I am an epileptic schizophrenic

with the magnetic charm

of a younger Tom Selleck;

 

I am a rampaging bafoon

who jumps before he leaps

to his impending—

 

Doom, Doctor Doom, he who looms

in his throne room who

looks through small holes in his scowling eye;

 

I— I am a Jedi knight.

 

I am who I want to be,

I say what I think and what I see,

though sometimes my words

 

are like a knife penetrating the skin

to deliver a piercing sting

and I am sorry if my words are sharp instead of blunt.

 

Words, thoughts, voices

jump around my synapses like mad monkeys

in a cage, shoveling manure with their rough hands

 

and catapulting them with their elbows

like a child throwing around food at lunch—

provoked with the simple opened juice carton

 

spilling on the sandwich (which was made

with Boar’s Head fresh cold cuts, that his mother

prepared for him with love as he walked out the door)

 

that he was looking forward to the whole day,

like Moses leading the weary people of Jerusalem through

scorching deserts and parting seas who were praying

 

to God that they reach the Promised land, and with that

he launched his ruined lunch at

the ungrateful bastard with great fury and content

 

inciting a nuclear war between nations,

a war that not one single person shall emerge

victorious in the fallout of ketchup-ed bodies.

 

I see planes, I see helicopters with news reporters

watching this sight of filthy students and furious teachers,

but I feel bad for the hard-working janitors

 

who will have to clean up this mess

and salvage what’s left in the fallout

and return home to their cramped houses

 

and empty fridges to be greeted

by smiling children and loving wives or husbands,

gathering to warm their cold feet at night;

 

all thankful to be home, to be alive

to be shielded from God’s wrath under this tin roof

and thankful that they are not alone.

 

I look up and I see a train

and people boarding and awaiting

to reach the bombarding might

 

of the man with the iron fists

launching himself at the speeding

locomotive on the train tracks.

 

i look up and i see the stars and the moon

in the middle of the day;

I look up and I see the sun.

 

I see. 

 

I see the world

through a kaleidoscope—shifting and warping

everything these eyes may see

 

and I reach out before me to feel

the tangible colors, the tangible paint,

the tangible ink that my brain uses

 

to print out, in a coherent form of expression

and thought, what I see with these unfiltered eyes.

I see; and I smile.

 

But I know my heart can't take it all,

my eyes can't have it all,

and that I would have to share,

 

So I built a dam to prevent

the crushing weight of this world

from drowning me in its brilliance,

 

because I am raw energy like the Force,

because it flows through me and through you

and must be controlled and used correctly.

 

I have thoughts in my head like

coffee beans, solid hard and a choking hazard,

and the filter paper smoothens it out

into a a river of caffeine.

 

I gaze into the distance,

looking for a new world to conquer.