Gurgling loathe ripples from the core
Images push forth of standing on the shore
But strength surges without control
This Christmas; there may be coal
Electrical pulses smash in the ear
Disregard for what’s ‘right’ and what’s ‘wrong’
'Cos numerous faults have been held in too long
Rapid movement feels no regret
Of course they deserve what they are going to get
The mind’s eye views faults that are grim
Who is the real victim?
Rational thoughts have completely faded
The temperament is anything but jaded
In 12 minute’s time; the splatter becomes a smudge
The consideration emerges; you might have misjudged
As the clock ticks on, there’s not a trace of irate
How could there have ever been such hate?
On and on the clock clicks
As future episodes build on words, stones, and sticks
Can we shift our focus
Away from the hocus-pocus
That consumes our every day life?
See, there’s this thing on my mind
Suspended in time
"Stop thinking your way to the future"
It’s a paradoxical thought
Which many times I have fought
But this notion is a plague
And it only increases with age.
Yes, live in the now!
Only…I don’t know how
It’s a jigsaw I hope I can conquer
And in the meantime, I’ll think and I’ll ponder
About the state of mind that I must un-wonder.
In a lack of passion
One must ration
Their energies towards their hobbies
If we could do it again
We could always pretend
That on love, we didn’t depend
Yet in the back of my head
I know in the end
Just love does not make one happy
Optimism is internal
But my mind’s an inferno
Can happiness live in me?
Instead we will worry
Life flees in a hurry
And we will be left with no purpose.
But my mind still argues back and forth
Surely these notions have no worth
Why be sad when you can be happy?
Still, I can’t shake this underlying feeling
That life has no meaning
And over our emotions, we have no control
I need a theme
I need inspiration
Yet my frame of mind is not conductive to this business
Instead, I sulk all day; trapped in my head
Will there ever be an escape from this dread?
24/7; it courses through my veins
Intermixed with periods that are sane
This is when I feel like my true self
And occurs when anxiety fatigue brings me to health
Calm penetrates like a fresh breath of air
Contentment rejuvenates my inner lair
Yet as suddenly as a breeze
My optimism flees
And I’m tossed into confusion once again
Has my happiness really ever been?
I wish I could explain
The nature of my inner pain
But somehow my words always fail me
There must be a simple solution
But with all this biased confusion
I am blind to what others may see
Wake up like you mean it
Shed those tears before you feel it
Anticipate the mess, the ugly—-greet it
Trust the mind and how you feed it
Just wipe away the negative feelings
"How could happiness be a choice?
Can you control the sob in your voice?”
It doesn’t matter the cause
Boost your mood with a bit of self-applause
Create the mindset for which you’ve been reaching
Treat yourself and others with that mind you’re breaching
Embrace the cliche
Admit your faults with a little touche
Do this, and you’ll never have dismay
Instead your life can be filled with “hooray!”
It’s one of those days
Where all you do is contemplate
Why we’re here and what is our fate
Are they really your soul mate?
Crate; a carton full of eggs
They crack and sizzle as the dog begs
But he doesn’t know what’s playing in your head
An array of orchestrated frets
Dismay about recent events
Which you struggle to comprehend.
But in the end; a conclusion starts to show its face
It emerges at a sluggish pace.
Finally, you clear the haze
You realize that it’s just a phase
'Cos no matter how hard you wonder
Your heart will still feel the thunder
And shortly you realize
That all this really is, is life
It curses the young and anxious
It means fame for the artists and courageous
It remains mysterious to the hopeful and religious
Yet one truth remains..
To all, this curse is ubiquitous
'Bing, Bing, Bock'!
While the clock goes ‘tick tock’
Tired ears ignore
As the monotonous machines cantor
Personified by sickness
Signifying that death is ubiquitous
Black boiled leather fierce with determination
The frame it contains laced with apprehension
Timid ears prick in sync with heavy words
But those fears can be sent away with the birds
A life; anything but mundane
As grimacing and tempting as lemon meringue
This: the true individual
Encompassing all aspects apparent and residual