Sunday, February 13, 2011

~Death Rambles to Hell

Itt's sad again to run into my melancholy, unexpected distress now
 change, now, some added survival skills
slow is for me, ranged out comfortably, ticks are lost on others
change of atmosphere's Kelvin is never missed to my extremities
hands and feet, numb as hell
always noticed, always in mood to engage legendary futterwacken
 a lot is rarely noticed except by function, and some moods don't care
I got em spread out more consciously now, their essence comes
along a measure of energy singular or combined, mess kept separate
for messy minds in past and history tonight, the way back, unkind
SCAT FACT
Just feeling clear enough to quickly harmonize a frequency polyphonic
 energy vibrating at a certain rate, pace, or dynamic range is aligned
Right now I am on the tail of a big flop, in full polarity reversal
and nothing is very pretty about such a sight, felt invisible butt ugly
known only by new felt energy, heard by inner ear, with an inner eye.
ENERGY in a MOOD
But tonights mood strangely suggests I lost relational respect
after earlier today dramatically stating how much I need her
I felt so much pain over losing Renee I threaten suicide to her
and there's nothing odder one finds than desperate pretense
you know your going to face whatever, if your ruse misfires
but nothing could be expected to be greater for the magnitude
expressed in an actor's talent to be sincere despite negatives.
There's no honor gained by forgetting to de-stage in present
where reality exists and life is limited to existing processing
process existing like death ramble to hell
to make death early and merciful my answer
for what?
NOT THIS
Stephie's convincing me no matter what, she will not cheat.
That one is a real stormy pit with surging cold front coming
front surging in me, backside will wait until eye floods not
in dry whisps wheezing maybe, tired of crying over a girl.
WATERSOGGY
She convinced me with concurrent moods unfamiliar now.
I just feel the inevitable pain of being axed permanent like...
my inward horizon unseen yet felt beyond foggy notions
I've learned to trust even if wrong, for such errors instruct
us, to lessons of abstract nature to prepare the eventuality
of our escort to manifestations reflecting nothing familiar
old conditions overrun by abstract knowledge, now here
makes a new mood - so highly desirable.
I liked the old ones when she was still mine to have
it's worthy even if untrue for my dreams of any sanity
MOODED
grace, high and dry, less being fav...
The thought of losing her still bloody's floor with cardio
my chest wounds leave me broken without the sorrow
for I'd rather not end my days in a world without her
and I'm pretty sure my frenzied attempt to re-negotiate
the new mood's shadow, cast over my heart like a hat
failed miserably with another slow roll to the presses.
I take as some kind of compassionate compromise
where extra time is provided for me to get used to it
LOL
casting shadows on my face like that
and used up in encore between surviving issue
sees me choking on view to extinguishing flames
the idea itself reprehensible, only she would
unafraid, and really without care still so graceful
so much that these lethal wounds she disallowed
and now this makes a second time with the one
whose to blame! ... when all is mutualized nutbag.
NO
still engaged but connection fading, right?
how much time? is simple, shorter, no doubt
what hope have I remains a crime third time
still a third time really sucks somehow
and I should mention that any killing
possible not for lack of weapons
or killers and triggers
would favor me by ending this
by doing me first
so sick to see her
a third time, is odd, is it not?
COPYRIGHT © 2152011 rjduberg

PS-I hope she never reads this, and my experiment remains less influential outside my control. I prefer her maintain social grace with positive notes even if volume decreases steadily and unresponsive for glory of past.

Somewhat ashamed my general westernized idiom use here hearkened me back all theway to Renee ... so concerned that my choice on a subject that sucks like this will offend or irritate a reader's comfort with this poem.
It talks to a specific time and place and understanding relevant to my life and it sucks but wtf? That's the ramble to hell man

Open to suggestions for replacing my current navigational maps with new associations, for sure.

Namaste,rj

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Great talkers are little doers.