Far Away Here

Far Away Here

I see the air
I feel the light
I touch the sky
With you tonight

I walk on water
I breathe your skin
I dance on cliffs
Beginning to end

I hold you close
In a distant way
Like an orbiting planet
Or
A castaway

A quiet despair
A knowing fear
To let love in
Then disappear

I invent conversations
To feed my delusions
I dream of words
With no translations

I wish for love
On moonless nights
Dark is the color
Of my soul in flight
Warm is the thought
Of you tonight

Depression is Like an Angry Barn Cat

God I haven’t been this depressed in a long time.

For me, depression is like an angry barn cat. I don’t notice it until it appears, hissing and scratching. And just when I think that it can’t be too bad, because afterall, it’s a cute little cat…..WHAP…..the claws come out. And that’s when I know that I’m in the barn, trapped. I’ve got to get used to the darkness and the dust, because right now, that’s where I live.

It’s hard for someone who hasn’t dealt with this type of mental illness to understand the complexities involved. It is for the person experiencing the symptoms, too. Because each time there are nuances…different feelings and emotions that erupt like a volcano, not knowing when the mountain will explode. Hoping there are no casualties. Knowing that there probably will be a few. Hoping it’s not me, this time.

I can throw the darts and aim for the target.
I’ll miss but I’ll try
I can’t see the bullseye.

I know the point of the game;
I just don’t want to play.
I can’t make sense of it.
I’ll never get it right.
I’m not a good aim.

I can’t see the lines
I know I’m going to lose
I know the darts won’t go far enough or fast enough to stick.
I know I will lose.

They bounce off the wall nowhere near their destination. No points. Laugh it off. It’s just paint on the wall. But people get mad that you’ve damaged something. That you’ve ruined something beautiful. If you just knew what you were doing you could be right. You could do right but you’re not right so you can’t be right. Isn’t that right? I throw and I throw and I can’t get there and I see the lines and I see the destination and I keep throwing and throwing and losing each time. In despair. And I’m frustrated and I’m a loser and I can’t help being a loser and I can’t help feeling like a trapped animal and I can’t help smelling of darkness and dust.

Cross Haired Diplomat

Sometimes
It makes me think
about Alanis Morissette
“Isn’t it Ironic”.
Don’t you think?
To get blown away
At a Safeway.

You’re just so too good to be true
I got my sites on you
I want you in my cross hairs
Your blue eyes and golden hair

Face the Facebook
Gobble the Google
Gotta map to find you
This gun is all for you

I’ll find
The places on your heart
I’ll find
The crosses in your hair
I’ll find
The things to destroy you
I’ll find a way
Because I care

We can’t even read the Constitution
Without the Chamber yelling
It’s a volatile situation
Maybe they should meet at Safeway
No gavel…and a little more leeway

You can’t hide forever
We can blow you away
At a Safe-way
Anyday
Who’s to blame?
Valeria Plame?
She’s got good cross hairs
Looks just the same

You can’t escape from us
Jump on the Facebook bus
Or impale on the Palin Map
Cross Haired Diplomat

What do we worship more?
The Cross or Cross Hairs
Apparently
We’ve got souls to spare

I’m not a Rothchild

I’m not a Rothchild
Just a lost child
Searching for something
But there’s nothing
To find
In here

I’m not a Flaming Lip
I’ve tried to be hip
Toking with a smoke clip
I need to get a grip

Wanna take a ride
To the Oceanside
Head blown in
Like a driven wind
Knocking down
What I’ve never found

I’m out of breath but I can’t stop the death
I’m out of time and I can’t make it mine
I’m out of luck and I’m hopelessly stuck
Because nothing changes
And nothing rearranges
In here

Life Bit Me in the Ass

When I got sober

I finally discovered

You can't drink down pain

You can't drink down the past

It'll bite you in the ass

Drinking down pain

Will bite you in the ass


When I stayed sober

I had a life hangover

Full of headaches

And heartaches

That I didn't watch pass

The first time around

I had a life hangover

That bit me in the ass


Bills I didn't pay

Husband didn't stay

Even my dog ran away

I had a mangy puppy hound

Who didn't want me 'around

That mangy puppy hound

Bit me in the ass

I don't blame him

That dog knew class!


Moments of clarity

Are fairly

New to me

I never saw

What you see

Why is everybody

So angry?

Could it be?

They wanna kick me in the ass

No more Hail Mary pass

What the hell can I do

For you to see my point of view?

I never knew a beer or two

Could bite me in the ass


All the weight

Of all the years

That I tried not to remember

Is feeling pretty heavy now

Like and anvil on an ant

No super human power here

Just trying to steer clear of beer

Otherwise,

I'll have a life hangover

For the rest of my years


But if I like I'll drink a few

And forget about the past

And on my epitaph

It'll read

"This was a waste of grass......"

Even in death

Life bit me in the ass

Soylent Pink is the New Democracy

When I eat a burger
I want some more
Like Oliver Twist
On a porridge score

I don’t have a beef
With a bitty burger
But please sir
Can I have some more?

Scoop me up some luscious slime
Liquid Lean and quite sublime
Finely textured in a spoon
Can we eat this on the moon?

Yummy Pink Slime
Finely textured in a spoon
Creamy goodness on the moon
Super Pack it
Down my throat
It tastes so good
I wanna choke

On Yummy Pink Slime
Pick it up at your Five and Dime
Climate Change or Socialism?
It tastes so good
A Baptism
Of Yummy Pink Slime
I’ll slurp it up all the time
Give me more
I’ll drink it down
Don’t have to cook
What’s the crime?

We’ll kill you off
One by one
Add ammonia
To hide the stench
Of greed and decadence

Soylent Green tastes good to me
Soylent Pink or
Soylent Green
A little off color if you ask me
At least I knew when I ate Granny
Soylent Green is People
But Soylent Pink is Yummy Yummy
Pink Slime is the New Democracy
Better Eat the Dog
Before It Eats Me
Soylent Pink is Yummy Yummy
Soylent Pink is the New Democracy

Your Love Is Pain

As I was heading to East Texas, I saw a mailbox that was tipped over...looked like someone took a bat to it...which is typical entertainment for the folks in East Texas. Tradition actually. Anyway....this is what I took from it......

Your love is like
Throwing beer at chicken wire
It cuts and it stinks
Like hitting a mailbox with a bat
Don't need to read nothin'
To get the message that
Your love is pain

Like a hook on a string
That gets caught in my cheek
Like a nail full of rust
That pierces my feet

Your love is pain

Like a yellow dog with mange
Like a truck with no tailgate
Hit a bump and everything goes away

Your love is pain
Like a toilet with no drain
Septic and stained

Like a red dirt cake
With Bull neddle candles
Like poison ivy
On a hot day
Like getting lost
In a polluted swamp

Your love is pain
And I'm tired of the drain
You're a swamp cat and a sewer rat
Predator and vermin
Not meant for nothin