Posts Tagged ‘Insanity’

To most who look,
Poetry looks a glorious act,
A noble act,
But it’s a lie,
It is butchery,

I hack and cleave,
Words into prime cuts,
Punctuation into mince,
It is a foul process,
The table glistens with grease and crimson,

Exsanguinate the prose,
And remove narrative viscera,
Carve a strip of exposition there,
And rend from it superfluous fat,
My pen thirsts for more,

Boiling bones of expression,
Reducing them to grist for future ventures,
Everything is red,
The grisly work is done,
For the punters to love and hate,

Caked in blood and gore,
Of projects discarded,
I am no writer,
No poet,
I am a butcher.

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Feeling a touch nonsensical today,
Feeling a dash ridiculous,
My mind is scarlet jelly,
These thoughts are hundreds and thousands,

Once lost which way does a page turn?

Can a cookie become a chef?

Does winter prevail in many competitions?

Can a merchant learn to sale a ship?

Does my coffee need some medicine?

Can a mansion ever be a lady?

Random thoughts dart about,
I know I’m not making any sense,
But did I ever?

Nonsense

A crossroads in my life,
I remember it well,

Mundanity one way,
A tiresome future,
A pointless existence,
Eccentricity over yonder,
The way of the top hat,
The path of the face-paint,

I chose the only path I could,

Now I jaunt along it,
A cane in one gloved hand,
And a pen in the other,
A jester marotte in my pocket,
My top hat standing tall,
A capricious design upon my face,

Where my grin goes,
Kaleidoscopic and macabre images follow me,
There can be no end to the madness,
This procession of the asylum continues.

MFM Team

As I stare blankly at the page,
Me and my mind make a pact,
A pact with this book of nightmares,
This monster I put my pen to,
A sanctum for every horror that crosses my minds eye,
Or perhaps an asylum?

This is my unholy gift to you,
A window into my mind,
Full of horrors and abominations as it is,
I must continue to write regardless,
I must keep creating these literary monsters,
The book demands it.

I begin to write,
And the nightmares come out to play,
Letters and words creep from recesses,
Punctuation slivers hither-and-thither,
Sentences of madness begin to form,
I’ve released a monster.

Or am I creating it?

BON

They are coming,
Darkness is looming,
Peril is converging,
Fear is rising,
Despair is flourishing,
Madness is burgeoning,
They are coming.

They are here,
Defenses are crumbling,
Armies are routing,
Cities are smouldering,
Nooses are swinging,
Corpses are rotting,
They are here.

They have won,
Civilization is lost,
Hope is deceased,
Maws are chomping,
Tentacles are writhing,
Oculi are glaring,
They have won.

The Old Gods are attendant.

OldGod

Ladies and Gentlemen,
Brothers and Sisters,
Good priests and bad priests of all orders,
Allies,
Rivals,
Lovers,
I beseech you,
Hear my words!

Lords and Duchess’,
Madmen and Madwomen of all conditions,
Scum,
Thieves,
Murderers,
Churls and Misfits,
Hear me now!

The world is an asylum,
Our asylum,
We are the inmates,
We are the individuals,
We are the freaks,
We are the aberrations,
We are the monsters,
We are the inmates.

Join me in a celebration,
Rejoice in your own individuality,
Embrace your eccentricity,
Love your peculiarity,
Dance in the rain,
Paint with your fingers,
Laugh madly in public,
Do as you please.

We are the inmates,
Singular and deranged,
Odd and frivolous,
We are ourselves,
We are the twisted family,
Embrace the asylum,
And join us.

Hymn

At first there was Love,
But then Man found his enemy,
Madness.
And Madness struck Love down,
And from that, came Rage burning.

Rage and Man made a pact and became one,
To war upon Madness,
And way they did,
But Man and Madness saw their similarities,
And unmasked their true enemy,
Obsession.

If one is truly insane,
Does one feel nothing at all,
Or everything all at once?
You feel concoctions, rather than emotions.
Chemical reactions.

A vial full of joy,
A belly full of laughter,
A dash of envy,
A splash of rage,
A sprinkling of guilt,
Seasoned with a touch of fear,
And topped off with some loneliness.

Who knows what the reaction could be.
Who knows what the catalyst is.
A broken heart,
A betrayal,
A longing,
An enemy.
To be insane is to be both a loose cannon and a straight arrow.

If one is truly insane,
Isn’t one the most human of us all?
Or is one the least feeling of us all?
Could the most insane also be the most sane?
What is sanity?
What is normality?
What is insanity?

madclown