His moods are like the weather in Iceland
Stormy and dark one moment
Bright and light the next
With a great wind of hope
Rushing past the coastline
Carrying joy aloft to the skies
While freezing those that dare
To walk naked in to it’s blast
But he is constant as the waves
Pounding the black sand beach
And will prevail over it all.
I had forgotten the taste
Of this deep sadness
Like metal on the tongue
Sharp and stinging
Crushing you into the earth
Making you wonder
If this is the next forty years
Or if it will pass
Like storms in spring
Giving way to warmth
And growth in the sun again;
Let it pass. Let it pass. Let it pass…
Fear, sadness, or anger
Are terrible choices
A shitty trinity
That pours out
Like sewage from a rotten heart
Would that we could
Lose them in the dark,
Drown them in weeping
Crush them in anger
But these three witches
Remain like shadows
Stretching long and away
Everything’s fine
In your world
And mine
I can tell
From 10,000 feet
As I fly over
On my way to the sun
It’s my skill to know
That everything’s fine
In your world and mine
It is said
You can live
With a knife in your heart
Just stay still
Don’t move
The blood won’t pump
And you’ll go cold
Whatever you do
Don’t pull it out…
Quieter and quieter
Breathing slows
Stay silent, don’t move
Wait in the dark
Under covers
Like self-mummification
The weight of the sense
That something is wrong
While the sun still shines
Crushes with confusion
Flipping switches
Shutting down.
It comes in cold
And flush with anger
A tired impatience
Exhausted with me
Filled with excuses
But empty of truth
It is a lonely time
It is a dark time
Seeking isolation
I cannot satisfy it,
An embodiment
Of defeat…
Still in the night
There’s a glimmer of hope
Like pyrite set by a candle
In the far-off corner
Of a dusty black room
And my eyes cannot help
But linger there.
Everything is ok
And i understand
This is how it is
Cold
Dark
An accepted wave
Rolling over the head
Promising you will be drowned
But somehow washed ashore
Again and again
Everything is ok
And i understand
depression is an infection
like lava filling a volcano
and i can see it glowing
within a person from a mile away
like Aetna in the night sky
threatening to explode
and bury them alive
pouring out from within
making Pompeii effigies
evidence of who they once were
preserved lifeless in empty ash
you drink and you drink
and you drink again
from this dollar a bottle life
for reasons you best not speak
then you crash to the bathroom
so that you can throw up
to make room for more,
for more and more and more
only to fall dizzy to the floor
retching up your black ink soul
as it all spills out before your eyes
like an abstract piece of your car-crash past
like a putrid Picasso of your imperfect present
poem after poem after poem
words that leave you feeling empty
hungry for a greasy breakfast
of a world you’re shocked to still be in
that you might have the fuel
for the next binge-induced purge
when truth burns your throat
and you can’t contain it any longer.
Harnessing Chaos 