Artist's self portrait

I ponder myself in my own distorted reflection.
Look true, despite restless discomfort, honest sight prevails.
I am Herculean, yet insomnia reprehensibly restrains.
The picture is unclear, but I think of things long past.



O that I am still alive and see the world through these.
My passionate, melancholy, bottomless eyes.
My body continues I fight for a semblance of normal.
An artist eye sees beyond the caricature of a man.



I am too much in quest of solitude, a successful loneliness.
Although others sit before me, I travel lonely lanes.
Like Atlas, I bear a hefty burden.
I keep it hoisted while I yet walk this plated orb.



Mechanical inventor extraordinaire, portrait or hands, not drawn.
Stopping existence for an instant, look within to see.
Coming back rhyming, always so tired and restless.
Painless torture, continue on, outward I look okay.



Today a movie, dinner with mate, and chocolate cream pie for cake.
The wind of the fan tickles my feet as I recline within the couch.
Inside this modern day cave, I am safe and sound and everything is okay.
Life in the slow lane, I have let the speeders pass, I view the scenery.



Bitter is life's wine, the poisonous concoction ravages my body.
Liberty and mind with price, costly passion through oppression.
I must run on, head on towards that finish, and look not back.
Finish last. Just let me finish even last my self-portrait.



I have traveled halfway around this sphere physically.
Mentally, I have circumnavigated the globe many times.
Libraries are glorious institutions; they allow light travel to a distant oasis.
Treasures on shelves for all to see, read each line, but carefully.



I paint myself too well, stupidity too I see there.
Honesty mingled with stupidity shows another side of me.
Courage with cowardice I see too. Opinionated malcontent stirs within.
I have fought in the mud of disobedience; I am no victor, victory I seek.



My god, or my enemy, allows my slow destruction, as happens to all.
Hatred I see within those eyes, yet compassion softens the blows.
Love cannot be beat from me; I will remember the smell of burning autumn leaves.
Sorrowful soul hold onto love, finish the portrait and sign it at last.



Look back at better times, and hope for good times again.
Keep the thoughts deep within, of times that grow me well.
Forget the uncomfortable, sullen days, and pretend them all away.
I will paint a true picture of my yesterdays from todays recollection.

Composition of subject(s) under study: 100% Bull

My flurry of emotions can no longer be quelled.
No, i'm not talking about myself.
It's the self-proclaimed victim(s) i'm addressing.
Karma is a cruel thing, to those that do not address it face-on.
But whose ignorant mistake is it to take that step of disregarding
its blatant signs.
Blatant signs such as one's lack of emotional intelligence to
recognize that a finger lifted would at least be appreciated, albeit
its strength.
Using the guise of obtuseness as a shield is tantamount to shooting yourself in the foot.
The crime however is to sit back languorously and point fingers.



We've got one hell of a hailstorm coming up.

Happy new another year everyone!

A year away is what i'd like.
New year seems to reek with overflowing optimism.
Little chances people sneak in here and there to condone their
weaknesses. Convincing oneself about fresh starts are only
further encouraged by the ever-lengthening tentacles of commercialism;
far-reaching into the depths of more minds.
However, to apply the word 'depths' is giving some (minds) more credit
than they deserve.
"Bring in the new, out with the old!" , They say.
Old ways of aversion are just further disguised by attempts to gain
more control and power over those favorite habits of yours.
In lieu of your half-baked reassurances....
Remember, you've endured one more year of allowing everyone around
you and yourself to hibernate with your shit. To say the least of the
people you thought remotely liked you. (Maybe now you know the reason
why, considering you're a FEW DAYS smarter with the new year and all that).

By allowing yourself to come to terms with that,
the next year will be a breeze.
Happy 2006!