Thursday, March 22, 2012

Some of my poems for you


What difference does it make?
That I am Different.
So what, I ask you, what is so bad?
Aren't we all Different? Or are we all the same?
Don't you prefer to be Different?
Doesn't your soul cry out for it?
Maybe it just happens. It happens I am Different.
It happens you are not. If you are not Different then you are the same.
The same as everyone else?
Then I must be  wrong because I am Different?
I am Different! Therefore I am wrong! Right?
You would feel better if I wore more like you.
I can't be more like....But I am exactly like you.
In every way I am just as unique as you.


I'm comfortable with my insanity, at least. I can live with it. I flaunt it. Can you live with yours?
I'm used to it and know it well, we've been together for a long, long time.
I'm not afraid of it, we co-habitat extremely well, it fits, it's mine.
It is part of me like the skin I wear, it's always with me.
No one will ever understand me, I accept that. Not everyone will accept me, I understand. My craziness is at times a friend, other times an enemy. Angles keep me with reach, my demons keep from being bored.
My head runs over with activity, it literally almost never shuts off.
Insomnia has me in is its rein. It is isn't going anywhere.
I've learned how to take to advantage of it.
It's a part of me also. It's mine. It isn't going anywhere.
I'll never be free but I am the freest soul I know. I'm captured, but I'm the butterfly. If you walk away with a though to my insanity. I hope you smile I'm not normal, but I'm fine. I hear a waterfall of laughter of all around me. I'm good company, It's mine. It's my insanity.

Am I real?

I never meant to come on so strong
I never meant that you were wrong
Just sometimes it's so hard to speak
Straight from the heart, I feel so weak.

My words don't flow as others will
I hide behind this wall so real.
I speak at times without my mind.
Take risks of losing the truly kind.

I fear what most have come to see.
They're braver than I'll ever be.
Trust is but a heavy load To me a long and scary road

Should I reveal my heart to thee?
Remain a stranger, a mystery?
Reach a stronger, a mystery?
Reach out to you with soulful desire?

Give me a certain power?

For should I be who you choose?
And must accept who's in the shoes.
Your key to leave if not in my...
But within our hearts as an entity.

Now I must ask
Once you've touched my heart
Will you close the door?
Tear me apart?

All these leave me afraid
for many times my heart was paid
Not to see a bitter cold
For with my "dream" will I grown old

I need one who can sense the "whole"
Go beyond the surface of my soul.
To know that life's not what we see

Yet more, what it can truly be

For am I real to you, you ask of me?
Though I am in your dream
With a need to be free.

Not free from commitment
Nor bonds of devotion.....
Though free to show
My true self and emotions

No comments:

Post a Comment


Where my inspiration comes from

A Recycled-Dad with Bipolar & Parkinson's, reflections on fathering and family life and other stuff thrown in'll love my Soap Box Rants

Blog with Integrity\\ Auhor Lupe Picazo

Why I call myself a Recycled Dad

I call myself a Recycled Dad because of the struggles with remarriage and being a step-parent and weekend dad. This is also about my life living with bipolar and how it affects me personally, my family and my job. It also reflects on the grace God has poured out on me throughout recovery from alcohol and an eating disorder. Recycled Dad is about my reflections on the wisdom God teaches daily on fatherhood and being a better husband in spite of being bipolar.

Please feel free to leave comments. I welcome them