PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

should i just

drip?

it seems like

a

reasonable decision

at the

moment

definitely a

judicious choice

there's little

in me,

the syringe,

but i'm still intravenously

applicable



if i'm losing my mind

i'm blind to it

and have begun seeing it

as an almost

artistic development



but the realisity

of the situation

may be vehemently

opposite



contrast

compare

what?

which things?

what corresponds with what?

can you explain it to me, sir?

sir, i've got to make the union



lost from one dot to the next

these dots aren't numbered

and form no silhouette sort picture

either





don't you remember you told me you loved me, baby?





this piece

associates

with a void



nothing

connects

with

nothing



have you recognized that already?

surely...





i'm not connected to you

i never understand what you say

but unconsciously

i am able to keep up

with the pace of conversation

i acknowledge it's development

how one thing progresses to another

i am able to reference back to

previous statements

i am able to point out irony

and create relevant hypothetical situations

and i am able to entertain

you





the less aware i am of myself

the more aware i am of you

please, never be diffident around me

for i know you're not hearing me

only yourself and your doubt and lack

of conversational confidence

anything you contribute is fine

that goes out to you

to me

to all



i can feel the violent fluctuations of the collective mood of mankind

please, i'm alright with you

just be sincere

and everything will be fine

sincerity, worrilessness

....



i've lost my ability to write but have gained so much compassion

you can tell me anything

other's experiences is all i have

my life is uninteresting

because i keep it that way for personal reasons

i blame boredom on other's sometime

but it's my own lack of creativity and innovation



i have you

and your stories

and i add them to my banks of memory

i have some divisions of my own personal memories

(details, nothing schematically whole)

and most of them, i promise

make me smile

sounds, sights, smells

tactile sensations



i wish i could hear the thoughts of uncivilized animals

meat isn't murder, it's just recycling

everything

can be

recycled

emotion energy is recyclable

i feel quite satisfied

yet there's a small notion

i'm being nonsensical

but that feeling dissipates



















postal script:



yesterday,



a cashier at the southern family market



purchased for me



an arizona green tea



for i was parched



and quite grateful in the aftermath







you do not need reasons be kind