I want her (or him)
I want to be (like them)
Kill my hopes and rip my dreams apart
I want two million (cents that aren’t worth a damn apart)

Don’t you notice the message of the show
It’s not a problem if you’re not at all fast or slow

THE REAL GOAL IS CROSSING THE FINISH LINE

And if you notice

EVEN THE SLOWEST TEAM
STILL MAKE IT (ON TIME)

Because in the REAL amazing race

By that I mean

THIS BACKWARDS fucked-up situation

This complete and total abomination

where NOTHING not ONE THING
is as it seems

THERE IS NO TIME AT ALL
THAT IS JUST ANOTHER PART
FROM AND FOR AND OF AND ABOVE (way, way above…)

Some call it Olympus
Some call it A (Circus)
Some call it the Himmel (or Heaven)
I don’t like many of these words, that’s actually not true
Because I like them all except ‘Heaven’ and ‘Himmel’ but that’s the same word isn’t it?

Because
We’re the same, you and me
One plus two, always equals three
Two seeds from the same tree
Always come from the same tree

What you do you do only to you

How far can I express the truth
Before I run out of teeth like Babe Ruth (sorry “Baby Ruthy”)

All good my little man
This one’s done, put it in the can

As you wish
My good old man

Note: All the three images are different angles of the same person/being/thing/no-thing

Subscribe now

The way they say
GOD IS THERE
AND YOU MUST PRAY
K-I-S-S-I-ALL-DAY
Ok dear Moses I do thank you
You brought it from five hundred
To (almost) Two

I learnt to live and then I learnt to die
And the whole time I was never able to cry
So many lives
So many dies

Have you ever (sighed)
And not known why?

1

I WOKE UP IN A (scary) MANSION
Or was it a hotel.. (but do I really care??)

Today's the first day of my (probably) very long life
Not as a baby, but a 7 year old (at least, that'd be my guess)
There's nobody around, I'm all alone
Trapped and deserted in this big old room
I can walk, I can talk
I can sing till my voice gives out (and then it comes back, how strange..)
I have the little sense
I'm being followed, I'm being observed
The walls have eyes and ears
And it's all kind of a blur

I really should be terrified
Far left and right out of my mind
But somehow.. someway
(Maybe it's the perfume someone's blasting through)
I feel a bit right at home (with my terror)
My terror, she follows me
She's a girl about age of 3
She doesn't let me see her
She dodges away she hides

I only know she's there
Because she giggles and laughs and sighs

She's really somehow terrified
At least, that's what I think I know
But you know, I'm only 7
What do I really know?

I bumble and I stumble and I look for a way out of Hell
I'm not sure if this is Heaven
Or the gates to another Spell
I've looked and I've tried
To throw open all the doors inside
I even looked down and up
For a key (though there isn't a place to use one)

I tell you, I'm aghast
Out and up at (my own) wit's end
Although I'm only 7
So maybe I only have 7 wits (they're all at their end)
The perfume is nice
Smells a bit like cooked (egg) rice
But I'm really getting tired
Wand’ring round and round
The terror, she's got boundless legs
They almost don't make a sound (but they do.. gently)

I spin round and round
Trying to catch her sneaking up
Once, I finally do
That's when I see
(and I'm woken up ..)
She's really not that terrified
She's really not that little
In fact, neither am I
What kind of (sick) game was that?!

2

I loved myself every second I've been (alive)
You wouldn't believe it if I told you (how I cried)
You'd see me like
A hero from a scene
Something out of
a delusional dream
I'm not that hero,
you make me to be
But I've no (or any) right
to tear (the lie) from its seams

A million lives I've lived (almost at once)
Never thought I'd ever
Come up trumps
I've seen things nobody should ever see
Guess what I mean is
(Grass aint always green...)

A million lies
Two trillion cries
I wish a thousand thousand times
I could (go back and) say goodbye

I've seen a loved one cry (before she...)
I've never found the strength
To let go of that

I wish sometimes
The sky had never shone (on all those memories)
even if (a few of them)
Shone bright as the sun (in my heart)

The heart, funny that
She can cry so hard (and die harder)
But a weak bitch she aint
Keeps comin back for more!
(She tryin to settle the score?)

I hate her stubbornness
Her determination (refusal to give up)
But (truth be told)
Without that, I'd be (dead or) in a rut

See, whatever the pretty-voiced sages say (some of them, too 'true' to be true)
If you never give up...
You WILL eventually

3

I got a new job
Fixing up a grand ol' place
Anybody'd think (with a brain for real estate)
it was a waste o' space

It's falling apart
Since the day it was built
But creak as it might
(She still stands all-right..?)

This janitor gig
Aint what I'm cracked up to be
Ten thousand years
Not a sold sign (or a soul for that matter)
Did I ever see

Been wand'ring the place (it keeps shifting around)
Is it a room, a house
A mansion or more?
On the very top floor
What could be in store?

I wonder if all the (missing faces)
From burnt-out memory
Olympus, Mickey-Enna
So many places
So many lives
Too many unsolved cases

The janitor Detective life
Big old (gum) Shoe
Aint at all
A game for two

When you're in the mix,
It's going down...
Last one standing
Gets (to wear) the crown

I hate it all
(the memory) most of all
Where's the sink
(Deep enough) to drink (away the pain)?

4

Frozen Memories
Of mine (another mine of mine)
Not filled with copper
Just half-finished spaces

Lies and lyres
The (deepest green eyes) way they scream
Goodbye

I've burned (the images)
Deep in my brain (or wherever they're stored)

Sometimes I wish
I would be able
To be bored

The life, the mirror
It's like a dramatic old scene

But someone forgot
To write the end
To the big dream scene...
(Help! Write the end!)
THE END (thanks!)

5

Putting the thoughts of mine
On the blackboard
(Feels like solving a crime)

(These 'guys and girls of mine')
They've (surely) done (their time and mine)

Sometimes I wish
Everything (in the past)
Could turn out fine

These thoughts of mine
A scream in time

Sometimes (he acts) like a Pant-O-Mime
Bant-A-Loon
Heavy on you

Sometimes I forget
(how to)
Tie my Shoe (and there's gum on the bottom,
wonder where that came from!)

(On the face of it)
It'd make you (wanna) Quit!

25 days
or was it (half a) century

65 years
halfway (to) mystery

Some Time (it took)
Till I gave up (the art of) pantomime!

I'm called back for more
the invisible crowd, it roars

I can see them fine
(in my little mind's eye)

these thoughts, these dreams
Cracked at the seams
Sometimes it seems
I'm only made of Dreams! (or Cheese..)

Dear friend of Mine
Old lovers too
This story of Mine
Includes You, too.

You might realise
(How the dots align)
some day we'll all find (I hope so..)
the right way
Inside (the Mind)

If you enjoyed this post, please consider to Subscribe:

Subscribe now

I am (currently) experiencing a most strange thing
a waking dreaming,
the playing of a scene (it's not on film, it's not on youtube,
it's not anywhere - it's still being filmed,
at least, it feels like it)

there's an enormous ENT-ity, let's call him ELLENAY...

He is a big old tree, bursting at the seams, with branches, mosses, flowers and birds
chirping and singing
all day long
the 3 white doves (just in his beard)
are barely 3 days old (but they won't shut up!)

I think it's delightful,
the crescendo of sound
the roaring of nature, of life, of teeming adventure,
the calling of spring, "top-o-the-mornin'!"
and similar private family wishes

I sigh and I smile
wishing I was a part of (such Nature)

He's big, real enormous
each branch could fit a dozen (somethings...)

each root could dig
a hundred floors deep (each..)

Anyway, this sleeping big giant
woke from a (hellish) dream
Such a frightful sin/scene
startled him right up & now he's on his "feet"

Trampling round
my big old library
Making and breaking
Smashing and crashing
Such a cacophony of sound
Hear it for miles all round

Anyway, he does no damage
(the invisible elves fix everything right up)
(making sure it's always up-to-snuff)
(He looks a little tired, a little bit sore)
Climb on up, give him a (belly) rub
that's a dear, have no fear
I may look old (that's an under-exaggeration)
But really, I've only (till now) done what I (was) told...
The clock, it chimed (and woke me up)

Now I look all round (for something to read)
Been asleep for a billion years (or more),
think I've had enough!

the hole says
someone scratched it on the side
‘I may only write (poetry and poems and poetically)
for others (and not me)
cos they deserve it.
(but not me)’

seeing that
true but ridiculous assertion
description of what is true
(and hair-brained.. but true nonetheless)

I laugh (so maniacally)
and I breathe
a little sense
of relief

and I feel free
(three centimetres free
but it’s still
a bit more free
and my breath
comes
a bit more
easily)

I recorded this poem twice and I am fascinated to hear the difference. One sounds so sad and the other sounds much more positive. Above (at the top of the page) you will find the ‘positive’ version, below is the ‘sad’ version:

If you’d like to receive new posts in your inbox, click the button below:

Subscribe now

She inspires me
to give up
the lies, the good-byes

She shows me an image
a snow-capped scene
Where cars drive by
like a quiet dream (quite pristine)

I stop and I sit
and in the mind (to think), I quit (for a moment)
How would things be
How would life be
If things weren’t quite that way (they are now)

If
instead of silence
pitter-patter of rain

People dying from shame
People living from pain

What if there was another way
For us to dance our lives away
Together, without shame
and pain
even in the worst of December rain

I look her deeply and quiet
As the lights slowly wink out

Lover, I start
Don’t forget
to shout.

Ihsan

For some reason I feel inspired to share the original version of this poem below.
Perhaps you enjoy it more than the current version:

She loves me, she loves me so
She loves me from dusk till "I-don't"
Through all the pains and all the pouring and outpouring and outbursts and outcries..
She inspires me, to tell her no more lies
The snow-capped forest, the cars go by
The way they ride, is like they say good-bye (or is it hello?)
I stop and I sit and I wonder in the still
How life would be if it weren't so quite very ill
I sit even in the quiet, in the empty (between the bustle and the hustle)
I wait and she waits
For the other
To make the first move

And if you’re still reading, hit that Subscribe button to receive new posts in your email:

Subscribe now

What isn't broken,
Don't need
Any Fixing

I tried and I lied and I died
I am not sure if I ever survived
the cure for a lie
is either
another lie
and another
and another
until you stuff your Self so full with
choking on chalk
and me-sir-E
drown yourself on what you aren't
till your bird can take no flight

“Alright, alright
ALRIGHT!” she yells
in a fit of furious, desperate
help-less-ness
Trying to break her spell
Trapped on the ninety-ninth hell
Of the magician's pell

INTERLUDE

Here comes Mr. Lewd-A-Kryss
Back from a month-long tryss(t)

He likes to show us how (and then he takes a bow)
One can hit the rockest of rock-bottoms
7 stories 'neath 'kini Atoll
Sings a pretty white thing
Sing, thing, sing

Remind us there's a way out this mess
Wake us clear out from our deluge
Desperate to pass the test (what test?)
“and then the gavel came down
and the Mister Judge said
YOU FAILED
TO SUCCEED
IN FAILING
(therefore, you win)

Take the prize car for a spin
And before I forget
Climb out of the Hell you're in
Wipe your sleeves and count your ease
For the ones who sang your life, it seems
Were not quite right of might, it seams
Tying your mind up with dreams
I'm far too addicted to
“what's it mean?”

and other
wonderful prison cells

We read about Moses parting the Red Sea (is it an allegory
or is it really about what's going on inside of us?)

We read about Jesus turning water into wine (is it an allegory
is it a true story
or is it just a made up allegory
that's true but like
made up to look like it's not?)

We read beautiful quotes from terrible warmongers

"You don't know which part of the food contains the benefit for you"

Well, warmonger or not, he's RIGHT, isn't he?
I mean..

One should learn
to RECOGNISE
and ADMIT TO RECOGNISING
the TRUTH

wherever they find it, right?

Even out of the mouth of a baby that can barely speak
Even out of the mouth of his worst enemy

Ever had a pain you couldn't stand?
Suffered so bad you thought you'd never recover?

Maybe you never did recover
Maybe your body's had it
You'll never walk again
You'll never breathe quite the same ever again (but well, you know,
you've probably had multiple incarnations before;
what's one body out of a thousand? Out of 10? Out of 3?
And if it's your very first one, well, welcome to hell! Have a nice stay
Don't forget to give us a 5-star recommendation on our website..)

Anyway, you had that pain, so bad you couldn't stand
You couldn't walk, you couldn't breathe

And you said --

I DON'T WISH THIS KIND OF PAIN ON ANYBODY
NOT ON MY WORST ENEMY

I mean --
WHAT KIND OF A MAN CAN SAY THAT?
WHAT KIND OF A WOMAN CAN DO THAT?

Your worst enemy
The worst one on the whole planet
Your worst fear in your entire (terrifyingly creative when it comes
to imagining terrible scary distressing and unovercomeable things) IMAGINATION

And yet
out of that

Out of literally your WORST FEAR
like..
FIFTY OUT OF FIFTY in the princess bride torture scene (it doesn't go any higher..)

ONE HUNDRED OUT OF HUNDRED OUT OF HELL

And you say--
I suffered
I suffered
I suffered
And I HATE YOU SO MUCH (my worst enemy)
But STILL
I don't want you to experience THAT
What kind of person are you
That you can do that?
Even the saints in heaven or mount olympus or in the temples
or under the sea, wherever they dance and pray and sing and play
Are still wondering the answer to this question...

If you scrolled all the way down here, click Subscribe:

Subscribe now

I've looked and looked for Adam Sandler;
Sorry, wrong actor - I mean the guy from The Mask, or the Grinch,
or the Devil's Advocate - no, wrong film .. Liar, Liar, Liar, Liar, Liar, Liar, is the one I meant..

So we're all walking round, out of sound, out of tune, out of power..
Everybody's walkin' like, where is he, where is me?
Nobody even knows a thing what they see;
Nothing what you see is the way you want it to be
Not a thing you see is the way it wants you to be
Then, why is it, that even a blind man can sometimes see
And yet a lined man (with perfect eyesight, 20-30 or 50-50 or 20-10 or whatever
is the classification for "perfect eyesight" these days..)
CANNOT SEE A TRAIN HEADING HIS WAY

The train goes BLARRRRRRRRRRGGH
The man doesn't even flinch
Stands right there
Not even a deer in the headlights can he do
He don't even see the lights
He sees nothing but his fears
Not even his tears
Can clear his eyes

So I watched Donnie Darko (well, that's a bit generous,
it took about 1 or 2 weeks to get through the whole thing..
10 minutes here, -2 minutes here, and finally,
the rest of it with about 1.5 hours in one chunk was done..)

And well, I kept falling asleep
and waking up during the whole film, isn't that fitting though?
Isn't that like,
what the whole film is about? (It's not about Donnie..
Donnie is only pretending that it's about Donnie, right?)

Gyllenhaal is a superb actor (I loved him in Prince of Persia too..
I'd be tempted to rewatch it, just to see him at work..)
but it's not about Gyllenhaal, it's about Donnie. Or is it about the viewer?
Is it about me? Is it about you?

Who is Donnie? who are you??

WE ARE ALL DONNIE

Donnie, Donnie Darko,
man of many faces,
Talent of many cases (not Gyllenhaal.. Donnie. Stick with me, I know it’s hard..
It gets harder, but then it gets easier, what a tragedy, but you wanted it that way, right? Say WRONG if I’m wrong! Say LONG if it’s been too long!
And say SONG if you’d like a song!)

SONG, SONG, SONG, and LONG, LONG, LONG

Alright, my son, my daughter, my mother-from-another-uncle;
Where should we begin? 3 requests for 3 seconds of song?
A song that’s too long? I mean, sorry, I’m just the chef, I don’t take the orders,
let me ring for the bell-hop..

BELLHOP, TO THE KITCHEN PLEASE…

Hello, bellhop here.

But you’re .. but you’re .. you just took off the chef hat
and put on a bell-hop hat..

Right, do you get it now? I’m a man of many hats.. talents.. faces..
Just like Donnie. Just like Gyllenhaal. Just like the Rabbit.
Just like YOU.

Please, don’t lump me in with your crazy friends and their crazy games,
I’m having a hard time keeping things straight,
I can’t even stand up straight, I don’t know if I’m sleeping, or if I’m awake,
I don’t know what is the date,
I can’t even remember what I ate, and that was only an hour ago..

My dear old soul, let me sing a song, something to ooze, to seethe,
to ease and pierce, the tangled web, the tangled threads,
the heart of yours that wants to be free, at ease, to sing, to be free…
(you can have and be all of these things, my dear…
just sit back, take a sip back, relax… and think back…)

Donnie, dear, or Charlie So..
Lived once in a little cottage in Meddinggo
You lived a hundred lives at a time
Never sure where you were
Or if it was alright to stand in the rain

Full of hate, full of shame
Full of pain, right to the nose (and then some)
You taught me something, that’s to be sure
You taught me how not to live,
For that I am sure

You taught me how to live while dying
How to speak without saying a thing
How to look at things and see not a thing
How not to see
A train on-coming

You taught me all that, a neat trick of your hat
I’m very thankful, and grateful, all those things
See, I wouldn’t have seen, that life’s just a dream
So quickly, so freely, if you hadn’t shown it to me
When I strutted my stuff,
When I thought I was the best,
Better than all the rest,
Ace of every test
When I thought all those things,
I did it secretly,
I did it so cleverly,
Not even I knew I was thinking those things
And yet the secret-keeper went on keeping his secrets
And he did a marvellous, wonderful, fantasticus job

In keeping of secrets, in burying of hatchets (in one’s own stomach),
Did you meet a fellow better at it than that?
Did you meet a fellow who could swallow his hat? (And pretend he hadn’t done it?)

You talk a lot of trash,
I think you’re only made of trash - you are what you eat,
You are what you say
Why don’t you take your opinion
Throw it out in the rain

Ah, my fellow, on that we agree
My opinion’s worth not much
You can get it on sale for free
And when it’s not on sale
It’s worth not a penny to me

Why do you confuse me
Why do you go round in circles
WONT YOU FUCKING JUST SAY IT ALREADY
WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY
IM SITTING OUT HERE
IN THE POURING OF RAIN
IM SITTING AND SULKING
AND I HAVENT GOT ALL DAY

I’m sorry, let me bring you a raincoat, there’s a good fellow.
Sit in the cold as long as you want, I’ll leave the door open,
As I’ve already done,
Feel free to come in, (sure, the water’s fine out there…)
But it’s warmer, and it’s cozier
And it’s all for You
There’s a meal on the table, it’s Alphabet Soup
I think you should be able to find your name in there
Or some other word that gives you pleasure

NOTHING GIVES ME PLEASURE
I TAKE PLEASURE IN PAIN
CANT YOU SEE
TO ME ITS NOT ALL THE SAME
YOU ENJOY AND YOU LAUGH
YOU HAVE SO MUCH FUN
I ONLY HAVE FUN
WHEN I SEE YOU HAVE NONE!

Well, my dear
Aren’t you quite the poet!
In enjoying your misery
Your sulking, your authenticity
I mean, how can you hate a fellow who’s honest like that?
How can you hate him, even when he wears the big black cap?
Pirate, or hater, whatever you may be
At least you seem to see things clear enough to see
You can say it how it is, how you want it to be
And you say it without stuttering, without any shame
How can you say it, despite the pouring rain?
You must have a real strength,
You must have a real spine
You must have loads more of that good stuff
Despite the pouring rain

DO YOU MEAN
I SIT OUT HERE

Because I choose to?

You tell me, do you choose to?
Do you have a choice?
Can you pick up your ass
And walk through the open door?
There aren’t any tricks, there aren’t any traps
Look, I even put out a fresh welcome mat
(though it’s a bit soaked by now, nevermind..)

I tried to pick up my ass
But it wouldn’t move
My body, it wouldn’t follow my commands!

Ah, this is a terrible affliction,
I’ll ring for the house doctor
He’s seen this condition, I think, once or twice (and it’s never nice..)

Drip by drip
I’m fading away
I think there’s nothing left
Not after so much pain

You think this, you think that
That’s your main problem
Why not put the thoughts down
Here, pour them into my hat

I’ll do it, I’ll do it
Maybe some other day
Maybe some other way
Maybe, when I don’t feel the pain

Yes, I’m no house doctor
Not even a nurse
But this kind of excuses
You’re not the first!
I’ll do it not-today
I’ll do it tomorrow
Haven’t you heard
Tomorrow’s always tomorrow?

Share

Leave a comment

Subscribe now

I grew tired of growing tired
I became sick of being sick
Is it enough yet, the old habit to kick?
Do I need to live another hundred million years
Of death, disgust, and the shame?
Do I need another round of fame-the-cycle-and-then-pain?
Isn't it enough when it's enough?
Haven't you had that rush, like, enough?
Haven't you found the end of your rope?
Haven't you found, the sink's all out of soap?

I needed to find a way to stop thinking about not thinking
I needed to find an escape from looking for escape
I needed to continue being miserable so I wouldn't stop being that
I needed to find a way
To bury myself inside a hat (now I feel sorry for that fellow in the Hogwarts Grand Hall..)

I've learned how to live twenty-thousands lies (all at the same time)
I learned how to smile while looking like a dial
I've learned how to hide
All my deepest pain inside
And I've learned how to do it
Without even knowing it

See, I've learned how to be (someone else)
I've learned how to show (a great big happy face)
I've learned how to race (in the big old rat-race)
And I've learned that I DO love the chase (especially when it's my own tail)

Some old lies are hard to leave behind (about, all of them, give or take..)
Some old lives are hard to put aside
When you've lived once or two thousand different lives
The meaning of goodbye, well, it dies

Sixty-five thousand lives are lived and gone each second (I made this up.. but of course I did)
I used to think, I needed to live each one of them
Every moment of ecstacy, every moment of agony
Who could I be, how could I be free, be Me, if I didn't understand, 3 plus 3 plus 3 plus 3?
27 is the name of the name of the Game
I'm not sure why, give me a moment to remember..
Ah yes, 3 raised 3 raised 3
In case you're looking for Me
Stop running and stop hiding and stop ago-nising
Leave your pretences by the fence
Take your opinions and leave them behind
Pick up your dusty old self
Put your mind back on the dusty old shelf
Maybe, just maybe
In the words of the song
Give up (what you think is) yourself
To really find your Self
Give me one chance; if you really want to save a life
(They say one life is the whole of Mankind, I wonder why?)

Give up thinking you're free, if you really want to be ...
Give up thinking at all, if you'd like to really See...
A blind man can see farther that one wearing his own Fears as glasses...
When you're in shock, take stock, start to breathe, take a moment, you have enough...
You're made of tough-enough stuff...

No matter what the grinders and the rat-racers and the nay-sayers will say (and they say plenty...)
When you don't have time for You
You aint got time for Anything, or Anyone too...
When you take time for You (or for Me, for example, this story to read...)
You give the time back to You, and it multiplies..
You see, when you take care of yourself
You're taking care of your Self...
And well,
You'll take care of you... (just as you do)

I know, I'm sorry, these lines they make no sense
I just go round and round and round, like dancing round the fence
I could be quite the strip-pole dancer
Twirling round and never making a point
Do I even make a point? Do I even have a sharp end to make?
I don't think so, but what's the point?
Do you read this looking for hope, for pleasure, for a point?
Do you read this without hope, without pleasure, without freedom?
Can you ever lose what is truly yours?
Can you ever be what you are truly not?
Can you ever run far enough from Home that you forget how to get back?

I'm not sure, but that sounds like the most terrible agony of all...

Leave your old dogs to lie by the door.. (they'll be fine, trust me..)
Leave your old sorrows behind on the floor..

Take those dusty old rags off,
Have a chair, have a seat
Sink right into the deep (of the deep-blue-sea..)
And take a moment to rest
To re-lieve, re-lease (for eternity) your right to be Free (because you have it..)
You're not really doing anything, you know
Just playing around on some big old game-show
I know it's hard and I know it's a card
I know it's a pain and I know it's a shame
But if you're still reading this far
Does there exist a little word, a line,
something ringing a bell deep inside?

Find yourself, and you'll never go wrong
Listen to your heart, learn how to find its song
Sink into the dust, be "re borne" like Jason Bourne
Not to be born-again but to be again-a-friend
To yourself
To me
And you'll start to be free

Non-friends, do they exist?
I ask myself, about 30 times a day
Do I enjoy rolling in the hay? (of delusion, of pointlessness, of chasing my own cat's tail)
I guess I do, I guess I see a point
or I guess I'm just too tired to roll a joint
See, I've looked for something about a thousand million times or more
Never found it, but who's keeping score?

Is insanity really insanity if it's truly insane? (Yes, I think..)
But if it finally leads to non-insanity (Sanity, I think that's called)
Is it really so insane, in the end?

Storm-breakers
Wind-chasers
All around and all I see
are obstacles, thunderballs
pieces of Me (but they look rather askew,
nothing bright, nothing new,
more like pieces of ... shit)

I see all around, those terrible things
Black, and white, does it really matter how you colour that
What only a baby's mother is there to cover?
What stinks, stinks, don't matter the name
What hurts, hurts, don't matter the game
I've seen one or two different kinds of pain
I've been, myself, one or two kinds of the pouring rain

Throughout the mud, mess, and fuss
The hustle, the bustle
It's caused quite a ruckus
Little old Man's left town without a sound
He left me nothing more than his little white pad
Almost as clean as a pound
On it he's written, in a sketch hard to read
Something I can't make out,
something like
"DON'T FORGET TO BREATHE"
(but unintelligible, undecipherable,
nothing quite so clear as that.
Surely his message can't be easy,
surely the Scribes wouldn't make it Easy...)

I see
bodies in the air
bodies everywhere
a million casualties
a million lies
a million fireflies
(that have died)

I feel
freedom (to only feel pain)
freedom (to only cry in the rain)
freedom to only feel shame,
is it worth anything?
Is it worth the heart it's printed on?

I listen a while
to hear my song
But all I hear
is the steady
dong-dong-dong
The gong of time,
Time is calling
Think it's my cue,
I dust off my
dusty old ticket
Cricket... silence greets me in the mess hall
Crickets everywhere, they don't make a sound
Only my heart, it pounds
Someday somehow
I've hit the ground
(with a sickening sound)

The clock chimes
Someone's come to collect
Well lads, I say
To the empty room
To the empty mess hall
To nobody at all
I guess, this is my cue
(Suddenly I realise they weren't bodies after all)

I lived my life
Oh-so-ungraciously
I heard that was
How you get the ladies (that's also me)

I lived my days
Always the same
Repetition and Perdition
Superstition, repetition
Repetition, super-stitchin'
These formed basis of my Tradition

Elementary, Elementary
That little Know-it-all
Doesn't he know
Life's not so Easy
When I make it Hard

A yard's something (or so I am told)
A little something 'tween
The Big and the Bold
Bold and Beautiful
I never did have a clue

Matter of fact
Only thing's I ever 'ad
Was You

Freedom, I feel
the freedom to Be (Me)
The anti-freedom game’s run its course
It’s over and done
Bring back Mr. Morse
He’s had a long day
He’s had a long life
In another world
They called him Strife

I’ve seen him Young
I’ve seen him Old
Mr. Morse, he’s been doing it since he was One
He’s got the right ideas
He’s got the right notes
That’s why
Everyone thinks he’s a joke

Thank you so much for reading my work, it means the world to me.

I wanted to see in a sea of Me
I couldn't see but for the drain and the pain
and the rain and the same
and the dross and the rust
and the big ol' Albatross (sorry buddy)

I wanted only to breathe but I didn't know how
(Don't ask me how the body made it here till now)

I wanted to stand and be free
But I didn't know how to stand
(Don't ask me how I made it to Pakistan)

I wanted to breathe in a sea of You
I wanted to be and be and See
That only You could be the one to Be (Free)

erstatmen.com

all posts here

Just had coffee with the boss of the company
He's looking real sharp and he was looking at me

So many times I've tried to look tough, tried to look rough
He'd always take me in with a laugh

Disarming smile, I could never go the mile
How'd he do that, doesn't he know I'm part of the crew??

Looking like You, two can play that game
At the end of the day, One's all the same

I've learned how to be young, I've learned how to be sung
I've even learned how to forget my own face

I've run the race, a mile at a time
I was running in the wrong direction, so I had to take my time

Five battalions of myself I sent after me
All of them, wanted posters, they weren't taking it easy

Tried to break the ice with a silly little joke
Something about the mouse and the tiger, who holds the rope?

See, I've forgotten what I was saying
Forgotten where I was
Matter of what-it-all
I've forgotten who I was

view all posts here

I took the bundle, pulled the sort of straw
That'd make Oliver Twist swallow with a gulp
Guess I'm next in line, bin ich jetzt dran
Zwanzig Stunden später, not yet at the queue
Everyone loves you till they wanna Be You
I'm still not really sure if this is my Scene
But after all
Blue's just another kind of Green

The man at the counter's kinda' looking real tough
I guess he heard I'm into that stuff
The woman back' his head's looking real cute
Guess she thinks I'm
Checking out You
I've learned how to sit and I've learned how to do it well
Guess why that's all
I know how to Yell (in my mind...)

I've held onto secrets, too hard to see
I've thought (A million times a minute)
Everyone else is'a better than me
I've learned how to do it and I've gotten real good
If I would be a professor, it would be my profession
But I do profess, I've learned from the best
If Batman, Superman, Robin and You
Got together and formed half a Crew
Would you admit this is quite the Bunch
Something like, give me your Lunch

Five men an hour, that's enough to start
The man of the hour, here we go with a start
Sixty of them have been here before
Last one broke his record, now he's on the floor

I've come so long and I've long so far (away)
At the end of the day
The left end of the horseshoe
Gets back to You

all posts here

I've decided to see
A dream within a dream
A meme within a meme
And a scene within a scene

If it would be a game within a game
Would it look something like this?

Game 1: Video Game
└─ Game 2: Board Game within Video Game
└─ Game 3: Card Game within Board Game
└─ Game 4: Smartphone App within Card Game
└─ Game 5: Simple Game within Smartphone App

Can it be as simple as "Oliver Twist"?

Round the twist, just like that film - Inception, how'd that go?
A dream within a dream within a dream, but life's a dream, so add a few more layers..

How'd anyone interpret the ending, did it make anyone feel ascending?

What about using the feeling of guilt, anyone did that, is that part of our quilt?

Alice, Alice, throw your potions away
You've saved them (for too long), it's come the rainy day ..

Oh daddy, oh daddy
Why so mean to me
I've been alive only for the last 9-3
million years
Got a job, got a job, got another one
Why you so mean to me

I only wanted to see how to see
From the other side of the greenery
I didn't know just how miserable I would become
At the end of this day, I'm feeling like the day
(dead and done)

So many eyes I've had to see
So many bodies for my fan-ta-sy
I've had it all, lived it all, done it there and back
Still feeling so lost, I just can't quite track...
Since when does getting all you wanted make you feel like that?
Since when's being a fly on the wall being on the miserable track?
I thought it was more, and more, and more, that I wanted...
Then I found the more, and the more, and the more,
but not (quite, but almost..) the one that I wanted..

Perhaps I should look for what I needed, seeded
my delusions, expectations, repetitions, celebrations,
sedition, is not the way to nutrition
(but its one way to find itself out)

See, I've been around the world and been back
(or somewhere that looks like it)
Take this pic, take this pretty organised selfie
That way we can "tell nobody aint tryna' be thee"
But see, what if the one pretending to be me
Look a whole lotta lika' me??
What then, see
What's a fool gotta be
To make himself feel seen
By the eyes on back' his neck
Speaking of it, beck, beck, beck and call
That's what you are
Slave to the slave-master
Begging only to go faster
and faster
That's one way to get off the merry-go-ground
Go-to-ground
Speed it up till it falls apart
Or maybe
Just fall apart, let it speed up (without you)
See, you're gonna be free, that's inevitability to me
But I still don't like to see you suffer
And holding myself back from helping you (if I can)
Is a finest kind of cruelty

Cruelty, aint what it used to be
What if the worst one
The one you swore an oath
to hate the most
until the end of the dawn and the dawn of the end o time
What if the whole thing was just a little side-hustle
A little Kurt Russell,
A little side-tipped wager
Drop the pager
Aint nobody on the other end but he don't stop calling
Follow that call, lose your calling
But forget the calling and the bawling
Come on off your elephant seat
Get right to the potatoes and meat
And maybe, just maybe
You'll find yourself (somewhere)
Before you've gone completely insane

Insane, insane in the membrane
But which member do I brain today?
Which one was the one I did the other day?
I've too many members, the club's too big
As long as I'm trying to keep the count on my fingers
Singers, too many of those
I've had enough of the wine and the cheese
Time to close up shop
Forget the clocks
I've had enough
I want a sleep from my sleep
Before I dream the dream to end the dream
And find out
My life was nothing more than a machine (in a dream)
The pristine, the Listerine
two capfuls, a way to shut yourself up quick
Better than that to end up with the stick