Products of the World (poetry chapbook)
A
Shady Spot
As
a younger man I strived for Glory
Hungry
for experience.
My
smile reflected my joy
For
a worthwhile adventure.
The glory could not be restrained.
Now
as an older man
I
want rest and a quiet mind.
Simple action, without restraints
While
asleep I have blinders for my Schizophrenia
And
my mind off the rails is silenced.
Today
as a man
I
sit in a shady spot,
Away
from the tentacles of the heat
I
saw a baby boy’s hand waving at me.
The
baby boy exclaimed, “It’s sunny.”
And
I said, “Yes it is and I am in my shady spot.”
Beached
It
is beyond your control
The
undertow
Of
the wave
Washes
over you
You
can be sucked under
And
it can take you off your feet.
You
may feel blinded.
Nothing
artificial
Yet
by grace
You
are forced onto the beach
With
the wind knocked out of you
Breathless
and paralyzed
You
have survived yourself.
A
natural rare smile slips across your face
A
sign of renewal
As
you step closer to the light of recovery
BROTHERLY LOVE
Sliced
From glass
That wasn’t
Thrown against the wall
The looks in your eyes
Swallow my eyes
With the next high tide
I do not live your life
But as you are rocked
What else you can do
I fall down at your feet
Wishing I was there to help
Each on in your troop
Are fragments of my heart
It is not enough to say
I love every inch of you
But you and yours are why
My world spins
Balding Jesus steps down from his cross
To sing a Grateful Dead song
I am either under the bridge
Screaming to be heard
Or a member of a sing-a-long chorus
My family, true and alive, can dance
To the raspy tones of the piano man
As my island named Sobriety
Steps out to shine without haunting shadows
The cold chills of ice cream
And end of the year breezes move me
Far from the dark
The dolphin are responding to gestures I can’t
understand
But in my own head, I am choosing new behaviors
The dolphin have no choices, but my choices are my own
Cruising Through a winter day
Distracted by the blonde highlights
Of a girl I don’t know
Going down with sun
Somewhere in the Caribbean ocean
Everyone has the thought of someone
Everyone
has the thought of someone
He
is alone
She
is alone
Or
you hope she is available
So
you think it is only a matter of time
Every
man has the few that left the lasting impression
It
is usually in their youth
Maybe
alcohol breaks down the door
Of
getting to know you
And
opens you up to their beauty
For
whatever reason the ending isn’t with them
Then
there are time and trials
However,
You never forget
Even
if at the time
The
thought of them is the size of a pea
You
remember
You
reflect
On
spiritual times
Not
as in religion
But
when your heart dives naked in a roaring ocean
With
intoxicating youth
To
guide you at the time
Maybe
they are a story you still can not define
You could not label it then
But
now you think of it as
your
warm grandmother’s quilt
Covering
you up in December
But
on some empty thinking days
The
past tip toes in
And
all you can do is smile.
There
was a time, when my troubles were like walking on broken glass,
Creating
scars but no blood.
There
was a time monsters only visible by me,
Were
in the corner of my eye,
Squeezing
so hard
I
couldn’t breathe.
"Fear
your past so you won’t go back."
Now
I feel God’s hug,
Swallowing
me whole;
Like
my grandmother’s quilt,
Each
stitch carefully placed.
I
become warm,
And
feel love, even though there is no one else in the room.
The
troubles will always be there;
A
surprise waiting around the corner.
But
love fills the spaces
Left
empty by my past.
I
don’t have to remember,
But
keep stepping forward.
All
that matters is now
Not
the past or future.
You
talked me off the ledge
I
was not alone in the desert
And
I can’t say I love you enough
The
first time I rode a feriswheel was with you
First
time I saw a poisonous snake
Was
at your lake house
Even
then I knew I was protected.
And
I can’t say I love you enough
My
second mom
Not
only that
A
carbon copy of my real mom
And
I can’t say I love you enough
During
my transition to Richmond, Va
I
stayed in your attic
When
I left basic for Christmas
You
reckonize me first
And
I can’t say I love enough
Your
voice, your way,
Embraces
me with love
And
I can’t say I love you enough
It’s a perfect Thanksgiving’s meal.
Her arms embracing me like a quilt.
A shot out of the blue like the first taste of coffee
in the morning.
And yet, she isn’t even in the room.
Contentment as in waking up from a deep sleep or an
animated dream.
How can you feel so near,
when we live in different towns?
You are among my good parts,
And you soothe my insecurities.
Despite my shaky knees you are the soles of my shoes
In the rare moments when I have to stand for myself,
Your unseen presence reassures me.
I love you with a different shade of my heart
Without even hearing your voice.
I could be taken away by rapids
I could swim in rip tides away from you,
But you are with me.
I am a child again,
Opening
a Christmas present beside a warm fire.
Thanking you once again.
I
can be in a crowd
But
be the only one present
I
feel the air in my lungs
And
lukewarm breeze on my shoulder
There
is sweat dripping from my forehead
I
hear voices in the distance
That
tip toe in my hears
This
a defense from my monster
Inside
my head
It
dissipates
As
I am in the moment
He
becomes invisible
Like
my distracted self
Take
the injection
Swallow
the pill
Feel
content again
Remember
If I can’t touch it
Then
it isn’t there
Selfless
She didn't have
a vacation until close to eighty.
Before then she fed her love ones including
her kids and grand kids before she ate.
then there was the jockey lot in Anderson south Carolina,
she was so excited by the deals
for the most bizarre things, she said, the word
jockey lot in one mouth full without breathing
the jockey lot which was one massive yard sale
she raised four kids
with about five grand kids
selfless she would given it all
and she did to her love ones
but her first vacation was at the beach
she questioned whether or not the sand would hold her up
when she stepped on the sand she thought it felt like sugar
she spend an extended period of time watching the birds
and collecting the treasures on the beach
even the treasures she didn't keep
she gave them to her neighbors in
the nursing home.
the selfless seek contentment
not with money but the satisfaction of others
If I wanted to tattoo a soul on my body,
Whose face would it be?
What song?
Or sunset
Can you visualize God’s whisper?
Or God’s Wink
Maybe it is a pleasant hallucination?
That is there for a second,
And gone like a breeze
A cool chill in the summer
Or touch of heat in the winter
Like a kiss
As if you bit in to a juicy piece of fruit
I can’t put my own soul into words
Even if I can see I still feel blind
With knowing what a soul looks like
The
last word,
The
last breath,
The
last Salute.
A
shell of a man he once was.
His
soul has left us.
Leaving
his pale light of memory.
And
friends and final goodbyes.
The
conclusion of a life of leadership
And
yet, his spirit lives on.
Every
time we recite the Pledge
Or
wave a flag.
So,
stand and remember:
The
last word,
The
last breath,
The
last salute.
The
Safe Refuge
Out there I have mental
health issues.
In here I am a
schizophrenia warrior, and I am managing.
In here I am triumphant.
What I cannot touch will
not hurt me.
Voices storm the castle
in my mind,
But they will not win.
Intrusive thoughts try to
take the hill,
But they will fail with a
shakedown of clarity.
The virus is outside, and
so are anarchy and destruction.
Prayer is my defense.
Outside I am outnumbered
Because of the mind games
assaulting me.
Like putting lights on a
Christmas tree,
The poetic symphony
strings up the words
I cannot explain out
loud.
I am inside where I
belong.
And
in the grips of Insanity
What
carries my hope
What
keeps me laughing
When
the voices seem to control my mood?
I’ve
often joked, “One you’ve lost it, you can’t lose it again.”
I
laugh,
But
no one else does
Normal—so
boring you might say
When
my imperfections shine
Like
the lines of poetry
I
am writer
Unnoticed
However,
changed by the real world
In
adulthood I value my smile
The
struggle is beautiful,
Once
you can look back on it.
Now
I have settled
But
these words might say otherwise
I
am alone on the bliss
As
a young man
No
one told me I would be so content at this age.
I
laugh,
I
sing,
I
dance,
But
there is still fear
That
I am trying to ignore—
I
ignore, that I might live out loud
Like
a tornado that touches down
Spinning
all around her family
She
is always on stage
The
world is her audience
Who
has the love bigger than she is
As
she skips runs and dances
Her
chin quivers
When
she doesn’t get her way
Her
laughter is infectious
And
her curls are natural
To
ride with her
Ask
for no currency
But
a loveable smile and hug
I wish I knew the voice that says, “I love you.”
Just like I wish I knew the voice that calls me
“stupid”
There are times when I am in my apartment
That I feel waves of love.
There are times when an insulting voice
Takes me in a current further in the sea
There are times when brass horns, bass, and drums help
to put my tip toes down in the deep
Sometimes they are times when I do my best to ignore
the anxiety that comes with paranoia
I walk around this safe box to find it was all in my
head
It may be raining outside
But I am not in the hurricane’s Path
When I bath the water is warm
The water is a strong stream to keep me clean
I can’t wash away my symptoms
Just wash the thin layer of dirt on my skin.
Businesses standing in line
To be the next voice that defines a generation.
The voices will go viral.
Will it be a twenty second commercial?
It might be a beverage or logo on a piece of clothing
To be later forgotten until the next voice.
The voice to be cashed in like a paycheck.
It will not enlighten a generation,
But be a meme to be clicked on and then forgotten;
To be a memory that pops up on social network,
Then later forgotten again.
Resurfacing again after a decade
To be a highlight or a regret.
The voice will connect with an attempt to be shared
By screens.
To be clicked
With our short attention spans.
What have our short attention spans brought us to?
Facial Expressions
In the crowd of nameless faces,
Their eyes are as the sun going down.
The glow inspires a quick hello
To cover up the uncertainty.
The faces remind me of an open canvas
On portraits in a museum.
I cannot sketch the faces
Or record them with aimless brushstrokes.
Like the abandoned faces of my past,
I have seen that glow before,
And my eyes would brighten in response,
Like a staring contest
Trying to determine my reality.
Their souls entwine with mine,
I feel the spirit of unity.
Now the crowd wanders,
While I grasp the glow of expression of written words.
Poetry… good enough to hang on a wall.
On the beach with a view to the horizon
Which has no returns,
Or repeats.
The waves, like a jazz piano’s improv,
Sound like static
In between two stations
On an old transistor radio.
Clouds move softly across the sky
Animated yet void of sound.
A slight chill brushes against my bare cheeks
As I stroll past the public
In layers of thick fabric
Sporadically scanning the beach for broken sea
treasures
On a brisk winter day.
With purpose and no retreat
I gaze into the distance of the afternoon with
potential
But without a spark in your eyes.
Am I doing something wrong?
As my steps fall, chemicals inside my brain spread
Euphoria
Just like the sound of jazz
Clearing my head in relief.
Helping to distract me from the chaotic ballet of
thoughts in my mind.
As the afternoon gives way to evening,
My record needle becomes quiet
My night meds yell, Come to a halt.
And as my body lies in comfort
My breathing is like a gentle breeze
I think of the only voice of approval that was real
that day
My mother who is my anchor.
Otherwise, there would mostly be insults
Of shots of the unreal, but familiar voices
Of an enemy inside my head,
And feeling the presence of faces from my youth that
are not actually there.
Many people like me need distractions to get through
life.
Alone not lonely
I am my own roommate.
With an unseen crowd in my head.
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