PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am thoughts
I am confined to this position
I am
This place breathes in my life and exhales laughter
It hates me
I’m worried, because I only feel compassion
And it hates me more each moment for my ignorance
I do not know the present any more than I know future
A mystery
I call it mystery to give it labels
To give my life a meaning and a pretense, a pretext
For the next crucified idea I’ll nauseate out of my brain
Dead-like skull, crushed by this awkward silence
Between our romance
Our toxic prolix, the insane nature is my only nature
And I lecture rhyme to get away from time from time to time
As if doing jumping jacks across the islands erupted out of volcanoes
Gushing with that fulminating hate, as if skipping rope across
The earth, grounding myself upon the bases of each lop sided greenery
In the midst of all the seas,
As if pretending to be bigger than who I am, net-picking the fruits of this
Frivolity can bring out a detail I’ve not seen before, but I’ve seen it all
And I’m not guided by sight any more than I’m guided by my mind
A pretense, a pretext, the only real next meaning resides within
A random juxtaposition of two lines, imposed upon each other
I am pretending I have a future within this turmoil
As if I have a future within
This turmoil is the real non-me, the unreal me “me”
A repetition that requires skill, it’s all just a joke
Juxtapose one second upon the other second to create a lifetime
Worth of life, I am that life, and I do not require math to give me oxygen
The being of my meaning is the meaning without meaning
I am, a chocolate covered grasshopper, crispy on the crunch, soft on the touch, I am
A misunderstood anomaly, a perplexity, a common fallacy, injected with
Too much emotion, too much rapture, too much disparity
I am a verbose combination of too much “verb”
A presupposition that this existence requires meaning is already too meaningful to explain
Me, it is my consciousness
Conscious of my life, thoughts
Thoughts confine me to it
But I escape it through thinking
Realizing I do not require escape
I try to pin point the target within the orbital sphere of my dart board
And each second is a moment stuck, forever plastered to this transparent dashboard
Like sticky notes
I write haikus to save time, to save myself from time from time to time
I tend to go on for decades, on solar batteries
Magnifying each step with my hidden intuition
As if I am the person behind the wheel pushing on the cognition, on faith
As if the knowing about this disposition embeds understanding upon my bed of misapprehension of what am I
I am that lost concept never captured, caught, lost in time
By the time I am found I am lost again, and in finding my loss
I am lost in everything
I am, I am beyond time, I only use it to explain the melodramatic idiosyncrasies
But the tenses I use are arbitrary
I am, the random spark of a sparkling jewel caught by the right side of that third eye
I am pretense, pretext for the next whatever the fuck
I am presence.
A fluid transition from future to past, like a fire I am never the same, and yet always the same
I am forever changing because I am forever
I am