The following poem is a beat poem and talks of insanity. Hopefully I described it right.Here is the poem in both written form and video performance.
Over and over and over again.
Under the weather.
Whirling and spinning and spinning and whirling on an endless loop.
A living nightmare, can’t wake up.
The cube is my downfall.
The all enclosing tube.
The door is open, anyone could walk in.
But i can’t leave.
For danger is secure and pain is consistent.
It is all i know, oh to be me again.
The sax plays white noise and the ground rumbles.
The drones are watching.
The polystyrene box in the corner will take the first chance it gets to eat me alive.
Oh my word, i can’t ever seem to get it right.
One leg is shorter than the other.
The coffee pot talks to me and tells me everything is going to be ok.
The kettle tells me that we’re all out of milk.
Intense music makes me see dangerous visions of a paradise far far away.
The man on the street passes by and stops at the traffic lights to eat a bagel.
Where am I?
Women laugh a sad song of prejudice and nail varnish.
For all the horses in the world couldn’t make the pig soar.
Sulphur sits on my plate and my plate is empty.
I dine with Albert the apple and Dave the shepherd.
The box closes the lid and i weep to be busy in this thicket of obsenity
Hopefully I pulled it off authentically. You can see many more of my poems on the beat poetry page of my portfolio.
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