Another Vintage Forray.....

Hey everyone. Happy President's Day Eve Eve to you all. I hope you celebrate by wearing a stove-pipe hat and freeing some of the slaves from your basement. I know I will! The offering today was written in a small (read: very small) studio apt. in Perugia, Italy. I had had a fairly rough night and was shot down by multiple women and trying to reevaluate my life's outlook. Trying, as always, to figure out what is going wrong. I am always analyzing like that. It's.....ummmm.... I don't know. I guess it's just me. Enjoy this rambling, somewhat heavy handed analysis.

A Poet's Lament


I stare at a Blank Page

No words, No meaning, No Life

And I wonder, how do I differ?

I see nothing, yet am I not also nothing?

I feel that I am shrouded

But in what I do not know

Has my life tumbled out of control?

Have I changed without my knowledge?

Perhaps.... Perhaps

I feel that my inability to communicate with humanity

Has left me with a void

Meaning is there, yet I convey none of it

Life tumbles on around me

But something seems to be missing

Have I become so inept that I've been masked?

Laughter emits from a distant source

I know not why it angers me

Where do my failings end and my life begin?

I have striven to do my best, yet who is to say this?

I feel confused, I feel alone, I feel...... off

Purpose of Life blurred

Blurred by a social concept called success

Who has made it this way?

If man is a noble being, as it has been said

Why must we suffer for simply being born into a cruel world?

My words reflect feelings, yet they are viewed by none

It seems to be no more than an empty auditorium

In which I conduct an orchestra for an audience composed of myself

Time tumbles on, what one chooses to do is inconsequential...

Or is it?

So. I think a lot of that felt fairly accurate on my current state. The success stuff semmed a bit forced. Oh well. Enjoy!