Olsons Corridor

Man on a Stick

They forced their religion into me

Shoved it in my mouth and nose

So I couldn't say no

And slapped me on the back leaving

So they wouldn't hear me scream

Back at them

That they were followers of nothing

And had no morality

No kindness

No artistic taste

So they could go on believing

And worshipping

A man on a stick

And keep whatever they had received from their crimes.

Enlightenment

Enlightenment

Something switches on

The humanist in the human

Who no longer believes terror necessary

But human rights

Their love not of gods

But mankinds

Skeptic amongst skeptic

Tearing down the cover

Of superstition

Of witchcraft

Of ignorance

Shining the light on the awful wounds

And demanding each infection

Take its medication.

My Death

Huddled cold the dark night embraces

The days brutal hot slowly erases

Left a stem with no flower

Slumped over with no power

I stuff my face with disgrace

And go to bed before the hour

Pain I take what I can

And medicate the rest

A bullet is my dream

Shot straight at the center

All throws thrown

My chance blown

Dedicated and wrong

My death is my own

Watery

There is no hope

There is no love

Only a chair and a remote control

But no self control

I change the stations until I change myself

Fidgeting in discomfort

Trying to escape into the TV

Wired to the thin story line

And watery characters

I become a thin story line myself

And a watery character

One Day

I add my resentment to my "to do" list

And make sure I wear my bad shoes

Put water in my cereal and spoon

The disgusting mess into my mouth

I put on the jacket that is too small

And make my way to a job I hate

The elevator stinks like monkeys

And some man pesters me in French

But with enough English for me to understand

That he wants some of my money

I make my way to my cluttered desk

And pull the most challenging file from the mess

Plunging into work like a mole

My feet hurt and my arm is getting stiff

I take a break for lunch with Al

I hate Al, he can go to hell

The unfaithful son of a bitch

And some of us don't even have wives

I chew my food and listen

Reaching in my brown bag for more

But that's all I brought

I take the worst route home

Through the construction zone

Someone tells me to "get the fuck out"

I go the wrong way and end up at a ravine

There is the sound of some woman shouting

At a boyfriend who is walking away

I stop in at the convenience store

And seriously consider stealing cigarettes

But I don't know if the owner is watching me

And I don't smoke

In my bedroom I take out my revolver

And put it to my head several times

I hear a distinct ringing

And put the gun away under the bed

I drink straight out of the tap

And eat the last of the cereal like chips

While watching my one channel on TV

Before bed I count the change on my dresser

I lye down on the bare mattress

Reminding myself mentally to do laundry

If mom calls, I won't answer

I fall into a dream and the very same life

Comes at me distorted.

Drug Suicide

I light the fire and inhale the smoke

Cough a bit and almost choke

Fire ascending the doobies ending

Time to do my special coke

Again and again now some heroin

Inject that shit its sure to please her

Without warning here comes my seizure

Flopping like a fish the needle stings like a bee

With shaking hands I unwrap the foil and take the LSD

Frosty elephants come out of my breath

As I kneel down bleeding to take another hit of meth

I wipe my burnt finger on my pants

All the colors and patterns begin to dance

I'm breathing heavy I want to run

Doing so much drugs is so much fun

A bit more crack and it's time for bed

Instead I just collapse and am found dead.

The End of Size

The end of size

Mushrooming cucumber

Bent to break

Penetrating the loaf

To put one in the oven

A sideways glance

"You asshole" over the intercom

A bit of sauce squirts on the floor

And a baby squeals

Looking straight at me.

The Duel

Arriving nowhere

Nobody steps out

Heart aimed at nothing

He has come for no one

Opposing him is anything

Anyone draws a gun

Shooting anywhere

At anything

Everyone comes to the rescue

Saving everybody

For every day forward

From everything

Thoughts for Nothing

I really started something evil

In pretending there was agency

Running from life to wicked pleasures

Of art and drugs and masturbation

All to please a certain whore I named God

To dance in her light with all the freedom

Of an adolescent tripping on E at a rave

And believe whatever hallucination provided me with

And hear whatever voice arose from my intoxication

All for nothing I suppose

I renounced the whore God and kept living without pleasure

Disinterestedly reading Nietzsche in a profound depression

Out of love out of creativity out of time

I suppose the pen was my only friend

And when a story couldn't lift my spirits

A drawing could

I couldn't face a social life

The anxiety of being fried in judgement

With questions

The nervousness and awkwardness

Of who I thought I was

And the terribleness of it.

Like Them

Ultimately the shoe fit

I wore it out of spite

Of my ugliness

Spat in the center of the sidewalk

And kept thinking

Along these lines

Walking to an ocean

That never comes to see me

Strongly believing

Issues no one cares about

Feelings arise like foam

Tainting all my thoughts with ignorance

So that I am just like those I hated

For believing without thinking.

Wretched Enjoyment

Moon beam highrise

Dry crispy and bright

Each seed reaches its destination

And blooms into an ocean

A smashed coke bottle

And dried blood

Each contestant

Dragged

Kicking and screaming

From their home

To enjoy this fucking happiness

Made for them

Who would rather be inside

In a game

Or a show

With drapes drawn

As a true cave dweller.

Clouded Company

Souling the depths for change

Moralizing the story

Telling yourself it is the way it ought to be

I've met your type before

Suspending belief

To pull the next tarot card from the deck

Even finding coincidences

In toilet matters

How could any of that be true?

Yes, you agree, how could it?

Then you go on talking

As if a medium was a magical person

And even into Jesus you believe that too

How could you not?

If another persons conviction is good enough

Never in a million years would you ever see something wrong here.

If there are no lies, there is no truth.

Out of Mind Experience

Sorted confused

The path unending

But for me

A blip in the system

The grand universe against

The mind behind my two eyes

The mind behind the mind

And the mind behind the mind behind the mind

The metamind

And outside that

To float in a sort of communal objectiveness

Like the little bird that sees everything

An out-of-mind experience

A relationship with symmetry, pattern, repetition

And a headlong dive into death

Perception fizzles

A Dream

Dipping into consciousness

Pansy rose supplex

Passes my face

And glances my skin

I roll over not quite awake

I'm about to race

And no passive lucidity

Can stop me

I touch the ground with my hand and feel the dirt

Like that guy in The Gladiator

Smell my opponents and sneer

"Eat my dust"

The gun fires

And I shoot out full speed

Ahead of the pack

I am full pumped with adrenalin

Packed with the happiness of winning

And a giant generic super bowl crowd cheers me on

To the finish line

Where I explode with endorphins

Looking upon the losers sore faces

And the excited crowd of friends

All perfect and supportive

This was what was wanted of me

I won

And forever this moment exists as mine

"How stupid" I mutter upon waking

The sunlight of high noon blades across my bed

I feel terribly low

That dream

I go to the fridge and get a glass of water

Is that what I wish for?  To win a race?

I find the toilet and piss

I feel hungover from the dream

And it pesters me

Like some ghost of myself

Pretending to be me.

Legends

Find the facination

Stir deep in the pot with your hand

And bring up the limbs of your ancestors

From the soup that is history

It is in there for you

In Dostoyevsky

In Melville

In countless others whos souls are sheets of writing

Legends

We must stand on these giants

And cast our net ever deeper into the sea

Ripping and dragging truth to the shore

So our eyes too can beam with necessity

To affirm it

As they have done.

Why Do I Have to Die

I know

With a materialistic view

There is no fairy tale

To ressurect me

But why do I have to die?

Gloomy bean bag head

Why is it me dead

In my nightmares and daydreams

I die

But why?

In order for evolution

In order for children

In order for-

But me?

Stop existing?  But why?

Why do I have to die?

Eternal life

Is an eternal lie

I am body entirely

When I have to die

There will be nothing left

To call mine

But why do I have to die?

Lost Destiny

Shattered infinity

Time pieces itself together

And finds man

Destroyer and builder

I sit alone in my dingy

Preaching nothings of my heart

To the sweetness of the empty ocean

My heart sinks lonely

I want to get out while I can

But the current takes me away from shore

And the waving friends on the beach

Grow further and further away

Until they are just a mirage

All Lies Twisted

fidget wild

the sun never forgets

all lies twisted

a sullen smile for the toast

to better days

i am overawake

taking each step lightly

not wanting to jar my brain

the leaves at my feet

and the trees who spat them

thoughts so disordered

it is as though i mixed them

mashed them

with brain working overtime

to find reason in this mess

to find beauty again

caught up in the deadly game

of thinking out loud

Embodiment of Being

My self has lessened.

Once grew here the opened sore of the world

Now grows the opened sore of the individual

His needs over the worlds

Nothing grandeur twinkles

Or shines through a thought.

Morality suspended

Or at any rate, unconscious

Firm wanderings with no adventure

Straight to the store

Straight to the item

Accustomed to no eye contact

Thoughts down or up

Never level

I eat an odd meal

And write a few texts

Yawn over a lazy afternoon

Of negative symptoms

Looking backwards and forwards

And now

I grow seasick

And wish for involvement in some game

Or engrossment in some book

But I don't want to escape the moment

To leave aside the here and now

So it sits with me

And I reside in it

I am conscious of time

Because I check it

Conscious of my feeling

And the embodiment of being.

Machine World

The world

It winds tighter and tighter

In my head

And I feel the pressure of all sides

Until I cannot imangine

Anything at all really exists

It's all just a fabrication

Of pluses and minuses

Inanimate human brains pulsing

Like machines

Walking mechanically

Regurgetating nonsense

Soiling the planet.

Lonely Night With You

Into a summer mess

Out like an egg raw

In its own realm

Where no beauty could touch it

Fiddling with the pliars

I know what you are up to

And as the sun goes down

Feelings press on the windows

And escape through the cracks

The melancholy of death

Marches through every room

And no one is lonely enough.

Brilliant

So brilliant

And no one to see me

No one to tell that I'm brilliant

No one I can tell how brilliant I am

So I tell myself to myself that I am brilliant

So brilliant

I keep staring thinking

How brilliant?

And suddenly I'm puzzled

Brilliant to who?

Brilliant?

Alone.  Alone.  Alone.

And I no longer feel brilliant

But fading into a loneliness

And suffering

Of everyone.

Suspicious Kind

Notes of empty

Passages and crimes

Sending wierd messages

Between the lines

Open to freedom

Closed to war

Broke and eaten

Sleeps on the floor

My time is now

When is it new

Make me proud

With everything you do

Send some shivers

Down my spine

Do some art

Of a suspicious kind.

Getting Back

The glorious or not so glorious

It glimmers back and forth

Being and not-being

Are two agents in the puzzle

When I say now

Pull the trigger

And shoot me full force into life

Into doing, accomplishing, making friends

Find a way to get back

A revenge against the inanimate brick wall of death

And the sour taste

Of bad thoughts.

Awful

Racing thoughts

I wonder her fo-

I don't want to talk about it

Just let go

It is what it is

I don't need to be a Romeo

Just pass back and forth

A shadow moving in a room

An asexual, nonreligious, a man-

Surrendering

Sleep

I won't be bothered

But I am

I get up and scratch my head

It's awful that I die and do not understand.

Forced to Remember

What might have been

Trips me, overcomes me, silences me

I have nothing but my memory

A slick looking binder with pages missing

I walk backwards through my life

Judging myself, praising myself, hating myself

Supersaturated with myself

I look to you

That you might have some repose

From all this remembering

And all you do is pull up the chain

Of your own past

Opening your mind like a giant suitcase

Revealing everything inside

Judgements in multicolor

Trauma hangs loosely and falls to the floor

As if I am to look at that especially

Instead I look to the stars

And wonder how far I can throw my mind

Into the galaxies beyond

Before I die of remembering

Selves and self

Declining health

And one glance

At the inevitable

The ugly truth of death

And all eternity dies

For an alone

Too alone to exist longer.

Reaching for Something

Everything minced

The crowd grows softer

I float through the people

Looking for a washroom

I find one and piss

Lost in some pattern

I desire nothing but a clearing

A single serving of liquor

Fixated on a stream of consciousness

An uninterrupted flow

Of thoughts wandering

A tangent branching

Into many interesting digressions

Back to my hole

I kick the blanket off my pacing strip

And put on music

Mad or displeased or confused

I treat my loneliness with drugs

And find a way to settle down

Back into a black brain

Concerned with nothing

And left dancing

With no thoughts

The music still playing

As I lay on the floor

And begin snoring.

In the Garden

Little flowers of words

Swaying in the breeze

Conscious becomes unconscious

As I stare into the blur of colors

I am rounding out

Solidifying

Hearing whats within

A gentle music

The last twitches of life

Beside the first twitches of life

I am signed out

Left in the garden

From between the leaves 

I stare out at the humans

Like a gnome.

Unsupported

I am unsupported 

I could fall at any time

All my pain

Comes out in every line

I make the day lonely

And the evening bright

Sweat depressed all day

Then later on write

I am unsupported

I have no fame

Not even my closest friends

Can pronounce my name

I waver and display

Rot and puke

Complain and discuss

Criticize and rebuke

And nothing gets done

In my emptying mind

Nothing gets finished

It forever unwinds.

The Special Excitement Of Me Is Death

I feel a little odd saying it

It comes out quivering

Like a chicklet out of an egg

And I sense that you don't wanna hear it

I sense that it doesn't need to be said

And yet out it comes

I erase and start over

I settle for a little less than what I wanted to say

I give in to my self-censoring

And change

Nothing comes out of it

There is no ending

Tomorrow everything will be the same

And I may try again

The special excitement of me is death

I am glad I know that I die

I am interested in the fact that I do die

I crave my worldview to be widespread

But it is rare

And I am alone in what I believe to be true

Like a schizophrenic