I'm not what you want

I'm not what you are used to

I don't write things normal

I have a different slant

I don't always make sense

You don't recognize my style

You don't understand me

You are afraid to venture deeper

I puzzle you,confuse you

Perhaps I anger you

Sometimes you back away from my strangeness

You fear my insanity

You fear it's contagious

You think it's outragious

You don't want the oddity

You don't want the demons

You don't want it out of bounds

You want roses

But I am the Alien Poet

I offer you what is me

 

 

 

 

I feel the storm is coming

I feel it in my bones

Something dark is in the making

It's time to hurry home

I fear the storm that's coming

I fear it in my bones

Something dark is in the making

It's not time to be alone

I crave the storm that's coming

I crave it in my bones

Something dark is in the making

The time is in my zone

 

The Moodchanger beckons

And it's time to move on

Just when it gets comfortable

One shade fades into another

Lightblue suddenly becomes darker

Then into red, fire red

Take cover! The signals are clear

Guard yourselves

The Moodchanger is here.

 

 

I see a man in the tunnel, I see a woman in the tunnel, I see a child in the tunnel.

I see the tunnel is dark, the tunnel is long, the tunnel is narrow,the tunnel is wide.

I see colors here and there in with the black and gray.A bit of blue, a splash of red.

I see images far down somewhere ahead.I hear echos...echos...echos.

I hear voices but it's unclear what they've said.I come closer and still don't understand.

I get closer and closer but they can't be reached.

I scream at them and it echos back.They don't answer,they don't turn around.

I feel I know them ...do I know you? Hello !Can you hear me?They continue through the tunnel.

I hear my words echo back at me. Wait, stop!Who are you? Where are you going?

I hear my words echo over and over in my head.

I see them turn a corner and I follow .A bright light turns on,blinding me.

When I'm able to see I am in shock.The three lie on a butcher block.Eyes open, but dead.

I almost recognize them, but I turn and run.I run through the tunnel.

I run all through the tunnel, don't look back,don't look back.Run,run,run.

I run until I see the beginning of the tunnel.I run to escape. I run out of the tunnel and fall out of my head.

 

If I said I love you, would you leave me?Would you stay?

If Isaid I love you, would you laugh?Would you cry?

If I said I love you,would you live?Would you die?

If I said I love you, would you fall?Would you crawl?

If I said I love you,would you hush?Would you speak?

If I said I love you,would you be strong?Would you be weak?

If I said I love you,would you wake up?Or Would you stay asleep?

Go ahead and sleep.I'll tell you tomorrow.

I love you.

 

Counting on you for a diagnosis, counting on you, counting,counting,counting,counting,

OCD,OCD,OCD,OCD,among other things,among other things,  other things,other things,other things, other things

Counting the other things,counting the other things,counting the other things,counting the other things,counting,counting

OCD..backwards it's DCO..Dreaded Counting Obsession.DCO,DCO,DCO,DCO

Three letters in DCO,three letters in OCD...Three...3 and 3 is 6.You can count on that.

 

 

the man took the steps down in stages down to get his wages.

20 steps down,then 20 steps down,then 20 steps down.

underground level.paychecks.sign here,then take the steps down to sub level 2 and get check

10 steps down,10 steps down,10 steps down to the underground check releaser.get wages.

then  10 steps up,10 steps up,10 steps up,then 20 steps up,20 steps up, 20 steps up to the street.

the man ,out of breath, clutched his paycheck to his chest as he passed the elevator.

 lookin for my money, my last little bit of money,gotta have my money,where is my money?

gotta pay the rent, gotta pay the gas,gotta pay the phone,gotta pay the car,gotta pay the insurance,gotta pay the registration,gotta pay the grocer, gotta pay...Everything.

Where's my money ? This ain't funny.I got lint in my pocket.

Lint in my pocket!

Gettin down with the money blues.

 the trail lead to the edge of the outer rim,I have been there many times before.

I knew the way well,but sometimes I had trouble with the trip back.

Looking over the edge,I felt my heart jump as always and my breath caught.

My eyes beheld the awesome sight of the beginning and the end.

Again I was filled with a most compelling urge to step over the edge,as before.

The great dark blue vastness seemed to be calling my name ,moving closer I closed my eyes

I felt as though the icy wind would sweep me away and I wanted to go,wanting to fly free.

Opening my eyes, I felt the tears kiss my face.The wind chilled me and I shivered.

Turning , walked away from the edge of the outer rim ,found the trail and journeyed my way back home.

I knew I must grasp the new day.

 

 

I'm comfortable with my insanity, at least...I can live with it.

I'm used to it and know it well , we've been together for a long, long time.

I'm not afraid of it , we co-habitate extremely well, it fits, it's mine.

It is part of me like the skin I wear, it's always with me.

No one will ever understand me, I accept that .Not everyone will accept me, I understand.

My craziness is at times a friend,other times an enemy.

Angels keep me within reach, my demons keep me  from being bored.

My head runneth over with activity, it literally almost never shuts off.

Insomnia has me in it's rein.I've learned how to take advantage of it.

It's a part of me also.It's mine. It isn't going anywhere.

I'll never be free but I'm the free-est soul I know. I'm captured, but I'm the butterfly.

If you walk away with a thought to my insanity, I hope you smile.I'm not normal,but I'm fine.

I hear a waterfall of laughter all around me. I'm in good company .It's mine.

 

 

 

What difference does it make? That I am Different?

So what, i ask you, what is so bad?

Aren't we all different? Or are we all the same?

Don't you prefer to be different? Doesn't your soul cry out for it?

Maybe it just happens.It happens i am different.It happens you are not.

If you are not different,then are you the same?The same as what..as everyone else ?

Then i am wrong because i am different.I Am Different.Therefore i am wrong.Right?

Everybody has a daisy painted on their faces.I have a frog on mine.I like it.Must i conform?

You would feel better if i were like you. I can't be Like you...but i like you.

Ribbit.