nothing concluded 102

sometimes

wondering who

is he talking to

when his pen moves fast

skipping a page

just for the sake

of it and who

are his readers

what do they think

as the ceiling fan shakes

itself loose

and comes crashing

down might

end a life so incomplete

nothing concluded...

another tool

often stop to wonder

what he is really thinking about

thunder rolls overhead

dump truck above the clouds

he’s on the second floor

writing hunched over

a makeshift table

is it raining or are those tears

he is not winning the game

stares down at me

looks right through me

not even there…

no thanks

another day wasted writing

some might say

refusing to believe I am being selfish

one ‘no thanks’ after another

how many stacked before me

before it breaks my focus

another day with pen in hand

wasted with words unappreciated

how is it I constantly don’t fit

into anyone’s day no matter

how bored they might be

another day maybe

no thanks…

as close as i get

some come close

then others come even

closer not a selfish thought

desire merely to be heard

possibly appreciated

as a thinker a writer

or simply a compassionate

human some come so close

that it hurts to see them go

they may never know

why or what they even see here

no words then what do I hear

thoughts rush sit patiently wondering

when a close encounter

will have truth as it’s back drop

when someone will look into

these eyes for real

some come close

and realize they are in the wrong place

sometimes I am always dwelling there

thinking too much expecting too much

even expecting nothing at all

who are you who come close

show me your mind

still can’t understand my desire

to connect on another level

some close and I will hide

this time I am right here

dreaming about a random stranger

finding more there then

anyone I thought I knew…

meant to say

a dream song

to make berryman proud

never enough time

tell everyone listening

still there

until the end

what he really

meant to say

who he really wanted to be

whenever however

and who has he become now…

a thought that might not be

can’t budge the pen tonight

anticipation and a thought

that may not show it’s face

bought three cards

don’t know which one

will fit the occasion

so much empty space

his mind becomes a chalkboard

washed clean daily

ready to be filled

what will the thoughts become

tonight under moonlit sky

after seeing sunset alone

what will become of the mind

as the pen silently moves… 

help me escape

forgot already

what am I in for

call the official over

he might help me

escape

forgot before finding

the words

remembering only

that I am in trouble

need to figure it out

forgot though

what it was

I was trying to figure out…

cure for an unbalanced mind

an intoxicating dream

woke up with a smile

only words and a thought

more often than

he would like to admit

an intoxicated dream

each with medicine of their own

cure for an unbalanced mind

he will drive right off the map

if he has to

not fast enough

an intoxicated end

to an intoxicating dream

trying to stand

falling back to his bed on the couch

someone ruined him there too

he will forever let it happen

never to be ruined again

renewed energy

closer to the sun now

an intoxicating dream

present for two months now

curious as to where the road might lead

coming to realize that all you have to do

is be there in whatever way

is most beneficial

an intoxicating dream

and a race against the clock

that doesn’t even exist

would probably walk miles

or drive for hours

an intoxicated dream

woke halfway

then awake finally

and it’s time to say good-bye

extended ten minutes

where is the mind now…

all thought hidden

can’t give what you don’t

already have yourself

remember though

nothing has been asked for

or blindly and silently expected

won’t risk it again right now

what do I even have left to give

at this point still trying to find footing

so much time spent spinning

both gold and brass shine

confused into thinking what I see has worth

only to realize it never had any

too many mistakes this soon

don’t need any more

can’t give you what you don’t already have

yourself what was it you can’t give

my lack of confidence keeps me stationary

so I write something down

that I might read at another time

or maybe never

at times thinking it’s crazy

to write this much

about what these eyes might see

who you are not what you have been

or where these eyes don’t judge

no matter what they might see

call me crazy but

would rather be crazy then

keep all the thoughts hidden…

words heard

stamp this and send it

letter to the world

someone might wake up

words burn the mind

put onto paper

who will stand tall and move

a change of ideas

stamp it and send this

to anyone who will listen

surprised when other minds

are awake and listening

connections made

no one will argue this

if they do stamp it

and send this to them…

plastic people

what happened

to all the plastic people

melting in the sun

burning up

tough as the move

from the water

burn the bridge

no return

plastic people can’t care

they’ve got real lives to live

and real bills to pay

and real situations to deal with

in this world only the plastic people

seem to get anywhere

living this new mind frame presented

a new group of plastic people

around every corner…

so bright

nothing’s in my way

back to where I was

alone in the tower

crumbling under the weight
wait and I will be back

have no choice

it’s what I do

come back to where I began

alone losing track of time

again spinning the mind

far from what these eyes see

tangled mind so blue

at times so bright…

torn late night

late night torn

what he’s got to do

forgetting he’s got a job

getting lost

in the conversation

over the wires

says she is on the floor

late night torn

staying in bed

probably the wrong decision

work will probably

not be worth

what’s on the other side

of the conversation…

who we are

all is not lost

constantly beginning

soul free memories never die

close to the heart

body is small part of existence

spirit of the mind

must be somewhere

those we love

tend the flame

that will always burn…

buddha's eyes

under the infinite ceiling

walls on top of thoughts

not wanting them to fade

refueled and looking to the sun

for strength falling anyway

with a moon

and those Colorado springs

thoughts looking through

buddha’s eyes

a wish or two

may never come true…

again silent

beads around the neck

the scent of something else

cloud sky can’t disguise

the clear blue there

and back again silent

without a trace

egg on the face

thinking of that fading light

hope it fully diminishes

beads around the neck

hair standing on end

can’t interrupt the new life

given told with words

finally lets go

and its all a dream…

curious not demanding

cruising along

yellow is my only color

one that’s been given

in a warming way

light has too turned

fiery red curious not demanding

standing never really sitting

twisting the norm

all ready to go

no need to cause waves

the ocean is too

wide for it to sink

curious and not

demanding…

orange & red

an explosion

orange

light bears down

what kind of response

warranted

where is the strength

an explosion

red

emotion rising up

what could be seen

where would he

find the words…

back to the cell

don’t send me back to the cell

let me be free

high in the tower

no one is watching

air is thinner

leave the shackles on the floor

hands free falling

to a comfortable level

loneliness is always

momentary

the warden won’t take kindly

to the events as of late

escape only to achieve solitude

somewhere else

cleansing spots

desire deemed evil

twins stare back from

the green wall

finally pulling the stop

on a bathtub full of tears

always cried in vain

inevitable return

with punishment

thoughts seen as lunatic

rising on the feet

move to the edge

without bars sight clears

without prayers

standing on my head

no matter how much they laugh

my punishment

my decision to flee…

place to put them

who else is going

to take notice

stand no longer

afraid to say

what’s on the mind

let everyone look

are they going to judge

won’t budge

do it daily

don’t care about the stares

if they really want to know

they would ask

one out of fifty

might wonder

who paints with pen

all the songs sound the same

someone says

he’s out of his head

why aren’t more like this

not any easier

looking at the thoughts

and creating

a place to put them…

death to bad habits

one hand unconsciously

twirling already curly hair

out the window

watching a baseball game

in progress

thinking on former friends

fallen from a ship

some sort of watery death

self mutilation of the mind

constantly overturning identity

uncertainty rules the skies above

one hand still spinning

as if nervous or confused

thinking no one seems

to understand…

just a few pictures please

unplug me now

in the corner idle

spinning wheels

turning down dead end

then one way finally stopped

just a few pictures please

nothing more

if it’s unwanted

will stay home

under stars safe

idle high can’t be good for engines

still so much to see

someone screams

daylight fades to a humid gray

don’t know where the mind goes

while all is idle

thoughts become mountains

to sit on unfriendly mirrors cracked

not broken serious when joking

idle he finds his hands again

reaching for what’s unattainable

should know by now

only fails if he doesn’t try

hands shaking

beginning again

no reason to be there

ended up there

stroke of luck

still had two years left

on the last broken glass

smashing under failure’s hands

not mine or his…

hearing sadness

trying to find

pieces to complete the puzzle

gold on fingertips

innocent criminal gold

can’t remember waking up

held maybe one in dreams

at a loss for anything

hasn’t been said

know enough to know that

you deserve more than

all the cliché phrases used

and of course now it is raining…

have a good one

useless and hanging

from the phone cord

forgetting what he owned

doubts anyone’s opinion

somehow forces himself higher

into the cloud ceiling

away from the ground

proving him useless

time and time again

wondering simple twist of fate

or coincidence

what was it in words

making a connection

inevitable or meant to be

there at a cross roads

no directional signs

clouds putting a push

on the darkness

another thought riddled night…

violence within silence

violence within this silence

knowing what he wants

the jester juggles words

instead baffled by the mind

portrait painted

by someone famous

convinced of that at least

they have tried to tie the hands

balancing high only dreaming

of another fall when the leaves

cover the green of summer

hot under this hat no one left to amuse

but himself and a woman

down a dark hallway

walking wanting to run

no footing in foolish shoes

not remembering

whose they are where he is

becomes irrelevant

at night slinking back into his room

in his dreams he runs

smokes rising there again

waking too early…

thursday breakfast

what was it you

can’t understand

far from the water

buried in sand

covers what thought

lost in a day

sun shining burn

my back wish

I could go away…

head clutter dreams

watching the tear roll

down a cheek

for a week

feeling weak

so to speak

just wishes the day

to get on and end

a thought to send

at the corner bend

won’t pretend

if it’s all a game

don’t want to play

still will stay

until the day

told to go away

seemed so real but

seams always rip

missed with the razor whip

on a trip

lost the grip

loose ends frayed

he ties them up tight

alone each night

blurring sight

and not quite right

watch the tear

dries where it rests

word up off the chest

surely must be blessed

birds falling not far from nests

refusing to fly

in any direction

might be prone to infection

future becomes constant correction

no help from the reflection

glass broke years ago

under a scarred fist

but swing missed

just got pissed

instead of kissed

tear really doesn’t exist

now

if it ever did

ran away and hid

thoughts morbid

into the pot right under the lid

keep the head on straight

with a rhyme

too much time

none to rewind

or fall far behind

up now down

losing only to gain

won’t stop for pain

or wait for the rain

all might be in vain

will someone hear

the silent screams

busting seams

coffee came with too many creams

head woke up cluttered with

too many dreams…

mental sculptures

nothing to stress over

my mind free

to create mental sculptures

paintings of where I

would rather be

wishing to express properly

however that is

wish I could tell you

without this fear of falling

failing miserably

wish I knew

thinking sun boiling

all thought…

anyway

celebrating some sort

of independence

at what expense

guess I should be proud

forefathers with raised fists

against the crown

still what right

to evict the inhabitants

who’s to blame now

wouldn’t want to live

elsewhere

that’s not how

positive change is achieved

the kings don’t wear crowns

they wear suits and drive expensive cars

how much freedom do we

still have to celebrate…

go nowhere nature

really shouldn’t care

and so he doesn’t

but sometimes it is fun

picking apart those

might be trying to do

the same in reverse

do not deny intention

look what it can do

calling on the guru

for guidance instead

a fuck you and a smile

something understandable

two pine nuts and a pile

of manure shaped

the letter L

he really shouldn’t care

don’t let it get too hot

sincerity as serious

as fun house mirrors

suddenly everyone

more attractive

some one travelling down

the hallway of memories

strewn now with garbage

soon he too will be cast aside

for a new more fun trip

bouncing like a child with a new toy

appreciating connections made

child becomes power outlet

finding sanity centering

those around through movement

travelled far from the outlet and the plug

laughing at the materialism

he has nothing attempts a handshake

apology ahead of time for the fuck you

with a smile won’t look into those eyes

nothing there and he shouldn’t care

amused by tales and go nowhere nature…