons lurking inside my shadows,

Dark companions,

Those that invite libation,

Yet never liberation,

A secret secreted through ill defined words,

Plentiful though, indeed,

Scattered thoughts,

Manic suppression of fatal tendencies,

Hidden behind cheers of one more,

Uno mas,

Sante’s and Nok’s.

Prolific wanderings,

Wailings and whatevers,

Yet never a might have, could have or should have,

For I rise to challenges epically,

Instead these illuminated bastions,

Of a soul redux,

Cast aspersions of an inimitable kind,

Desperate longings of oft fulfilled dreams,

Set adrift on unsafe mechanisms,

Deities of defense,

My own,

As I and I and I battle for the supremacy of one,

Love,

Almighty love,

That which whilst I bask in the glow of its resplendence doth know,

Unmercifully my deepest and darkest hallucinations,

Bellow for my ultimate demise,

The champions of my decades long search,

Poking, pleading, presenting,

Obstinate objections to my outwardly manifestations,

GONZO,

Simple protestations that I will not go quietly,

Into any night, good nor bad,

To satiate the desires of my imaginary companions.

Here I stand,

On the precipice of something new,

Precisely poised to push past the penultimate pantheon,

Of Black Dogs and empty bottles,

Surpassing the shattering sound of a shotgun blast,

Straight into the den of my own iniquity,

Analyzing antiquated efforts at assumed acquiescence,

Smashing that something not quite right,

Writing it with something not quite wrong,

Too long Poncho to Quixote,

That now I must steady my stead,

Right my resolve,

Resist my resistance,

Futile,

In accepting that the whole hole,

Is not love denied,

But instead love accepted, ascended and awesome,

In transforming the broken emotional I and I and I,

Suicides committed daily,

That I now stand corrected,

I,

I,

And I.

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My Iniquity

 

The darkened sky,

A transformative canvas,

Black, as a starless night,

My soul heretofore rising and falling,

On seemingly blatant whims,

Manic yes,

Depressed no,

Setting me on an uncharted course,

Of history, the present and future yet revealed,

Empty, like a new found easel,

Palette stained with the blood on my hands,

And yours,

Decision made,

To have the most perfect child of the light,

Months of manic expression,

Blessed transformation of my soul,

Decision made,

Miserable repression of wretched sorrow,

In a feigned attempt to rid myself of my acceptance,

Of a choice, I dare not make,

Let alone accept,

But what choice could there be,

Cleaning the slate to record the singularity events,

We’re barely yet to understand,

You, moved on, with nary a thought for what we’ve done,

Me,

Trapped inside festering deliberations of the apparent lie I bought,

Selling my soul once more to an imagined devil,

Selling my soul for your comfort,

Placing your needs above my own,

As expected,

Demanded,

By the circumstances of fate,

Hmong Key,

Deleterious choices that were not mine,

But to which I am a party,

And will eternally be strained to accept,

The theorems of our own grandeur decorated,

Foolish grown children,

Playing with fire,

Whereby I alone am burned,

By the footsteps I will never hear,

The cries I can never answer,

The first words I will never hear,

Launching me into a vanguard of disheartened insurrection,

Perplexed, by how quickly in a moment, all can change,

And for what,

To what profit,

In the red,

Celebrated scourging accolades, unearned,

For once more I failed my child,

I failed my love,

Hmong Key, how did I fail you?

I did fail you, didn’t I?

Like an exam I could not understand,

Words like gibberish, heard but never agreed,

For the wide canyon between our desires,

Grand,

So easily unseated by the opinion of others,

Family or no,

The choice made, was yours and yours alone,

Though I can not fault you,

For you did what you had to do,

And I stood by,

Like a trainer ready to throw in the towel,

Constantly reimagining what could have been,

What should have been,

What most I appeal for to the Ether,

What most you chide as a non event in your life,

Evidenced by the ease in which you,

Tossing our child, our love and me sideways,

Castaway by immature reconciliations,

Serving neither you nor I,

Though surely a life sentence I am again to serve,

Parole from these manifestations an unlikely event,

Causation,

Dwelled on like a circadian rhythm without deliberation or meditation,

Though for all the days between that and this,

I have thought of little more,

Than ten fingers and ten toes,

Blue eyes and black hair,

Beyond the superficial, horizons seen,

Realizing that I have flown too close to the sun,

Clipped wings,

Shattered soul,

From the veracity pained before our mutual eyes,

The tree of life, yours, mine,

And our beautiful child,

Stolen from my grasp,

As I clutched to the hope that finally,

Here and now,

It was to be,

Or instead not to be,

As my vicious companion,

My black dog reminds me,

And despite the noblest of intentions,

I failed you,

Our child, unborn,

Aborted,

And myself,

Authentic pleas loudly expressed,

Though the Ether did not hear,

Would not hear,

You refused to hear,

For here we are,

Separated by time and space,

Forever connected by the love we made,

Conceiving an innocent victim,

To our foolishness,

From which our existence is unabated,

Though not that of our child,

As we slaughter you whole, one by one by one,

As I have time and again and again,

Lost that most dear to me,

Ten fingers,

Ten toes,

Woe be not me,

Yet distressingly I bemoan what could not be,

For reasons clear as mud,

Yet crystal in your demise,

My child,

Beautiful child,

Innocent,

Choking as you did on our avarice,

Only to breath into fresh suggestions, disregarding our malice,

As if you could,

As if you should,

Bent on allowing us to thrive and continue to survive,

Though you, innocent, could not live,

Despite the persistence of our choosing,

At your expense,

And that of our continued optimism,

For now restless I consider,

All you could have been,

And all that I stole from you,

Your first breath,

The beating of your beautiful heart,

The resplendence of your love born soul,

Regardless of my veneration of it,

Devotion to not just the idea of you,

But in fact, you,

I am now stuck in place,

Quicksand of emotional sinking,

Peculiar reproductions, of the time before,

And the time before that,

I guess the third time is not a charm,

But instead the noose I wear around my neck,

Waiting for the floor to collapse between my feet,

The only punishment suitable,

The bear trap crushing my soul,

One hurtful thought at a time

Evocative spectacle of menacing exquisiteness,

For truly you would have been exquisite,

In my mind’s eye you always will be,

What of your thoughts Hmong Key?

What do you see when you close your eyes at night?

Is the nightmare the same as for I?

Portentous, sinister and yet curiously inviting,

As three dimensions squeezed into two,

And for a time two became three,

We,

Mother,

Father and unborn child,

Aborted,

As the final countdown reached the hour of my defeat,

You knocked up, pregnancy a suit you wore well,

And me knocked out,

By the simplicity of your words,

Followed by actions,

Transiting mine own compromise once more,

Door closed on the haunted house of my trespasses,

Under pressure,

Pressures,

That I, myself, had ill conceived,

Though you, my child, were not,

Instead realized in a moment of blind passion,

That continues to consume me,

As we did you,

Foolish children we were,

Are,

Loosing our souls,

To gain what?

To what avail?

Loosing each other,

And a piece of ourselves to which we will never arise,

At least not I,

You traverse unanswered, buttress our intimidation of beings,

She and I,

Mother and Father,

Become judge, jury and executioner,

Executioner, once more,

For both she and I,

Loosing more than just you,

But a piece of us,

Conceptions of love revealed,

To be the false hope of prophetic wisdom,

Fanatical depictions of what was, could have been and now is,

Not,

By what right of universal law,

Those commands from the Ether,

What right,

Did we have?

Ultimately giving way to the thoughts of man,

Touchdown in mere minutes upon this empty void,

Whereby you suffered,

I suffer,

Depressed and manic,

Considering the role I played,

The life you gave,

That I allowed to fall victim,

Once more,

An act of love, true and necessary,

For her, not I,

But I was a passenger in this crime,

Necessarily so,

For as man, I have no right,

To deter the decisions of your mother,

Or any woman,

No excuse offered,

Rather the acknowledgement of my delinquency,

My crime, convicted,

For I did stand idly by,

Waiting for you to die,

Of my feebleness to prevent this,

Longing for you to see the light of day,

Rather sent to the pits of hell,

By me,

Those steps I long to hear,

Now are the nightmare that I experience,

Night and day,

Flamboyant bizarre dints,

My psyche dented,

From a child love invented,

And cowardice took away,

Too easily, though not for I,

Or I and I,

Broken fragments of a dream shattered,

Reflecting the reality of the decision made,

And for what?

A proper penchant of collective tête-à-tête,

Though no words could I say,

Other than I supported her in your demise,

That also represents a dying on mine own,

Awkward,

In stains, blood, shades, hues and tones, all red,

Millions of them,

Demolishing what I thought I was,

For what again I’m become,

Failing you,

Failing her,

Failing,

Period,

Deluded by hidden lies,

Behind a radiant smile,

And glowing eyes,

That now seem, at least a bit,

To have lost their glint,

Just as my own,

Brought to the forefront of perception, judicious,

Judge, jury and executioner,

Ignorance of universal law is no excuse,

For what we’ve done,

Restrained sway of the eye enclosed,

Millions of possibilities,

Only one outcome,

As I failed you,

My child,

Beautiful boy or girl,

The language of my greatest burden,

Playing God,

While He/She/It/ They laugh,

At our imprudence,

Suffering now my crime of omission,

In a galaxy confined in the brain, rightly so grey,

For in this decision there was no black nor white,

Only grey,

The central question, importance and measure of our lives,

Our desire born love child,

Delicate haunting arms outstretched,

But to no avail,

You begged to be assumed, moved, valued,

Though no value did you have for she,

Seemingly only me,

As our tree of life is evermore death,

Yours,

Amplified in bewildering events,

One pill at a time,

Followed by the source of life,

Water,

Which again found the path of least resistance,

And I was held captive,

In symbolic penitentiary and isolation,

Our intention understood,

But not accepted,

Rippling loops artifact humiliating me once more,

Gushing tears at the banality of this man,

This consecrated gift, ours,

You,

Raped,

Without recourse or further consideration,

How can one be so cold,

Decision made, no explanation and instead the running of the bulls,

Whereby the Key,

In fact, once more became the lock,

That holds me prisoner,

Shackled by the very thought of you,

And what I have done,

Once more,

Ever more,

It was me,

It was she,

And the empty vagaries of an apology,

Falls upon her deaf ears,

And my wounded heart and soul,

Forced solitude to engage my darkest hour,

As the hour of your birth approaches,

Stolen from you,

Stolen from me,

I am failed,

I am convict,

Guilty,

Of crimes against humanity,

Against you,

My unborn child,

Cast aside,

Aborted,

And thus my torture ensues,

Considering the iniquity of man,

My own,

Iniquity,

 

I am,

 

Sorry!

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Manic Depression (Crash Again)

You’ve got your ball

you’ve got your chain

tied to me tight tie me up again

who’s got their claws
in you my friend
Into your heart I’ll beat again
Sweet like candy to my soul
Sweet you rock
and sweet you roll
Lost for you I’m so lost for you

You come crash into me
And I come into you
I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream”

I hate myself… for loving you.

I love myself…for hating you,

No… no… no…

That can’t be right,

Though these feelings are so intense,

Blossoming with every passing moment,

That it feels as if I am being run over by a bus,

Repeatedly,

By you,

So no,

I don’t hate myself for loving you,

I hate myself for hating you,

when in reality things just fall apart,

just like I have,

just like I did because of the decisions we had to make,

perilous and spirit shaking,

Yet,

I love that with you I knew a home,

A real home,

Such that I have never known,

I love myself for loving you,

Better as I am,

As a man,

For having known every part of you,

And there is so much more I would love to discover,

Will you let me

As I am discovering every part of me,

You always remind me,

That I had to find that place,

(that now seems I have discovered anew),

where I had true inner peace,

engaging my Buddha,

detachment from everything and nothing,

look and I am there,

searching for you,

high and low,

doing everything,

EVERYTHING I CAN,

To get you to see,

these are the thoughts of a ravaged mind,

ravaged by love,

ravaged by you,

I want to be ravaged by you,

And I know I will again,

Won’t I?

I think of you at least fifty nine minutes of every hour,

One minute I am left consumed,

Sorting out the parts of I and I and I,

That seem damned to lovers limbo,

At least for now,

But today’s present,

And all the days between now and then,

Is that you will always be comfortable knowing,

That I care for you,

Deeply,

That I love you,

Truly,

I love myself for loving you,

For the provenance of my souls advance,

Lay neatly,

Undiscovered in your hands,

For the past is the past,

People can and do change if the circumstance is right,

Soon to be unearthed in your thoughts,

In your hands,

Precious though they may be that ripped my heart right from my chest,

Did you look at it while it was still,

Beating,

No… no… no…

That is not right,

You see, this is what manic depression does,

Do you understand?
Do you care to?

Just as you have shown me the way,
I too will be your guiding light…

And yet,

Truly you reveal in me a gentleness,

A greatness,

That I have never known,

One that I now embrace,

Fully and completely,

Transforming into a better man as

You touched my life with cupid’s fingertips,

Guided by my ladies Destiny, Serendipity and Fate,

And now I am left in a contrast and comparison,

Of the days we shared,

The memories we made,

The life we knew,

The love we knew,

The love we still know,

Yes… Yes… Yes..

That is right,

It has to be,

For you are a heavenly present,

My divine Angel,

Muse,

Hmong Key,

Which is why,

As I battle myself for supremacy of self,

Becoming more each day,

I know…

I believe…

I long…

I love… You, I love,

So,

I wonder…

Was it all a dream?

And if so, can we dream again,

Love reborn,

By compassion, understanding, persistence and honesty,

I love you

And I know

You love me too.

I love you Hmong Key!

SDM

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Hallelujah

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4

At every point,

That I have turned,

I have been disappointed,

And disappointing;

Blessed and cursed,

As I struggle to comprehend,

How I end up this way,

How we all end up this way;

Searching and not finding,

Seeking and discovering no solace,

Leading to problems of the spirit and the soul,

Crushed intentions and broken hearted,

As Leonard Cohen,

(through this beautiful rendition, extraordinary)

Tugs at the outstretched strings,

As picturesque and subtle beauty,

Only comes in black and white,

Moments of sepia exaltation,

And the only word I can spare,

Is Hallelujah?

At every point,

Of this tragic life,

Divine comedy,

I have pushed on,

Rifling,

(Though no Hemingway pulled just yet)

Pursuing,

(Though not sure of what save love)

Figuring out,

What I know,

And what I do not;

Knowing that the latter is winning that battle,

And yet, the war rages on,

Deep within,

Returning still to the faint hope,

Of the sun as it reaches a cross,

Just as it has in my life.

At every point,

I have reached toward the heavens,

The glorious celestial body from which I came,

Spiritual and not religious,

Every atom of my being,

Star dust,

The wisdom of billions of years,

Contained in this fragile frame,

As I thrash about,

Again,

Cohen beckoning me to believe,

Something,

Just not sure what,

Nor is he.

At every point,

I have found,

That I am lost,

Wandering lust fully engaged,

Doppelgangers and Black Dog’s,

The voices in my head and temporary delusions,

Polar opposites,

Attempting to know,

That which refuses to be known,

In a useless quest,

That will only leave me,

Hanging,

Crucified on my own submission,

To that tender emotion,

That is rife with terror,

Fears and in my case, always;

Abandonment.

At every point,

One way here,

Another way there,

Lonely and yet surrounded,

Never quite alone,

Never quite inside the line,

Again,

The clouds,

My tears reveal,

And again,

Leonard pulls me back,

A giant,

Pulling out of me,

Everything I have left,

But can I show it?

Did he?

Do you?

And if I do,

Then what?

Manic depression,

The continual vicissitudes,

Posited dimensions,

Whereby my demons are my shadows,

And the circles of hell constantly invite me,

Ever nearer,

To a fate we all know,

Since the moment of our first breath.

At every point,

Loathing save for when I love,

For whom I love,

Is like an angels choir,

Many voices united,

(not like those in my head)

In prayer,

But to who or what,

Is not so clear,

And if it were, would it still be so majestic?

Leonard says he has done his best,

And I know he has,

Tried,

As I have,

As I do,

Continuing daily

To begin the process anew,

Of healing,

Still torn, not tattered,

Battered but not beaten,

And yet,

For us both,

It is vain,

That we wait for something we will never know,

At least not in this life,

Could we?

At every point,

Hallelujah,

My cross screaming out to be seen,

Born as we all are,

Of suspicions and longings,

Wanting to be felt,

Aching to be known,

For what I am,

For who I am,

For when this life is over,

My words will remain;

I did my best,

And whatever you are;

He/She/It/They…

Hallelujah!

SDM

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Judgement

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLF_WNF3qp4

Detained by my own self loathing,

I could not see past the mask that I had assembled,

Equal measure,

Comedy and tragedy,

The story of my life played out on multiple stages,

And in multiple dimensions,

Partially as defense mechanism,

Partially as undeniable stupidity,

For this open book that is my life,

Need not be censored,

Need not be less than what it is,

For you who stand in judgment of me,

Should, as Bob Marley says;

“Judge not, before you judge yourself,”

Acutely aware of my many faults,

Including things that you may not view as blunder,

I stand ready to embrace them,

And if you can not,

Then I must say unto you,

On your merry way,

Trot out of my life,

Like an unbridled and wild horse,

For you will never understand me,

You can never know me,

I am built on Shakespeare’s fatal flaws,

Shakespeare’s fatal flaws a guide map to the stage direction I call life,

And where you see weakness,

I find an ocean of strength,

I find a determined will,

To live,

To be,

To become,

I find virtue (and a little vice),

That now brings me to this,

A manifesto of my own accord,

A new manifesto,

A new life,

My design,

As intrigued by destiny and fate,

As determined by hard work,

Book ended by two parts of myself,

Doppelganger,

Sweet and innocent me (sweet yes, innocent, Judge not)

And then,

The darker,

More Mr. Hyde part of myself,

The voices of my past and present,

And the literary giants of infamy,

Hemingway; “Write drunk, edit sober” Key word; “Drink!”

Calling me to action,

Beyond my fatal flaws,

In spite of them,

Revealing all of me,

Evermore,

Without censor,

Without fear,

Without worry,

For I am,

Sender,

and I am,

Love,

Faulty and flawless,

For me,

For you,

For us!

SDM

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