A Place to Share
|
|
A Place to Share |
 
|
Labeled Disabled
I have a young mind
In an old body
(my mind was actually injured still not totally cured)
Before I become too institutionalized I need indeed
A perception of reality, given
Material sanity is concrete reality
They are patsy whips in society
Yet I tire of labeling them negatively
They don t wait for me anymore, at least eagerly
My best friends on the shore of normality
I acknowledge the ledge of reality
But encourage the wedge of insanity
In a place where past effort is all but ignored
And demands, like hour glass sands freely collect
Every trace that expands does an about-face demand
No time to direct in the climb imperfect
Stuck like a hockey puck in Rodney Dangerfield-out of luck
The introspective directive is the corrective collective
Still sarcastic about my pride-so elastic
So tired of the world s condescension sarcastic
Usually like rehearsed and cursed and still fantastic
Reversed like the snapped back-elastic
Incorrigibly and horribly as I tolerate the concentrate
So I exasperate each deviate as I checkmate on every
bathyscaph plate
Thrown into a metaphoric zoo where cruel terms smell like
baked worms
And the deviates leave what complicates perceive like a
detrimental orchestration
The solitary tune of the section of bassoon
And the brute of the flute in concentrated mass
Leaves like the sound of a solitary loon
And echoes the prose of wasted effort it goes
No time for the sublime
Still prime-without crime