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Sometimes I wonder.
I feel I'm going
two kinds of crazy.

the first is
ordinary madness

the second is
extraordinary insanity.

Yet somehow, they mix into a great fog.
Impenetrable.

They'll say, She's come undone.
Slowly unraveled,
like an old knit sweater
each thread floating up
to dissolve in the sky
or is it the sea? one's just a bit wetter

It happened slowly.
Such a shame.
Like the frog that was boiled;
she hopped out a bit too late.
one word at a time
slipped from her grasp
like that one tiny eggshell taunting
"TORO! TORO!"
can't grab a word by its horns.

I ad lib, substituting a synonym.

I snap out of the sky(ocean)
regrounding myself.

The madness is perhaps early Alzheimer's.
I'm too young to grow old.

The insanity feels more like I'm trapped
but outside my head.
A balloon a careless child let go of.
I drift
dream.
wonder.    
unraveling        
continuously.          

I think my problem is that
I don't believe in reality anymore.

How do I know England exists?
How do I know we landed on the moon?
How do I know that my friend is real?
How do I know I'm not dreaming?
How do I know I'm not someone else's dream?

Once you think about it-
you realize
You don't know - and you can't prove-
Anything

I suppose that's why I believe in God.
He grounds me.

Nothing else makes sense.
Thanks to Muse for the title.
You want to know how to rule the world?
You want my recipe for total *******?
Fine. I'll spill.

1 cup butter
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar.
Mix till creamy.

Two large eggs.
1 teaspoon vanilla- real, none of this "imitation" garbage
1 teaspoon almond extract
Beat in well

2&1/4 cup of flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
Fold in.
Don't mix too much or they'll be tough.

Stir in an entire bag of chocolate chips.
Add nuts if you want.

Bake at 375 for 10 minutes for each pan.

Food isn't just the way to a man's heart.

People will do anything for a cookie.
This is a legitimate recipe from Tollhouse. It produces reactions of, "Oh my God, you made *more* cookies?! We love you so much! umm.....these are so good!!!"
Pounding
pounding
pounding
i feel
the bass
pounding
to my core
my center
my heart
my soul
and the music
superfluous
unspecific
and beautiful
flowing
through me
my blood
my veins
i am bass
i am music
i am rhythm
i am dance
**I AM
I love words
for their meanings
their woven tapestries
but also
for their taste.

Tell me, when was the last time you tasted a word
as sweet as strawberry shortcake
or bitter as dark hot coffee?
try it.
remember diction, now.

loquacious
refrigerator
nefarious
malevolent
tinkerbell


­feel the 'q' like a potato chip
(crunch)
the 'f' like a wind
(swooping through)
the 'b' like a kiss
(so quiet)

Gives new meaning to the age-old rhyme:
Some books should be tasted,
others devoured,
but only a few should be chewed and digested thoroughly.
Tell me your favorite words
They fly through the air- notes-
Better than birds ever could
Humming and Hovering and Harmonizing

Music is everything
beautiful
powerful
tender
terrifying
comforting
It is the universal language.

Can I tell you a secret?

I can't write it. 
I could whirl off a thousand songs
-tickling the ivories til they gleam-
Somehow it continually and eternally eludes me.

That's why I write poetry.

Poetry is a song without music. 
Sometimes beautiful.
But a song without music is like a body without a soul.

And a picture may be worth a thousand words,
but music is worth a thousand pictures.
I could write a novel about a
single Beethoven chord.
So I'll keep plunking, 
plunking, 
plunking
away
Trying to describe
the music.            
     within                my soul.

Because (I'm sure every potential artist feels this way) I know my music could stir souls
heal hearts
beautify and cleanse the world

And baby
  If I could write you a song to make you fall in   love I would already have you under my arm.
The last line is from Mike Posnee's Cooler Than Me
If you could only see
One color
of the rainbow and beyond
What- how could you decide?
Red
 anger, love, elmo and stop signs
 i'd give you roses - not just a dozen- a flower shop full
Orange
 fruit, sherbet, traffic cones and tigers
 i could watch a billion sunsets- if you would just hold my hand?
Yellow
 lemonade, fear, highlighters and dandelions
 you are my sunshine, my only sunshine
Green
 luck, mint, leprechauns, and grass
 i'm envious of her, though her significance is debatable
Blue
 rain, robin eggs, sky, and oceans
 could i cry with you? i'm still not sure.
Purple
 mountains, shadows, lilacs and royalty
i'll bake you a mulberry pie, dripping with juice and made with love- that eternal 'secret' ingredient

As for me, I'd choose brown.
Brown for honest earth, for rich dark chocolate, for tall reaching trees, and for coffee dark as night, hot as hell, strong as love.

For your smooth skin, warm and vibrant.
An inch away from mine, I wonder what it would feel like to kiss you, soft and sweet.

But I look away, laugh with my friend, watch the black evening outside.

And sigh.
What's your color?
The weather
it's sobbing, but not really.
My heart
it's trembling, really.
Cause I look,
and sometimes I see
but sometimes I don't.
So I wonder as I look her,
Fishnets, mascara and hair 
like silk 
(I must admit to envy).
And I do see
Your hat- hers now, if only momentarily
(I must confess to jealousy)
You make it delicious.
And I ponder and hash and squirm about 
This **** Symbology. 
I hover on knife's edge and ponder this to:
Shall I fall
         jump
         or tightrope?
Maybe I'll astonish and grow wings.
Such marvelosity.
(I'm feeling whimsical- practically bubbly
And yet, still morose).
And so the weather cries
And so, too, my heart.

— The End —