Showing posts with label compulsion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compulsion. Show all posts

Saturday, December 12, 2015

You take the Wagon, I'll Walk


Call it a compulsion, some do.
A dependence, that's a little strong
for a need that's called a want.
Can't help it, I'm not in control,
something takes over me,
its always right there-I could...
and all these have me consumed.
Obsessed, I don't see it that way,
but others do, see signs, like theirs-
the jaw gives it away.

The blame game is fun too,
it must be that the jeans are too tight.
Sometimes breathing is the hardest thing to do.
If you try to quit, I know desperation, infatuation,
give you a raise you can't refuse.

Stimuli, it is called physiological.
Personality, is embedded, biological, maybe...
and might there be other habituals and rituals
toxic but not intoxicating-tolerance is discouraged.

I don't deny my own flesh and blood
has been sacrificed for my own cause.
It's my body, self-satisfaction and
distractions from your dutiful employment
as a clean-coming human whose sobriety
is always a right when given a choice of
life with poetry, its pain and withdrawal
or an existence without the possibility of significance.

Since its all in my head,
any-which-way,
and there's no shortage of excuses-
I will wrestle with these wily words,
wanting more, needing a fix, hating myself,
hiding and using, manipulating and placating
going broke, being ostracized and advised
until there is no more poetry left anywhere-
or I'll likely overdose on what I've said.





Image of painting by Arthur Nikutowski, The broken wagon, 1852 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Tres (trace)

Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...