A Fire There Was

A fire there was
And is, I suppose
Still

Yet distance, the distance
Between, in darkness
The forest flight
Leads me away
From further light
And farther flights
I cannot fight
Anymore

For the fire's warmth
Was never mine

Though playful sparks
In the trusting dark
Did fly up alighting upon the trees
And light a place, my weary heart
To hope to help
And feed the flame
And burn away my older name

A convict's how
A wolven howl
The moon still hidden
Behind creeping clouds

My head hangs down
Cold off and alone
Far from the fire
I once had known

And loved so

And now wish

Who knows what

Perhaps the ashes I kept
In a pocket, secret, secure
Will keep me warm

Till someday
Perhaps I'll return

To the fire that was
And is, I suppose
Still

Though driven away
To the dark I may be
Cold off and alone
Far from the fire
I once had known

And loved so

Its warmth another home

Had I would feed it still

Though I wish

Not to kill its kindling
With overt indulgence

But in the cold and snow

How now I do miss it so...

Histrionic

The following is an excerpt from a particularly fascinating wikipedia article:

Histrionic personality disorder (HPD) is defined by the American Psychiatric Association as a personality disorder characterized by a pattern of excessive emotionality and attention-seeking, including an excessive need for approval and inappropriate seductiveness, usually beginning in early adulthood. These individuals are lively, dramatic, enthusiastic, and flirtatious.

They may be inappropriately sexually provocative, express strong emotions with an impressionistic style, and be easily influenced by others. Associated features may include egocentrism, self-indulgence, continuous longing for appreciation, feelings that are easily hurt, and persistent manipulative behavior to achieve their own needs.

People with this disorder are usually able to function at a high level and can be successful socially and professionally. People with histrionic personality disorder usually have good social skills, but they tend to use these skills to manipulate other people and become the center of attention.^[1] Furthermore, histrionic personality disorder may affect a person's social or romantic relationships or their ability to cope with losses or failures.

People with this disorder lack genuine empathy.^{[citation needed]} They start relationships well but tend to falter when depth and durability are needed, alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation. They may seek treatment for depression when romantic relationships end, although this is by no means a feature exclusive to this disorder.

They often fail to see their own personal situation realistically, instead tending to dramatize and exaggerate their difficulties. They may go through frequent job changes, as they become easily bored and have trouble dealing with frustration. Because they tend to crave novelty and excitement, they may place themselves in risky situations. All of these factors may lead to greater risk of developing depression.

Additional symptoms include:

• Exhibitionist behavior.
• Constant seeking of reassurance or approval.
• Excessive dramatics with exaggerated displays of emotions.
• Excessive sensitivity to criticism or disapproval.
• Inappropriately seductive appearance or behavior.
• Excessive concern with physical appearance.
• Somatic symptoms, and using these symptoms as a means of garnering attention.
• A need to be the center of attention.
• Low tolerance for frustration or delayed gratification.
• Rapidly shifting emotional states that may appear superficial or exaggerated to others.
• Tendency to believe that relationships are more intimate than they actually are.
• Making rash decisions.^[2]

Humilit and Pride

Looks like ya called me out
My acts been foiled and my business brought way down
You say all my prayin’ for the city’s just playin’ for some pity
Somehow I still have my doubts

I never wanted your sympathy, sir
But perhaps some attention just to say
Could you please look the other way
Humility and pride, there’s no balance I can find like you

Looks like I’ve been found out
My masks all torn up and my rocket shot down
Just when I’d learned they’d built a bridge that couldn’t be burned
I heard that small crackling sound

I never wanted your argument, sir
But perhaps just a moment to say
Could you please let me out of your way
Humility and pride, there’s no balance I can find like you

So I’ll forget it, I’ll forget all about
Everything you told me to most recently
And even though I still can’t figure it out
You seem to say even then there’s so much more that’s wrong with me

I never wanted your heartbreak, sir
But perhaps just some kind words to say
It’s time I admitted I got way too carried away
Humility and pride, there’s no balance I can find like you

Don't Look Back

Between the building and the bleeding
We find ourselves retreating
Our souls softly seceding from this dichotomous view
And I am one, but so separately incarnate
For I am become one, but still not one with you

Between the balance and the backward steps
I cautiously and callously, yet somehow clamorously crept
Into a hiding place where I saw traces of the moonlight
Dimmed reflections of a damned imperfection
For I am now undone, around a corner, eye-to-eye

Between the breaking and the birthing pains
You take no note of what had till now remained
The specks in each my eyes you wipe away like a child’s tears
And I’m not sure of anything, still hacking off at bitter limbs
But you are surely everything that drives away my fears

The more I find myself by the tricks of this fatal trade
The more defined by empty mindsets, every gilded glint of what I’d gained
To lose much more in passing time and pass the time to watch it fade
I am a silhouette of something more, and only you now know my name

The Joke

Who are these? Your puppet-masters?
Oh boy, did I guess right?
Please won’t you get me out of here?
Just get me out of here tonight!
I don’t need another chain-link fence
That’s been painted picket white
Just to disguise all the barbed wire
That keeps us low and out of sight.

You’re so afraid of what’s been done
But look at you now, what you’ve become
You’re so afraid of what’s to come
But look at you now, shoestrings undone
and still you run
That looks like so much fun

Who are these? Your silent killers?
Oh boy, can I play too?
Please won’t you teach me how to fight
So I can be like you?
I don’t another useless lesson
In a morality long bereft
Just lead me out with gun in hand
With empty honor all that’s left

You’re so afraid of what’s been done
But look at you now, what you’ve become
You’re so afraid of what’s to come
But look at you now, shoestrings undone
and still you run
That used to looked like fun

Who are these? Your passive prayers?
Oh boy, can I play too?
Please won’t you teach me how to fight
So I can be like you?
In towers tall, with steeples taller
And pride that scratches God
But every time he scratches back
You shoot him ‘cause he’s odd

You’re so afraid of what’s been done
But look at you now, what you’ve become
You’re so afraid of what’s to come
But look at you now, shoestrings undone
and still you run
I guess it’s all for fun

21st Century Soliloquy

numbers trace the signal
electric clues to the source
hints of reminiscence
a garish glimpse of remorse
an empty text of long life in the living
partially paused in plastic places
twisting fiction of memory
hollow names and backward faces

if you want the truth
i’m afraid of anything that could make me feel
my missing you
is just a way of looking for something out there real
but i have found a way around it
with scattered words and misplaced humility
the disconnect my only grounding
when all i know is my own fragility

the dust, electric in its transport
now claims new eyes unseen
blinking slow in patterns blurred
sterilized yet never really clean
a generation on the edge of ending
cynicism, a regulated response to fear
connections, one island to another
listen loudly to the static of one deafened ear

synchronize the angst and agony
smiling synonyms rushed to end for pictures’ sake
post another pastime on a pleading public
perchance they writhe under the winsome wake
so much for breathing
too many hands to hold within
a deft and a dashing
mistake, missing the very feel of skin

if you want the truth
i’m afraid of anything that could turn the tide
my leaving you
is just a way of running from the hope you held inside
i couldn’t find a way around it
with shattered hearts, declarations of futility
my deepest desire now dead here surrounding
when all i know is my own fragility

JUST ADD WATER

the hunger is a sword that cuts down the population
and tracks you like the government across a foreign nation
the GDP of industries that call themselves economies
are run by debts of innocence lost to separate parties
agendas formed from greed and fear
till politics just disappear
replaced by something a bit less poli, a bit more tactical
while the old ones tell you to be responsible, logical, and practical

and i used to think that not conforming was like secretly storming
a castle made of clay baked too long on a hot day
a code ready for cracking but reacting got us back to where we started
but that departed, so i thought revolution would be less like prostitution
selling our bodies to companies, consumers to the core
and i thought all of our ignorance would even out eventually
but what’s more, it seems that we’ve all gotta be attached to something actually
intended for the remaking, just shaking with fragility

we’re blinded, we’re blinded, my brother, we’ve all been blind-sided
caught off-guard by those we trusted to protect what we could never know
we’re gifted, been enlisted in a program to deny it, though
an institution that has skated by for long enough to satisfy a temporary rush
all the time ignoring that there’s a big, big picture, and we’re all just playin’ paints
with a very tiny brush

so cast aside the anarchy which still plays by the rules
of societies built on so many self-centered schools
of thoughts that are not so much progress as progression
in a desperate search for happiness that leads straight to depression
and obsession with the madness of the me, me, me
as i hear an international chorus that can only ever agree
that as long as imaginary boundaries still separate us all
then is it alright to stumble as we wait for it to fall

cast it all aside like a temporary squall
a wave or two will crash but the game is made of walls
you can scale them if you wanna but the outcome is the same
it’s at the center of our souls and it knows all of our names