WHEN THE LAKE SPARKLES

An ecstasy for me
Is when words sound out
Themselves, and express a thing,
Round out a truth.

That I love that my brain works that way
Makes me a poet.

Anther ecstasy, immediate,
Is when there are no words that can say
What sun and wind do on water
And to me.

That I love that my brain doesn't work when the lake sparkles
Makes me alive.

PROBLEM SOLVED

If I do whatever feels good in the moment,

Adding positives that gratify the instant,

It calculates: what feels good PLUS what feels good PLUS what feels good

EQUALS hangovers and mania.

If I avoid what causes hangovers and mania,

Omitting negatives that didn’t work the first time,

It calculates: what causes bad MINUS what causes bad MINUS what causes bad

EQUALS a void life. (I avoided living.) What have I got left?

I am trying to sit still a minute, and figure out my desired outcome,

Then build an equation backwards –

THIS may not feel good, or THAT may cause pain,

But it calculates: PLUS this and MINUS that and MULTIPLY the other

EQUALS the sum at which I hope to arrive.  Right?

What adds up for you? I advise:

Don’t waste your time with digits that do nothing for the final answer.

Find real numbers that are true for you and add only that every day.

I think that will solve the problem. I’ll keep you posted.

CRAZY IDEAS

Crazy Ideas:

Maybe I could eat only when necessary only what is necessary,

Like treating a disease called starvation.

Maybe I could wear only the most functional clothes, like a mumu or a robe,

Or my Jedi costume every day. Could I?

Crazier Ideas:

Maybe I should never get in a car again. Maybe I should stop talking altogether.

Hyperlink John Francis, environmentalist.

Maybe I should sign up on Freecycle, and give away all my possessions at once,

And change my name to something Elfin or Hobbit. Should I?

Not So Crazy Ideas:

Maybe I will stick to a schedule. Maybe I will remember to take my meds.

SIT. STAY. Good girl.

Maybe I will turn off the electric buzz of my devices and power down.

Close my eyes, and rest. Will I?

The Craziest:

I want to open my eyes in every sense, and see souls, and hear them.

To let them stop me in my tracks.

I want to walk at the pace of my heartbeat. I want to walk everywhere.

To write to the same rhythm.  May I?

Oh, let me receive every embrace and hold on.

Let me follow whims and pray and give thanks.

Let me honor everything I find that is tender and broken.

Let me let in this crazy stream of coulds, and shoulds, and wills, and mays;

Let me let flow this stream of consciousness from the desert mother’s mouth.

Let her answer me - YES. Yes, daughter, you must.

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Francis_%28environmentalist%29)

(note from the poet: I don't mean to be offensive with the word, "crazy." It's in my own head, about my own head.)

Work in Progress

I haven't figured out how to edit this yet. But I'm feeling this a lot today.

WORK IN PROGRESS

The voices in my head
who are me
keep up a stream
of instruction that I hear
with varying degrees
of attention and reaction.

Emotion: guilt desire fear shame hope

Right now they are loud
and I am inert
listening and puzzling
unable to sort out a direction
unwilling to accept
the solution of more medication.

Progression: bearing my brain in bloom