July 13th, 2003 9:38 a.m. pdt
Inside, deep, dedicated, heartfelt, I know the feelings are let loose,
And the pent up inefficiencies of others' illusions do not touch my psyche at all.
Oh, they think they know it all and only know what they don't,
and I have always sworn that I know nothing,
But yet feel all.....
And each week I read and hear of life's little skirmishes which result in pain,
And lingering,
And death,
And destruction.
And each day I feel that I am not a part of this insanity, and that in sanity, I live
untouched, but futilely feeling of the fervent fevers of frustration that
Cause the masses to unleash this bubbling anger
I was untouched perhaps, and then,
Unknowing and unwanting, the full force of insanity's blows hit me left right and center,
I am a malleable dummy, pushed inside out with incredible ease,
By the purported sabotage inflicted by those for whom I once held respect.The days can pass without knowledge.
That existence can deny reality is a truth as old as our consciousness.
I am rife with hurt and agonize now nightly
Because inconsequential inconsistencies can be set up as emotional bullets
Which rip my self satisfied facade to burnt shreds.Are those whom I respected yet do not now playing games with my psyche?
Are they who are clueless to clarity charting the course of my life?
Are the inmates running the asylum of insanity?
And, In Sanity, do I live in my skin?
Or, does insanity live in my skin, as they think?Because they never knew anything anyway. They choose to believe what they see.
I know I am sanity solidified, shouting only because they can't hear.
That is the way it has always been. That is the way it is.
The clueless and the cancerous cacophany of indifference, laughing
All the way to smug delight,
Cannot know truth,
Cannot know pain,
Cannot know what it does to me.So I am called by the insane as in sanity I trust.
"Do you think you need help?" they ask trustingly,
Unbeknownst to them that the sabotage did not begin yesterday,
And the ineffectual stupidity of mankind, who documents each tirade
as if it were insanity's call to arms,
And his ticket out of inconsequentialness,
Because he is smarter than I had thought."They know how to push your buttons", they told me.
"They are hurt by your truthfulness."
Truth hurts.
And I have always thought I could see the truth coming.
But I didn't see this coming.
That is because it is not life's truth,
But life's lies,
And the talent to proceed will never hamper the truth in my eyes.
Link to the complete text versions of Poetry in 2003
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
ElectricPoetry
AllThingsMike
