Crazy: How It Feels

Like limestone bricks
pyramid upon soul
ever downward pressing
heaviness distressing.


siphoning breath; 
oven melting madness,
sad, sanity stealing
persecuting feelings.


space-like vacuum
sucking life from the room,
remaining viscous brain
sliding down whirpool's drain.

Where Do You Turn

Where do you go
when there's no place to turn,
when you need help
when you have been spurned?


What do you do
when you're over the edge,
when you reach out,
find only the ledge?


Who do you know
who might see what you need
when you're falling
with increasing speed?


When do you show
people that you need aid?
Can you request
help while you're afraid?


Why is it hard
to just come out and ask
for what you need,
stop wearing a mask?


How do you stop
fearing being ignored
let down your guard,
have your faith restored?


I do not know
the answers to give you
except to say:
Just try it:  do.

Vertigo

Vertigo


If the psyche has an inner ear
mine must be infected
The unsteady whirling 
of my soul leaves me off balance.
Emotional dizziness, spinning,
always uncertain where the
merry go round will stop.
Never sure on my feet,
uncertain at best, and falling
headfirst into the blackness 
below me. Catch me, I'm falling...

The Tragic Soul

The tragic soul yearns for better things: 
it looks beyond the cross 
and reaches past the tomb 
to seek for life unbound by age, it sings. 

The tragic soul yearns for lovers' sighs: 
it soars beyond itself 
and reaches past body 
to seek for love unbound by lust, it cries.
 
The tragic soul yearns for bluer skies: 
it leaps beyond itself 
and reaches past the clouds 
to seek freedom unbound by Earth, it flies. 

The tragic soul yearns for some answers: 
it looks inside itself 
and reaches past questions 
to seek faith unbound by death, it dances. 

The tragic soul yearns for better things: 
it looks beyond the cross 
and reaches past the tomb 
to seek for life unbound by age, it sings.