Sanpixee The Alien: Numb
Please wake my brain up.
Please wake my brain up.
I am so numb right now, no home, no bonds, no feeling.
My main faith is in the tactile. My faith is in caresses, these keys I feel between my fingertips.
My faith lays in the transient, the illusion of time, the illusion of like, the illusion of love.
My faith lays in unconditional love, and that love is in 5 people.
And if God is unconditional love then I know God and I feel him and I know the bliss of a connection
Of a powerful support, an encapsulation that keeps me suspended when I would otherwise collapse.
So this new numb lay in the yearning for part of this transience to remain fixed
To debunk my own theory that only unconditional love is permanent
And that other love loyalty and support can coexist alongside the pillars and standards of unconditional love in my life.
Until then, I’ll remain numb… I guess.
Space
I need my space
I need my love
I need and constructive way to express and accept love at the same time I express my need my space
Space, Space like the distance between Hi, I’m home and Dinner is Ready
Space between waking up and going down into the subway
Space between boarding a plane and carrying on a conversation
Space between work and friends
Space is love to me, to give me my space is to love me
To come into my space is to punish me
To question my space is to upset me.
I like my space but I love you
My space is my biggest compromise.
Time in my space is my love to you.
My Space and My Love are intertwined
Truths
I am scared, afraid, panic attack prone
anxiety prone, wound up, awake
I am so awake I barely blink, so awake I feel everything and nothing
Feel sad, bitter, nervous, happy, passionate, anxious
And I am am wound
I am wound so tight I feel every nerve vibrating, each neuron firing
not at the same time, but consecutively, one by one by one by one by one
Each one passing a message to the other
In a strange inner being message of chinese telephone,
Each communicating to the other on an individual level, with its own tone and vernacular
Some whispering some shouting, all distorting the message in their own way
Clouded by emotion
My message gets lost and misunderstood
The last neuron shouts out a declarative sentence
Nonsensical and irrelevant
My message is lost
And my anxiety begins once more
This is how I feel every day on the hour – trying to get out a message to have it distorted and convoluted, but powerless to translate it, too late is catching the confusion to stem the tide of miscommunication.
Sanpixee The Alien: Don’t Call After a Date
Scccccccccccrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmm
IF I could scream
if I could scream
And the words that came from that scream would be daggers with burning bright orange tips
I would direct my scream, I would focus my scream, I would channel it
To the assholes who don’t call a woman after a great date
Who throw her into a paranoia where she steps out of her rightful mind, hears phantom phone rings, checks her inbox, her voicemal inbox, her facebook, her modem… call the internet company to ask if everything’s okay…
Y’know cause bad connections happen
One phone call, the dialing of 7 digits, the sitting through one ring, then two rings, then three….
Whats the worst that could happen? huh? voicemail? line disconnected? child #2 of a total of 6 answers with spongebob playing on the tv in the background
Fucking grow some balls and call the woman
The longer you wait the more she turns into a werewolf – hypersensitive to sight, smell and touch
Fading more and more from the world of the sane – wild eyes, sitting alert, erratic speech…
Questions herself, checks her poise, second guesses her beauty
Oh this man, you confused man – if you’re not gonna call..
Then don’t ask her out, keep it moving
Don’t ask her out
At all.
Sanpixee The Alien: Poet?
I don’t feel like being a poet today
To write verses loaded with rhyme
Stanzas and smart meters, balanced, in time.
Kill the wordsmith inside me, please go wake the airhead
The poet needs to go away for while, in fact, the poet is dead.
The depth and this knowledge, this insight, great thought
Has been my comfort, my companion, much agony its brought
My pulsing brain keeps going, just banging against my skull
Clamouring for stimulation, I am just here waiting for the lull
The eye of the storm, the stream of consciousness on pause
Strap down my mind please unclench my mental jaws
Let loose my inside self, so trapped behind words and fiction
I want to love and breathe reality, just for a while fuck diction
So kill the poet please, lock her in a coffin
Not forever, no not forever, for this talent I am grateful
But I am so done with all of this analysis
Overthinking, overgasping, causing me social paralysis
So off I go to entomb the poet
Kicking and screaming she goes
Goodbye for now, adieu
See you not now but see you soon.
Sanpixee The Alien: Ugh and Argh
sanpixee.wordpress.com
Ugh and Argh were 2 young friends who lived inside the sewer
Ugh bitched and moaned, croaked and groaned
A more cultured Argh wanted to go by “Peter”
Argh would go to above ground by himself to drank chai at noon with lemon
He would cross his legs and spike his tea with scotch imported from Yemen
Ugh spat at Argh, thought him snooty
So he thought up a scheme to maim Argh’s booty
He crept into the garden when the sun was high
Birds had drunk their dew, done their morning fly
Ugh the wicked – his eyes grew pale with evil
His brain a-working took the sharpest needle
Planted it neatly in the garden seat
Tucked it from sight, so perfect so neat
Argh came on schedule chewing an apple
Spat out the core, hugged his Kiwi snapple
Took out his teabag and proceeded to sit
When a young hummingbird from the canopy did flit
“Beware” she said “And mind your bum..
A creature was here, he so dirty so glum
He had spat in the meadow and came over here
He looked around…ooooh he had a horrid glare
Hurry back inside and punch his snout
Search his pockets turn them out
Your eyes will widen, your teeth will gnash
When his clothes betray a hidden stash.”
She flew away and Argh did heed
Thinking the young bird a friend indeed
He did all he was told and caught such fury
He convened the forest animals to form a jury
As to what to do with his former friend
And now this ditty must come to an end
Any ideas? A reply do send.
sanpixee.wordpress.com
Sanpixee The Alien: WordPress
I am here pressing out some words,
Ironing under the cuff
Dusting off hyperbole
Speaking in the buff
Alliterating alliterations
Squishing together nouns and verbs
Finding what pairs well with articles
Not trying nothing grammatic wrong
Finding what works on paper
Rolls off my tongue
Drips off the back of my medulla
Uninfluenced by rum
Just here pressing out some words
Always excited by languages
Seeking a poet or wondrous muse
Stimulate my senses.
