Madness Pure

This poem was the first poem I ever shared in creative writing class. Inspired by Phil Collins song titled, "In the Air Tonight".

I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord…

I been waiting for this moment all my life…oh lord….oh lord….

Have you reminisced about s**t you been through; every decision, dream, and movement?

Wishing to reset? Obsessed with editing the blue print?

You don’t mean to, but you seem to- be prejudice to improvements?

Me? Ever since he went to heaven, I been back stepping, wishing I had the benefit of choosing-

Which dimension I will cruise in. I want the life I didn’t get…victimized by religions illusion.

Need DMT to see him, so I perfected inception; now my every dream is lucid.

Never gets better, swear, every November- I have regrets for- my temper being stupid.

Yes, Indeed, I’m a mess; with the evidence to prove it.

I accept it, so please… don’t press me with your two cents!

I mean, I respect your suggestions, but the truth is…I express depression for amusement.

It’s unquestionable! I’m embedded in neglecting the present! It’s a trip that I’m cool with.

Hennessy dependent, venting so fluid, soul invested in the music.

It is true; alcohol is inevitable, and better suited.

Especially, when the medicine, Doctors recommend won’t do s**t.

Temptations convoluted, “bi polar love,” is intense, and patients is not included.

I can feel it coming in the air! A clarity to lose s**t.

Paranoia makes my attitude switch.

Poetry is the only thing that is apparent, I’m in tuned with.

How embarrassing the shoe fits. F**k it, I’m not scared of the stereo typical bullshit..

Just dip and let me marinate in this mood…..s**t…I can feel it coming in the air tonight…

Have you ever been addicted to pain?

Ever written s**t you lived through, for those who haven’t been through the same?

Invite a room full of strangers into the labyrinth in your brain?

Inspired by Lewis Carroll; parallel dimension with no physics ingrained

A place where algorithm intuition holds contradictions in chains.

Recognize that is this; acknowledge the privileged glimpse you obtain.

Cause…Well, I admit, fear is rich; as you visualize them printing every intimate page.

Suspense has you trembling intense�"because finally your silence is explained.

Nervousness flourishes in every inch of your veins.

Butterflies resemble turbulence; comments add flickers to the flame.

Critics break down every sentence- beautiful precision has made.

Without guilt, convinced they distill the realness displayed.

Hate being center stage, so I spend every single one of these minutes timid; afraid...

Why? I write real life, this s**t isn’t a game!

I don’t write to be published; I have absolutely no interest in fame.

I don’t write fiction, I write for myself; it’s profound, yet so simple and plain.

I write to embrace the madness pure!

I would paralyze my potential if I didn’t. Do you get what I’m saying?

My brother was 19, with an infant...when tragedy switched up his lane.

Bullets flew into him; family witnessed innocence slain...

How I wish I live back then….back when? Back before I endured sad memories reign.

I refused to look- I didn’t want to imagine him soulless, cold as manikin in a grave.

I cried until there was no tears left I admit. There I said it, s**t, I will never be ashamed.

My mother screaming “not my baby” left me crippled, insane,

Hands scarring the grass, trying to dig him up, so it doesn’t end in this way.

That’s the optimism given; when you so resistant of change...can you feel it coming?

I can feel it coming in the air tonight…oh lord…

Have you ever had a memory so precious, you wish you could hold it?

Images diminish while misery you envisioned unfolded?

Pain, seems like a hypnotist vividly molded.

Wrong impressions are committed to convincing your corroded.

I give a f**k about empathy. So quit pretending you know him.

Apologies go unforgiven; while your artificial sympathy’s noted.

It’s a mystery! How my explicit history is devoted…

To being a slave to my persona, how I want to be with him…

Seems all my life I been living for this moment.

Arms wide open? Well, now they’re fitted up and folded.

You don’t have to pretend you been where I been!

My agony won’t cease to exist if you console it. I can feel it coming in the air tonight;

So looking back at my life, I ask “What powerful being controlled it?”

Was it God? Is he responsible for the countless tears that viciously unloaded?

Has Satan been guiding my existence? Waiting, for the perfect minute to finish…

The s**t he provoked when…he realized the gifts I was born with. Will never surface!

They will only vanish like the smoke did. I am a dad and I feel bad for both kids.

I feel bad for the one that almost took a breath;

But the love that was couldn’t forget dumb s**t and focus.

Hopeless, staring at the world through my rearview can you notice?

Can you feel me? Have you ever persevered from your lowest?

I don’t trust anyone! Loneliness is ferocious.

Fall in love; just to suffer-cate in quicksand; concrete tears, when I wrote this.

I wish I could sing; I would force you to feel me.

I’m still wondering where the person who means most is.

I been waiting for this s**t, anticipating the day;

I squeeze my sons in my arms and start drifting away…..I can feel it coming!

Reviews

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Wow Rico this is some sublime writing! I love the energy and intensity and that your words splay out with such conviction! I'm kinda floored and regret not visiting your works sooner. Crazy good flow! Starz x