Available for purchase!

Musings of the Mad Volume I: Every Stitch Tells a Story Purchase Page

Wednesday, October 22, 2014


I used to sit down and the words poured out
The depths of my soul carried so much dark pain, beauty, love and poetry
I couldn't keep it inside.
These days,
The muse plays hide and seek
Showing its face to whisper in my ear
In that place between asleep and awake when dreams are real and life is hidden away
Today, I walk like a strung out porn star
Spilling out tried and true poetry with hat in hand for just a little coin
Exchanged for the good service of my verses
Interruptions to the process create a disjointed connection in the words
Taking me off course
Up, down and all around
Into the places I never wanted to go until
I'm here
Battered (but unbowed)
Bruised (but unbroken)
Bottled (but unbridled)
Now I sit down and the words are trapped inside
With no poetry to explain the things that are happening to me
When there are no words to convey the black and white shades in which I see the world.
I never thought a rainbow of gray would brighten my day
Yet here we are
On the Borderline
Approaching this crossroads 
And it finally becomes about choices
Do I choose to burn out?
Or do I choose to fade away?
Is it better to rule in hell?
Or is it better to serve in heaven?
What is real?
Or What is imagined?
I write like a child afraid of the dark
With just enough light to keep the monsters away
Sitting amongst all the broken mirrors
Never looking It in the face
But always scratching the itch left from healing wounds
Some self-inflicted and some received cash on delivery
When I already have IOUs instead of fucks to give
And I find myself praying for the peace of a coma
The calm of knowing I'll never let you down again
Instead I sing the words
"It's just a trip not a way to ease your pain"
Coming down to place the mask securely over this facade
I realize that the Monster's Muse is shared through the magic of alliteration
And I no longer need a mirror to see
The twisted parts inside of me
And the face only a mother could love
As she walks out the door
Promising a better life
Delivering better lies
And so here we are
On the Borderline
Drawing me closer
Ready to sell my soul
Signed, sealed and delivered
Soaked in the blood of innocents
While I pretend I'm amazing
Walking in the empty trail left by my lies
Toward the promise of a love
Secure in a sense of belong
Until that secret weak spot shows
And I'm left
On the Borderline
Standing alone while I fall
Just to feel better

No comments:

Post a Comment