Saturday, August 9, 2008

Lunatic lunch

Do you smell it?

Feel it?

It covers me like mud

I can’t absorb it

Yet I can’t get clean

How do I get my soul clean in such a mess?



They never understand.

They can’t

They aren’t wired that way.

I have been damaged in many falls.

So I rewired myself bit by bit, as I could.

Now I only make sense to me and, maybe an open heart.

Truly open,

No hiding

No justifying

Open like a book for all who care to read.



Mud is bitter and will taint me

It taints all it touches.

Even if it is only to pick it up in order to fling it

Some always stays with you under your nails

Where you can’t see, but you are still filthy.



Never stare at yourself in a mirror to close for to long.

The flaws and filth will burn out your mind.



Do I sound like a lunatic, or a prophet?

Confucius or confusion

Everything new sounds crazy…….

Until.... it works… then it is brilliant

Insanity and brilliances are only separated by success

One has it the other doesn’t

I’m tired of being crazy; it’s somebody else’s turn.

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