I enjoy the crazy but only for a limited time because I worry that I might dwell there overlong and be a little unsure how to exit. I stopped taking acid long ago because it was just too damned exciting.
Some people like playing with crazy and can do it with not too much ill effects but it worries me. It's always nibbling at my edges and so every now and then I'll open the doors...
That last stanza is especially poignant. There are times where the fear of what's behind an unknown door keeps me away but the "deadly boredom" as you put it, is more of a motivator to try new things. You don't always find the pristine pinata but its possible to find something even better and that outweighs all the not great things you find.
I have seen that bat flying around in the imagination nation, blindly whacking at penyatas. Words wobble out , wringing their hands, wondering what wrong they have wrought or ought or brung about. Is this what they sought, or fought the tiny tendrils of poems brought out by fat bats who fly into walls
I like your response Jack, one of the most poetic things you've written. I think the "madness" genre (I just made this genre up) is very suited to you since you are at least half bonkers. I have written 8-10 of these crazy poems and they are an interesting bunch to be a part of.
Fabulous, mystical, and whimsical poems.
Thanks Stan, and don’t forget batshit crazy.
What if we enjoy the crazy we meet when we pause to meet the bats in our brains??
I enjoy the crazy but only for a limited time because I worry that I might dwell there overlong and be a little unsure how to exit. I stopped taking acid long ago because it was just too damned exciting.
Must be a flaw in me am so delighted when the bats come out to play.
Some people like playing with crazy and can do it with not too much ill effects but it worries me. It's always nibbling at my edges and so every now and then I'll open the doors...
Παν μέτρον Αρίστος
(My dads favorite phrase) xx
That last stanza is especially poignant. There are times where the fear of what's behind an unknown door keeps me away but the "deadly boredom" as you put it, is more of a motivator to try new things. You don't always find the pristine pinata but its possible to find something even better and that outweighs all the not great things you find.
That’s a hell of an insight, thanks Daniel.
I have seen that bat flying around in the imagination nation, blindly whacking at penyatas. Words wobble out , wringing their hands, wondering what wrong they have wrought or ought or brung about. Is this what they sought, or fought the tiny tendrils of poems brought out by fat bats who fly into walls
SPLAT
I like your response Jack, one of the most poetic things you've written. I think the "madness" genre (I just made this genre up) is very suited to you since you are at least half bonkers. I have written 8-10 of these crazy poems and they are an interesting bunch to be a part of.
so. much. fun!
Yeah baby! Let's let lunacy fly....
a perfect poet’s mantra
What a magical poem. I particularly love this:
We happen upon
a piñata dangling along
amidst a parade of delirium
and not a stick in sight!
Candy necklaces
are being tossed
by fabulous ladies
who have been
nibbling alternating
sides of a mushroom
growing right on the float.
Thanks for reading LeeAnn.
Love to read what’s falling out of that head of yours!
Hi Cheryl and thanks.