Wake the Hell Up

So I wake up and buy a ticket to nowhere,

a one way ride into the emptiness of my mind

To prove to myself

That an immigrant of logic won’t just migrate to the cockles of my heart

Which contains all my choice of reason and words that do not rhyme

In order to wake up from reality

And fall back into my dreams

Where it’s just you and me and a camera

That captures every moment of the feelings I long to express in words

But no words can express.

How cliché of me…  (stop)

But I guess that’s poetry.

Clichéd phrases with meanings out of the ordinary

That dig into that uncomprehended soul of wisdom and artistry.

A jumble and mumble of moody complaints

Inspired by a leaf falling and landing on the window

Leading to conclusions

Of why we live

In a world so cold and full of nothing but shit

And the fact that we chase that shit up and down empty ally ways

Pursuing for a false light of hope

To ignite that love that will probably be buried under all your insecurities.

So wake up

To the fact that poetry is derived form red roses and blue violets

That are actually not blue, but violet.

But you see

That is what a poet does;

They confuse and mesmerize you with words

Injected by the drugs of insanity

Mixing them into cocktails of forgotten questions.

Wake up to the fact that poets are just talented spinners of reality

And I am proud to say

I belong to the community of frustrated spinners

Who search for deepness in shallow chocolate milk cartons and vodka bottles, or any bottle  

Or the romantic side of an earlobe.

I just have a talent for rotating perspectives into phrases

That only I will understand

But that somehow you’ll feel them in the deepness of your veins

As they crash into your inner thoughts

That make you believe that I am actually writing about something worth while. Well I’m not;

This is not the sign you were looking for in the starry night

That is just as hidden as your desires for that kiss.

This is just me,

Throwing out random thoughts

Of just about every painful nip

That has been taken to my battered mind and built heart.

Wake up into the parallel dimension

Where these words transport you away

From your death eating, agonizing, time consuming, worthless and pitiful complications

To figure try out what in the world I am writing about.