Index 
Poems I and II
| (written during or just after my first hospitilization for "mental" issues) | ||
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POEM I The double image of eternity Make number nine reverberate In the echo chamber of my mind. The small cat appears as a giant In a world of gigantic atoms Spread on a plane of infinitesibly Small entities. Time speeds through a confusion Of molasses that rapidly Passes my senses as slow Black ink defuses in an Ocean of syrup. My pencil delicately smashes My hand creating a force Of immeasurable heaviness Than smashes my soul. My mind wanders on Good Nights And drifts into clouds of Immeasurable nothingness. Reality eludes my sense perceptions But holds my knowledge in a Vice of actuality that is Unbearably unreal. Blue surrounds brown And as brown we are but a dot In the sea of ten billion dots. Watch bands and French cuffs Covering the hair that surrounds My ugliness protect me From glaring eyes that Search for excuses to condemn. |
POEM II Times that tell nothing. Cover the pages of knowledge Upon which we base our Conception of what we are in A world where what we are Has no meaning. Reflections of what I think I see Dominate my thoughts and color My picture of what is really not. A global electron in an orbit That signifies nothing In an infinitesibly small Gargantuan realm of existence. In the experience that I know Whirling through infinity Stagnated in motionlessness Stripes and angles decorate My body, covering whatever I may be to the god of Whatever I am. War is a virtue in a world Where war is a sin. Fur provides warmth and I find Myself without fur or love, So I must face a cold world as a Naked body, exposed to the Heat of a freezing existence. Double lights torturing my tortured Mind of alcoholic intoxication, So I write only what I think And not what I know. |
East is going west and West is going east Meeting in a tunnel of Irreversible chaos that Answers all questions that Will never be asked. God is dead and in death He lives in the lives of all Knowledgeable minds that Know nothing. My ashtray is full, so I think I will trade my life in for A new cigarette that will Fill my empty ashtrays. I think I will die so that I can find out what I am All about in this death That I call life. Mr. Scott Sinnock New Castle, Indiana 47362 A world in a sphere Of absolute nothingness. |