240423A
-----------

The type of morning
within the classification system
as to the types of mornings
and awaken to a feeling
so extremely sad
that you only want to cry
not having any idea why.

It has failed to conform
to any actual clinical criteria
so you keep it to yourself
among all the other secrets
that are most of what passes
as definitive of your existence
between exclamatory assertions.

Particularly the sort that defy you
and prevent going back to sleep
where there was something left
of what seemed comfortable
and almost feeling natural
compared to so very out of place
and socially awkward.

Interspersing behaviour patterns
that try not to look too suspicious
in the prevailing climate
of increasing oppression
that passes as the slash pendulums
that come with political change
sliding across your little pit.

You awakened from a dream
that was as alright as any
into a world that never is
but that is only a part of it
because it usually happens
as to the reality and meaning
of any sort of awakening.

You would rather go on sleeping
instead of conforming
in those austere and severe ways
that make some popular
as dilettante bits of smirch
rather than being erased completely
after being made a spectacle.

The only crowds you ever know
are the usual sort of crowds
that show up to anticipate the fall
of a tightrope walker
starved by the length of the wire
and continually terrorized
by the shortness of life.

Then again it is not any of that
buttery mass from the churning
labelled as over think
getting in the way of muscled
build ups of mass attractions
from which you are the wayward
secretly broken thing.

Something has happened
and you do not know what it is
but you might never know
what it was or might really be
because it is simply that feeling
sometimes comes with awakening
to something far less than a dream.

You wish you really could
live your very own dream
the way those others live theirs
but it is never that simple or clear
as to what will come to you
when you go your own way
because you are not of that crowd.

------------------------------------------

240423B
-----------

Life is mostly the never found
of the reasonably thought of
in the spaces that are in between
what is missing between spaces
where we fill something in
to take the place of any longings
in chanced and make do ways.

Habitually referring to emptiness
as being something more full
and denying anything being empty
in our having become victims
to that ongoing war on discontent
where everyone is to play a part
in another perpetual war effort.

Maybe I do dream of you
and maybe you do dream of me
in that place of never meet
being dreams of the never know
outside the difficult boundaries
separating one reality from the others
in the constant of mix ups.

It is a fact I never met anyone
that I ever imagined actually meeting
in any of those situations
that I would have liked to meet in
and all my attempts were cancelled
as to finding or creating the scenery
for any such act on any such stage.

How the theatre of the absurd begins
in too many usual and common ways
doing what makes no real sense
as if it has a much larger significance
and trying to convince ourselves
that the routine gestures are important
to having some sort of future.

Too late when we finally discover
that it is never really that way
and that perhaps we really were
under the spell of an evil magician
in the course of all those attempts
to defeat an unbeatable futility
at games where no one ever wins.

Eventually to make the discovery
as to that other ugly truth
that there is no actual future
unless one is willing to believe
and to live the lie of a future
some evil genius constructed
for one to slide straight into.

Even the scoreboards are all lies
designed to keep you playing
because it uses up time and energy
for which there is no other use
and if you think you are winning
it is never any sort of real prize
that actually lured you to try for it.

The experience that you get
is never the experience that you want
no matter which way you turn it
something revises the plot
and the sequence gets cut
leaving you with what was in mind
as limited as outtakes.

You become discarded splices
dropped to the cutting room floor
turned into shambles of moments
that could never be played out
because you were blocked access
to that part of the reality matrix
where other fictions actually live.

They are living on that plot line
that you auditioned for
but you never got the part
and your demo reel never chanced
to be able to include any bits
demonstrating what is wanted
but you know it once was.

--------------------------------

240423C
-----------

The idea of going somewhere
has its illusory continued appeal
despite a long litany of experience
that accurately predicts the same
degree of perpetual disappointments.

The problems of time and space
being magnified so very large
while the gods play dice games
that make for infinite combinations
excepting any that are really wanted.

It does not matter what you want
because the tease is always the same
as to the highs and the lows of it all
in the gone under and over ways
that it always tends to work out.

You can work at it forever and more
to getting nowhere at all
because working at it is never enough
and you are always left to needing
whatever you do not have.

Something is always missing
and even if you know what it is
it does not matter a tiny tinker's damn
in the habitual trends of over think
between the really know and the not.

We go that way perhaps until gone
and no one can ever really win
at any of the numbers games
but some make believe and pretend
to make it seem alright in the end.

The statistics of experience convince us
that we do not really count as anything
to anyone we might have wanted
to count us in and in any such ways
that we would have appreciated.

We will always end up at something
quite different and sometimes it is
actually a passably good time
in the ways that time passes in places
that we try to make more comfortable.

Then realizing there is no real chance
that we will ever be experienced
as an old song becomes a private lament
about the absurd things we could do
compared to the things we could not do.

It has nothing whatever to do with trying
is the other rule that defies our acceptance
but you can try all that you like
to get to the same sort of nowhere
and nothing really to do with it.

--------------------------------------

240423D
-----------

We sometimes linger in that memory
of how it was to climb up
only to slide down again
fearing where feet thud against earth.

And sometimes we begin to wonder
about the impossible way up
but wanting to get to somewhere
to slide down into the comfortable.

As if someone desirable might be there
down at the bottom of the slide
who might actually catch us
rather than hard cold rutted out earth.

The feeling that there is no one up there
on that cruel lonely climb up that tower
toward that sky that is the limit
and always feeling the same pull down.

As if there is somewhere to go
when you actually get there
where there is that someone
you always wanted to know.

When you get there you find
they only want to play with you
but it is never your game
that they are willing to play.

You had to be there much sooner
and had to stay there much longer
but that is never the case
as that also costs far too much.

So you scramble to the top again
and then you slide down
until it becomes a routine thing
and all the thrill is gone.

------------------------------

280423A
-----------

Searching for those clues
for solving an ultimate mystery
without knowing anything
as to what the mystery really is.

Or why it is is worth solving
but you have to do something
and you are given that to do
even if nothing else.

So you are given to pretending
it is that one deep mystery
that you always wanted to solve
even if it is not anything really.

You can go on like that
and sometimes people believe you
paying their respects
to the poorest of choices.

They are as quick to ignore
what you thought any better of
and they never really want you
where you wanted to be wanted.

They never really want you
how you wanted to be wanted
and they want some other thing
that they imagine you could be.

You feel you need someone
but you feel weary of them all
playing you for the fool
that you have to pretend to be.

You do not know what to let go
when there is nothing else
to really hold on to
and time is always running out.