Trippin' On a Head Wound
Soul Hole...
Darkened deep is the hole in my head,
and occupied by a gentleman’s riot
of tiny, belligerent cranium puppets
in heated disagreement over taking turns
regurgitating yesterday’s garbage.
No news is old news gone stale and
covered in fuzzy, blue mold that forms
psychedelic brain spiders - spinning
ashen webs in the frame of my mind so
to incubate their iridescent eggs, which
quickly hatch into armored fireflies
flashing yellow’s caution and spitting
diamond-cut sparks from a destructive
demeanor. Dropping a kerosene curtain of
holographic illusions and igniting the
charcoal silk of their birth with rainbow
flames that explode into hallucinations
of hopelessness. Intense, pretend heat
causes the backs of my eyes to begin
bleeding, streaking my vision red and
internally bruising neural puppets a putrid
state of purple. Struck numb by contentment,
oily drool leaks from their slack,
sagging jaws and seeps as porous puss
from my mildewed head wound. Caught by
wax in the trap of my ear and quickly
sent back to mental confinement, where the
gravity of thought spoils and festers into
a wet, gelatinous fog of ingrown
convictions and mindful madness...
A welcomed escape
From the scorn
of
a
spiteful reality...
(2013)
It would be rather difficult for me to break this one down and really try to explain it... Those who truly possess the soul of a natural born poet will not require an analysis; I think we all know this feeling quite well... ;^)
P.S.
'''Captain Obvious''' says, "Comments and/or ratings are the cleanest burning and most soul-effective fuels for any amount of inspiration!"
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