Jagged Thoughts #69: The Madness and the Microphone


 

Listen to your head
What does it say
Do you believe in the Mystics?
How long are you going to hold on to the powers that be
That control your destiny?

What is new?
What is new to say?
My mind is like a sieve
now I know what that means.
Another stranger walking down the street.
Frown or smile we can’t tell.
Your knees ache from praying.
When will God lift its spell?

When will the bells go off
that you derailed?
Set for sail another journey.
Light the firecracker.
Watch it burn me.
Smoke inside and free your mind
until the ghosts come back
And haunts you,
or your reading voice is not the one you want,
Or the world is a cage and your a lock.
And inside the melodrama
Is babble talk
back and forth
like a tennis match.
Have a drink and collapse.
Let me numb
my mind like novacaine.
This Week is too much for me
I’m going back to bed.
And my membrane sets sail again
for two distinct shores.
And well I wish you well as time can tell
My ship has gone off course
and lost in a sea
that if I sink I sleep
or if I drown I breathe,
or if I light up the leaves
something stops the synapse fire.
And when I walk in slow motion
you are in fast forward.
And I slow down my life
And you speed up yours.
You got a baby.
You got a family.
You know who you are.
You have a family.
You know your family tree.
You know where your blood has been.
You know the truth.
You are no victim.
You don’t hold on to your illness like a crutch.
You are in love.
you are not dumb.
You are not high strung.
You are not paranoid.
You are not the sticks or the drum.
You are employed.
You are wearing the thickest skin.
You have traveled the world and back again.
You have a baby.
your second is coming.
You decided along time ago,
To stop
Running.
You have miracles in you membrane.
You have magic in your touch.
You have a love that loves you so much
that you don’t have to tug.
You never had to wear a helmet.
You don’t have the damage.
You never have to cower.
You have the power.
You have the mind
that doesn’t struggle hour after hour.
You have the wine and the grapes to drink it.
You never have to worry
if they can hear what your thinking.
You are a man.
You are solid and strong.
You have a fan base.
You have a theme song.
You are a super hero.
You aren’t a villain.
You aren’t afraid of mental illness.
You look and know God
is in you knuckles when you beat down the devil.
You are a singer and an actor.
You are on the level.
You are a star,
sunshine in your Palm.
You convinced yourself along time ago
that you belong.
And look now you do.
You have everything you ever wanted.
Man, I wish I was you.

But I have the struggle that makes me unique,
Makes me an oddball.
Makes me a freak.
Makes me different.
A different strain.
I have the madness and
the microphone
To speak my piece.
To let you in on my pain.
I have the will and I can beat this.
I am the strongest person
who has ever dealt with this.
I am the machine turning the gears
You have fears?
I am all ears.
I listen.
I might not comprehend.
I love you.
We will always be friends.
I love all of them.
And I can’t pretend I don’t.
My mind goes everywhere that most places won’t.
I don’t want to be my struggle.
But goddammit it has made me strong.
to deal with the bullshit you could never take on.
I am the strongest thinker.
My mind profound.
I have an Ativan memory.
I have to write it all down.

But when I do it rhymes and sounds good.
That’s one thing I have above all others.
I am a poet
in love with the struggle.

 

Jason Wright is the founder and Editor of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.

 

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