Insanity Revealed

[RaiStarr]

I've read such interesting poetry on this Board that I decided to share some of mine. I've got two collections that I'm building (very slowly) and hoping to get published one day in the not so near future. Anyway here goes...

Rai





The Search



Harsh this reality

always seeking for a recess

from our daily gravity

that keeps our souls from soaring.

Childhood monsters wear grown up faces.

Smile at you

while stealilng your life force.

The search continues for a place of peace.

[RaiStarr]

Next up:



Ghost



I'm as solid as everyone else

but you walk right through me.

You see right through me.

You could touch me,

if you tried.

But you won't try because I'm not real to you.

I exist in a void, though I am aware of everything.

I exist, and I wait for someone to see me,

not through me.

Can you see me?

[RaiStarr]

Extraction



Fluorescent lights send silent sound waves to pound my head and vibrate my teeth. Soul sucking monsters pull you into the page turning hell of unwanted knowledge and no one wants your long distance service. Desks, tiny and unforgiving, press into soft spots of the human host. Eyes watch, waiting for you to falter, unaware that you splattered years before. The best age to be exists before and after linear and chronological have any bearing; where there is no self to be esteemed or not; where there are no human soft spots to be vulnerable; where boards black or white, are swept clean before new knowledge is applied. Where no knowledge is applied because all is known. Phantom rejection forms hold hostage my pen. The Goddess exists and then doesn't and then back again within 60 ticks of the skinny hand. Time is no one's friend. Inertia and gravity team up to kill physically and spiritually. The worst monsters don't exist outside of the cranial cavity but they deliver death all the same. People deliver death too. If you have the right initials after your name they will pay you to kill others in all your educated ignorance. I don't have the initials but I could kill too; splash the room with bleach to make it glow. But the enemies that I have won't bleed, don't bleed except for the self which could be esteemed but most often is not. God exists in this tick, offering forgiveness and peace and Birkenstocks and harps and clouds that turn black and bleed water on the soulless and the sightless and the thoughtless held below on the rocks by the atmosphere where God does not exist.

[onyxsundrops]

Short, yet good! Thanks for deciding to share with the board.



Yvonne

[Imperfectly Me]

I've told you before, and I'll tell you again. Your work is incredible Rai. I especially love Ghost. You're amazing. I hope we get to see more.

Who were you then? And who are you now? That you think you can figure it all out, the mathematics of regret. It takes two beers to remember now, and five more to forget. That I love you so..what. Yeah I love you so..what.

[RaiStarr]

Thanks for the kind words. The third one, Extraction is my fav of the bunch. I will put more up soon.



Rai

[SJ]

Great poems

[RaiStarr]

Here's another...



Visibility (or lack there of)



Life. Fragmented. Each new location

makes real the hole left by the old.

Chameleon status, though always visible

Hidden in plain sight the scars of life.

Puncture wounds from incorporeal weapons

bruises from the force.

Acceptance granted with conditions

that don't fit the being.

Lingering for that true connection.

[SJ]

Like that poem,great writing

[tara24alh]

Very nice work I hope you have more coming cause I really enjoyed what I've read so far!



~Tara~

[RaiStarr]

Thanks to all of you who have been checking out my stuff. I hope I can keep it coming. Here's the next one. It started off as a conversation I was having with myself in my journal...



And Still, I Write



I love it so but stringing it together into something someone else may want to read…



I fall down. Acid rises and falls, crashing against the twitching pink walls.

A hollowness steals through me and I want to jump up and run or hide behind the insanity or the laundry or the dishes.

But mostly the insanity; laundry gets done and provides space in the doing. Dishes break against the jackhammer of my heart. Insanity stays; even with prescribed cocktails of multicolored tablets, it stays. Between the snoring and the drooling and the prison of hypnotic tile patterns, it’s there.

I can’t escape it like I can’t escape the need to pick up a pen.

And the spiral continues out of control. Colors splattering on white walls; that’s not art. It was an accident, but I will take your money.

When the cap comes off will there be anything left? Will it have dried up from decades of neglect? Or will the container burst first? One glorious output and the mechanism destroyed. No chance for a three-peat or even a repeat as spongy brain matter and bits of bone dance among the words providing grisly accents to brilliance never before seen. Never to be seen again.

I struggle to get the top off before it blows. The cork crumbles in my hand, the blockage is still there; explosion impending.

So I pick up the pen and I write. The line of the ballpoint the only relief from the pressure. Bile and acid come together to make the perfect storm. Blood drips from my lips. My teeth hold my tongue captive as I resist the urge to run to the hamper. There is a warm rush from my ears, pulsing in time with my heart. In the distance I hear dishes breaking.

But I write on.

Flashes of genius seep through my BIC but they live in the ghetto of Morning Pages. They will fester and die with their brothers. The pen moves on haltingly scratching revealing tragic handwriting that tells all the secrets and makes more with each stroke.

He said you must work through the pain and I believed him. Now I stand in the midst of the Inferno and there is no way out. No revelation. No insight. Just fire ants moving in waves up my legs and my only weapon is the pen. It hemorrhages ink and turns the ants black but they bite too; insidious pinches. My skin ripples beneath their advance.

They won’t reach my head. It would be over then. The only thing that will end this pain is time – or a bullet. I am the master of neither.

I am the master of nothing but this pen.

So I push it across paper splattered with sweat and blood.

And the laundry is done.

And the dishes are finished.

And the insanity peeks through the flames and laughs.

And still, I write.

[Imperfectly Me]

You really do take my breath away Rai. I hope the muse continues to be kind to you because the world needs writing the caliber of yours.









Aimee

Who were you then? And who are you now? That you think you can figure it all out, the mathematics of regret. It takes two beers to remember now, and five more to forget. That I love you so..what. Yeah I love you so..what.

[RaiStarr]

Aimee I think you may be a little biased... but thank you anyway for reading and dealing with my insanity as it continues to reveal itself.





Rai

[SJ]

Like your different styles of writing

[Imperfectly Me]

Me, biased? Nah..you know I'd be as quick as the next to tell you if it sucked. Which it doesn't, any of it.

u

See you tomorrow!

Who were you then? And who are you now? That you think you can figure it all out, the mathematics of regret. It takes two beers to remember now, and five more to forget. That I love you so..what. Yeah I love you so..what.

[RaiStarr]

This is just some words that the great giver of words threw into my head so hard that it woke me from a dead sleep. After coming back to them and making sense of my scrambled writing,I decided that even though it wasn't a poem there was still something poetic about it. So here it is...



Secrets



Her fingers press into my hair as her deepest secrets spill upon my lips in waves.

In the following silence, I kiss her and the whispers that had filled my mouth now remind her of who she is.

We smile in shared recognition and for a moment, there is peace.

[intricate mirage]

Agreed. Definitely something poetic about it. Beautifully written

Cassie





Ask me if I loved you yesterday. I'll say 'Yes'

Ask me if I love you today. I'll say 'Yes'

Ask me if I'll love you tomorrow. I'll say 'Always'

[SJ]

Short but sweet,great writing

[Imperfectly Me]

beautiful, angel. You know..I'm pretty sure you took Kim's place as my favorite writer with "And still, I write."

Just thought I'd tell you that.





yours,

Me

Who were you then? And who are you now? That you think you can figure it all out, the mathematics of regret. It takes two beers to remember now, and five more to forget. That I love you so..what. Yeah I love you so..what.

[RaiStarr]

Woo Hoo! I'm the favorite poet!



Thanks to you all for the kind words.



Rai

[LiquiDreams618]

Rai ~



I just stumbled upon your writings earlier today. They are really good and I'm very impressed. I really enjoy them all. Hope all is well for you.



MJ

[RaiStarr]

Hey thanks for reading. All is going the way the Universe would have it go. (How's that for vague ) I hope things are going well with you too. I'm in school and singing now! Yay!



Rai

[RaiStarr]

An interesting(I think so at least) interlude from my journal.

Rai



It is one month away from the official start of winter and the sun is shining and warm. It sends its invitation through my window but I don't listen. I stay inside and revel in my secret illicit affair - with words. They caress through my brain, stopping here and there, probing, seeking, and finding spots I never knew existed and I cry out from the painful pleasure of their torment. They flow hot and wet through my body, pulsing out with each heart beat and the blood drips through each new opening and I love - as the stains around me grow. And the sun says "I will be gone soon. You will miss me when I go. Let me save you." I look around the small room, my essense splashed violently about and my muscle tense as another word bursts forth. You will not save me sun, or I would have been saved long ago. I recreate myself here and now with this grouping of symbols. The stains will fade and the flesh will rot but the words will last forever.

[tkheaven]

Rai, absolutely amazing. I enjoyed reading Extraction. You have some great writing here. I'm looking forward to your next posting.

Tk's new and improved "GrrArgg"...Crazy? Crazy?? I do not talk to myself...it's called thinking aloud...

---

Tara ate her, devoured her from beneath. -The Edge of Silence giving new meaning to season seven's catch phrase.

Dreams are...illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you. -Marsha Norman

[RaiStarr]

TK Thanks for checking out my words. Extraction is my favorite too. It was kind of a stream of consciousness thing. It worked out that time and I have been too nervous to try it again. I suspect I will have a lot more stuff here after January because my English class next semester is Poetry Writing! Hopefully I'll get something out before then though! *crosses fingers*



Rai

Forgive me now! Tomorrow I may no longer feel guilty...

[SJ]

Interesting and different,great writing

[RaiStarr]

Thanks!

Forgive me now! Tomorrow I may no longer feel guilty...

[RaiStarr]

My latest bit of oddity.



Tick, tick, tick it doesn't stop.

Ropes invisible but real press

And hold you to

Promises that you never made;

Promises that you can't keep.

Endings imminent and no matter what you

Do, you can't stop the clock.

Forgive me now! Tomorrow I may no longer feel guilty...

[SJ]

Like that poem,clever

[onyxsundrops]

Nice poem.



Onyx