Enlightening Nonsense

.

I got out of bed one day

And saw a “normal” life in flames

A jug of water within reach

I watched it char to ash

For what is the point of waking up

Only to live a nightmare?

.

Through progress and setbacks

I still imagined that I was moving forward

Despite feeling like my feet were cast for a Hollywood star

And I forgot to step out before the cement dried

.

Now despite periodic inspiration

And visualization

And manifestation

It all feels like infestation

An intrusion

Of illusion

With delusion

And NOTHING holds my attention

Be it saving the world…or burning it down

.

Once I desired

To bed 10,000 women

Wilt Chamberlain, Warren Beatty and myself

The residing Prophets of Penetration

But while my hammer still works

Banging nails into boards now seems meaningless

Except to hang up a sign that reads:

“OUT OF BUSINESS”

.

There was a time I thought I was helping people with their health

But as my prices climbed

The only people who could afford me

Became the rich and entitled

Whose mark of success

Was measured in dollars and number of people on their payroll

Fitness was only ancillary

And soon I was just another whore

Collecting a paycheck

Wondering how much longer before all the loveless trysts

Would ejaculate the last piece of my heart out through my genitals

.

I went through many classes, workshops, certifications, diplomas, degrees and intensives

Which added more letters to the end of my nametag

But nothing of value

Impressive only to those whose eyes can’t see the cry of my tears unwept

Whose ears can’t hear the melody of my song unsung

.

And so I find myself born again

But unlike an infant with eyes wide open

Marveling at the colorful playground without boundaries

Within which it has been miraculously placed

My eyes see only in black and white

No seesaws and merry-go-rounds

Only fences

.

My whole life

Has been nothing but taking a few practice rolls

Down the alleyway

Where strikes and gutter balls

Are equally not recorded

And now the announcement has come over the speaker:

“IT IS TIME TO START THE GAME!”

But the game isn’t bowling—

But badminton

And suddenly a lifetime of shoving my fingers into heavy balls

And timing my steps and release just right

Prepared me in no way for rackets and shuttlecocks

And I am just as pathetic as the newest newbie

Who never played any sport

Or sported any idea of Self-realization

.

Perhaps the cup half-full people would say,

“What a humbling experience—

And only the humble will get into Heaven!”

I wish I could drink in their half-full elixir

Not to quench any thirst

But so I could smash the empty glass

Across their fuckin’ heads

And release their Pollyanna politics

That sees God as a business

And Heaven as a job opportunity

Whose only value is that it is better than the Joneses

Who are working without air conditioning in Hell

I don’t care for Humble Pie

And Arrogant Pie makes my ass just as fat

.

They say misery enjoys company

But I prefer to anguish alone

To watching cheerleaders wave their pom-poms

And kick their legs

In admiration of all my “gifts”

For they don’t realize that if they untied the bow

And opened the box

They would find it empty inside

.

The wrapping is pleasant enough to look at

But when I shake the box

It is light and hollow

And no “good deeds”

Or “mission”

Or “saving the world”

Can fill up this sealed package

.

And when you stop looking forward to birthdays

You might as well welcome a deathday

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 5th, 2010 at 8:57 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.