After All the Years of Freaking Out About Being Didactic

can't be another hitler

in those dark shades

that bleed away all the color

reduce these visions to black and white

I post-modern man all wary

staying away from drawing lines in the sand

or declaring anything permanent

for any length of time

refusing

to be a judge

in a court

of impossible standards

I oblivous stoic going thru my mundane day

MONKED AWAY from the masses

telling no one what I do

learning to listen

fishing for words

unknowingly illumating pages of my most sacred text

winning a little

finally

some days

in the bitter bloody war with ennui

no longer suspecting

there is more than is dreamt of in our philosophy

i am walking quietly along the waterline at the beach

behind out of nowhere

where there is no one

A SUCKER PUNCH!!!

BAM!!

RIGHT TEMPLE!!

STAGGERING

ain't

NOTHING

i can do

but

CLOSE MY EYES

accept the swoon

GO WITH THE FALL

I seem to know

i CAN'T LOOK at MY ATTACKER

without dying

the creature's standing in the center

of an awesome crash

of lightening bolts

thousands

zig-zagging crazily down

out of the blue sky

striking

the beach and exploding

inside the firestorm of lightening strikes

I sense a master traveler

looking out at me

A BEING FROM CREATION

a horrifying creature

of SAVAGE GRACE

KNOW

the rough beast's

time has come round

at last at last

there was no slouch

this creature stood tall and proud

my body became as dead to those around me

my thoughts blown wondrously throughout time and space

My name disappears from my head

I sense

the creature

does this

to tell me

it too

is seeking a name

i sensed

i would

have died

had it wanted

from then on my pain seemed carefully measured

as if the creature

were only hurting me enough to drive me

mad enough

for the undreamt mission

gone baby gone for days

lost from body and soul

a corpse never so alive

they great they called THE COSMIC STING a seizure

keep me strapped down and drugged out

takes days and days to fully identify the obviously fictional

in my charged and cautious and exuberant

dream of dreaming

crawling back up into myself

I find I am filled with sensations of the sacred

dreaming of cosmic order

I worry my cravings for peace

are the residuals of a bout with mad

something the new med.'s

will push out of my head in a few weeks

maybe some mentat* chain will break and I'll write

my happy sappy

got over the depression

post-treatment tract

fret what if I am going to crash

and wake up baffled

by how I was ever

stupid and deluded enough

to put my faith

back in this system

hope

is the last thing we expect

to find in a voting booth

we've been burned before

we're all scarred up

shot up and jailed and abused and wasted

and you name it baby

still

I sense

inside us

a mighty roar

that will make them shit themselves and run

call me crazy whatever

I have been preparing

for this moment

all of my life

yr words

will never hurt me again

I'm ready

to fight you

stick for stick

stone for stone

or

just

forgive

you

with a kiss

on the cheek

and a

welcome to the show