I am now aware a star cannot shine
Outside of its fixed position in space
Nor do I float aimlessly amid the divine
No, nailed to my temporal sticking place
I mirror the madness of the crowds
With the madness that’s inside me
And these words I have dared to write out loud
Reveal me more than hide me.

Furiously pounding on the drums
My wild syllables, frenetically styled
Like sticks’ stroking a deafening hum
Whether a master’s or a child’s
Only echoed the day’s intensity
They only ever could.
Passion or madness drownd the simplicity:
The mouthpiece of the good.

Silence? A neglected orchestral delight.
The best poem- an apple upon a table.
A watching moon in winkless night.
The fog that pastures ’round the stables
Grazing in the dim hours
Until its chopped up by the mad parade
Humanity jumping at eternal powers
We march, we bang, we loudly rave,

And beat away what is graciously ours.

Funny
How deeply you can love
A tiny thing

One slip of fur and ears
And teeth that used to bite
Until the illness

Now my heart cracks and weeps
Whenever the little one suffers
And I wish it was in my power

To make her permanently well.

Sometimes I miss the offbeat notes
Hammering dusk down offroads
Limps that masquerade as
Coiling for a jump, in trade
Every extended knee is one
Great shove towards the sun
Roiling in his own indifference

In a grading system of disparity
We reward apogee and perigee
Our middle scores are disregarded
The highs and lows alone get lauded
Contrast paraded before the youngest eyes
As a finish line, a glittering prize
Which becomes a kind of drug

As the saucer askew in diagonal spin
Rollicking towards chaotic destruction
Grinds the table, frenetically audacious
In reckless rejection of the safer stasis
So the lip’s edge may kiss the sky,
Without twirl the rim never reached so high
Like a rollercoaster ride offrail

There’s a faint nostalgia to the striving
Destroying the wall between living and dying
To rebuild with the damaged bricks and stone
One monument to stand alone
Amid a thousand failures not a falter
All things sacrificed at the altar
Of the single, gleaming talents
It’s the selfish ambition of Imbalance

That brings us back for more.