Karma, My Bipolar Friend

Run, run, you donkey

Tumbleweeds and failing bats

You missed out

The flails and fisticuffs are all gone

Just come downstairs and have some coffee

I would've warned them all

But Jimmy, here, wanted a steak out

So, plainly, I led him though the catacombs

I felt my pistol but I forgot to feed my cat

Jokers, please, we don't want any stoners

Bring down the curtain 

And wipe those windows clean

This is full factual

I want this meat lean

I'm here for a pleasant convo

Though I may leave you astray

These words so hidden, so subjective

If only you'd just listen...

Listen closely to the sound of my voice

Don't interpet, just understand

As the wavelengths strike your ears in strands

Vibrations carrying overtures of wisdom

Awareness and existence

Please just let me finish painting this flagpole

It isn't the ant hill's time to beg for their morrow

I will deny their fruitless encantations

Just quench me with a Coke or a 7-Up

Hurry! These teeth are gritty

Harshly grinding

Mario, Luigi, and Peach

All between the gears

Stuck in time and space and agony

The shredding white noise overtaking

How much suffering must ensue?

Before these embarassing black circles

No longer resonate

Hateful tastes for habitual wastes

Of time, the one that is mine

How much, I beg of you?!

How deep does this black hole go?

How high will it throw me when I find my presence?

My inner patience

This essence of frugality and safe lasting

Certainly an atypical caricature of what could be

It doesn't seem too far away

And I know, that I'll know

That all this was for me, by me

Forever remembered as part of this lunacy

Once reprimanded on the basis of recklessness

Now harboured as a means to contentment

For as one may desire a greater emotion,

The fallback is twice it's intention

Sorrowful it may seem, 

But Karma always knows when to begin again

Karma, my bipolar friend

Can't you just find your balance?

Ahh, not the question, I see

For you are the balance, in all its extremities

The Golden Mean of the silver stream

I can feel it in every action

Every taste, every location

You are the true Illuminati

Karma, my bipolar friend,

I wish you had a cell phone

The plants and the wind don't know me well enough

And the animals seem too stubborn

To evoke such prophetic epithets

In a manner comprehensible in the English language

Reviews

[BiroPen]

great write