PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

with tell-tale signs of boredom climbing up the back

walls of my essential inner being

my soul laughs at my stony heart with its betraying

methods of deceiving

somewhere along this life's road I've managed to lose

my cleverly colorful innocence

now it seems with my constant preoccupation of hiding

the mental scars

of this niggling I can't seem to dispense

if I could I would knock this jumble of thoughts that

constantly plague me our of my undeserving head

sometimes I believe that thoughts and feelings are the

only things that separate the living from the dead

this idea i only halfheartedly said

you see, as our relative ages take us on many of our

corresponding inhibitors we easily shed

my thoughts become livelier and lovelier as they pass

through logic's cruel chamber door

in an exchange of intimate details they take the

fifth after they consume four

in my self composed theater of dreams

reality has no level, goal or floor

modesty allows me the crawl space in which to lightly

touch upon facets of my life before unexposed

parts unknown become greatly upset when irritated or

opposed

retrospect is a most wonderfully creative tool

now, if I could only teach it how to warn me when

I'm about to make myself look like a floundering

fool

as I let this ink dry upon the page

I read myself to sound so bitterly droll

when I started this strange diction of therapy

that wasn't my original nor intended goal

all the thoughts I possess and eventually print

don't don't explain what it is back exactly that

I'm getting

sometimes all you get from a poem are a lot of

magnificent words

but not from any to mention that I've recently

written

now, out of my mind I wish to be getting

for my head has indeed now started its darn

infernal splitting................

(written Sept. 7,1991 pm)