At Long Last (a poem)





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Published on Jan 3, 2009

At Long Last...
Music - Flowers Die by Vidian

At long last, looking back
at my past, I crack
can't go on, this forgone
damn maze and haze
of confusion, delusion
kill my soul, there's no goal
or role to extol
Just me, my fatigue
i'm so out of my league
mistake after mistake, I made
or I laid
this ambivalence, no equivalence
just endless confusion
psychotic delusions, paranoid persecutions
am i a martyr a hero
a starter or a zero
just fearing the pain
the searing red rain
of hurt and closeness
so i revert and digress
to protect my wrecked
soul, and control
wishing it were so easy
the storm rages on
hail, lighting, breezy
both outside and in
i have such thin skin
the mirror i look in, seeing my twin
has no life, i don't know how i got this low
this strife, this joke called life
humanity, all seems like insanity to me
a tasteless joke on reality
i choke on the banality
and distance myself from here and now
how can i find a way out
to connect this wreck, this mess,becoming less and less
disappear, i long to
or find a way to renew
does it matter, i just get fucked up
fucked over, steamrolled, i fold
disdain, defeat, i retreat under my sheets
until this egocentric narcsissm
causes a mental schism
and i am forced outside
by the blinding light of pride
to be defeated in masochistic glory
destroying this story
and i
die inside
again and again and again
and then
i'm ready
to stop this insanity
this name blame game
this pointless search for meaning
this lie i should be leaving
and remember once more
what i'm here for,
open the door and roar and
find a place beyond redemption or regret
i can't go back or forget
time keeps on ticking
fighting, kicking and I
just have one chance, to untrance
and remember the ember
that glows, knows, shows
a way back to hope, beyond cope
beyond closing, retreating, defeating
beyond sleeping and dying
forget that, i'm trying
forgetting myself, i'll get up again,
not out of hate, but hoping that when,
hope will arise, and shine and try
i'll not just try and figure out why
i cry
or regret my mistakes
the path i can't change or shake
but instead
i will live with no sense of dread
yes instead
i will make a choice and rejoice
knowing the facts to be true in my head and
not regretting
because one day i'll wake up and be dead.


This poem, along with a few others I wrote on the road, during the holiday, the videos are from Sonoran Desert near Tucson, further south near Nogales and Boulder, Colorado.


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