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November 22,2004

~ ~ Poems from the Manic Files ~ ~



Welcome to my nightmare. Join me upon Mr. Toad's wild ride through Wonderland. You will soon become ensconed between a rock and a hard place while traveling at 100 miles an hour. Be warned: you have no brakes. There is no where else for you to go. Nor can you disembark while on this ride. Please fasten your seat belts. You do not want to get thrown out of your minds.



Aliced through the Looking Glass

I ride a rollercoaster
through wonderland
each scene so quick
so surreal, I cannot
quite manage to pick
out its elements.

Shadows flash by me
images of your mind
lost somewhere
in the middle of the Mad Hatter's
teaparty. Did you forget
to come back, return
from a surreal land?

A nightmare ride
through some type of hell
flashes by me
one hundred miles an hour.
I hear him beside me
repeating repeating repeating
three times everything he says.
And then he stammers
when I stare at him incredulous:
what what what??
with a jolt it goes on
and the ride continues

We are on a ride
through Wonderland
crashing through
the looking glass,
a mirror reflecting to us
the life we once had.
Everything reflected but every bit
is backwards, inversed, reversed
the closer we get to the memory.
We cannot quite touch the reality
as it once was.

Then we crash again
through that looking glass
no mirror, now, but
a shattered telescope lens.
We are splintered by shards
of cold glass, by sharp reflections
of inverted, enlarged images.

I am securing the perimeter
he tells me
repeating himself incessantly,
I am securing the perimeter from
thieves, home invaders, rapists,
then goes outside to look for them.
None of them would dare
come near an insane man
in military mode.
I am, oddly, safe
with an imbalanced man
who alternately threatens
to kill anyone who crosses
his imaginary fortress
or to choke me if I stop him.

The looking glass ride continues.
With a jolt,
I crash through the telescoping mirror
a second time.
It makes me light-headed.
I am blinded
by light reflecting
on a million pieces of glass.
There is the white queen
and her delusions.
I turn my head
and there is the red queen
giving instructions in riddles.
She says run but I cannot.
I am riding a rigged car
that crashes through out of focus
telescoping mirrors.

His eyes are wide
flooded with many thoughts
he cannot stop,
like our ride
through chessboard hells
where queens babble nonsense
and kings are indecisive.
He picks one thought
to express, opens his mouth wide
Aahhh, aahhh, aahhh,
then babbles in red queen-ese.
It is worse than following a rabbit,
falling into its hole in the ground,
then watching Wonderland's parade
passing by in technicolor.

I shiver as I realize:
this is my life.



Crazy Man Blues


I am trying to forget this thing
this losing of one's sanity
amidst the chaos.

I try to forget as I walk around
college 20 year olds
oblivious to life's insanities.
Their only concern is for tests
testing testing testing
of their knowledge,
a test only of memory.

Memory returns me to my hang-out
of 20 years ago:
the Nugget, campus bar and grill
now drastically different.
Lighter, bigger, airier it is
with a raised stage
and reflective ceiling above it.
There are less pinball machines,
now behind a glass partition
along with video games
we never had before.
Only one pool table amazes me.
What happened to fooseball games
and the screams and yells
as if it were a live match?

That glass partition separates
game machines from loud TV movies.
Ah yes, TV.
A Jim Carrey movie reminds me
of what I came here to forget.
He plays the crazy man
he mirrors my crazy man blues
the crazy man on TV mirrors
the crazy man my husband has become.
Or does he?

My mate is not himself.
He is medicated
to some semblance of sanity,
a mere resemblance of himself.
Memories of how he was
prick my mind like a 1,000 stick pins:
each one is a separate memory
stabbing me one after the other.
To be struck by lightning would be better.

"I tell you once, I tell you twice,
I tell you thrice."
Then he states his point.
Is there a point? Yes.
No. He changes his mind.
He goes one way
then turns around.
Round and round he goes.
Where he'll stop, I'll never know.
My nerves go on a rollercoaster ride
along with what logic he attempts.

I go back home from school.
He's back home from confinement,
finally. But he's too erratic to rationalize
and too irrational to realize.
After days of travel
through Wonderland,
I pick up the pieces of his mind
he had left scattered
all through the house
before he was committed against his will.

With each piece I find,
my heart cracks wide open.
I remember how
he used to be:
so efficient, so careful.
Red shards splinter from my heart,
its chambers shatter apart.
I am rent in half,
torn from one whole.
I fall into a rabbit hole
enter Alice's Wonderland
unwillingly,
just like his mind
that was severed from his soul.




Mr. Toad's wild ride has ended.
You may now unfasten your seat belts and attempt to exit.
Please leave to your left, as there are no rights here.
You will only go around in circles and re-enter the ride.
Upon disembarking, you will be slightly disoriented.
Please watch that first step.
You may be looking through two eyezzs.
Hope you had an exciting ride.
Thank you for coming.