It rises and sets
It runs and it dries
It falls and it stops
It blooms and it fades
It comes and goes
And I am none the better for it
(Source: online)
I see people’s faces
And their souls hiding under their skins
Afraid to show themselves
For what they really are
Afraid to show the darkness in them
Afraid to admit to their monstrosity
Afraid to show what light they have
Afraid to stand up for right
I tickle pleasantly by their hopes
I smile softly at their sincere frailties
I smell the stench of their darkness
I twitch curiously at their pride
I laugh like a schizo-manic “madman”
Totally almost exaggeratingly fascinated
By the little details of peoples’ actions
Like pawns making curious moves on the chessboard
And I am always amused
By the limits of our strengths and knowledge
Despite our acting like we are more than THIS
I am always there seeing all
I span the traditions of ages and places
I see into the future
And I’m not even psychedelic or grandiose
I live for them all
I blow their trumpets -rusty and all
It’s never about me
From when the sun rises all day till it sets
When the river runs till it dries next season
Both under the rain and when showers cease
In the season when flowers fade all through autumn
From the day the human came on scene till (s)he goes
I see them all and I speak to them all
Lurking in their very shadows…
In the shade of harmless mischief….
With my flint and stone tablet
Or my stylus and electronic tablet.
Immortalized!
I Feel Shadows 
LOL, suffering from delusions of grandeur once again, are we doc?
Not to worry, I like you better as the crazy deranged ghostwriter.
U’r Poe-esque alter ego is darker than doomsday. Keep enchanting us
with your undead words, never let us rest-in-peace.
Doc, you slay me… naughty barbarian… hahaha.
Seriously this poem is quite good, you should consider submitting it
for publication. Cheers my lovely loon. 😆
Maddey!!!! Hahaha! I am but a mere writer in his moods.
Oh, please, not another comment on my cynicism. Ha! I hope to hack away all the way. Kindda like that, though I know not how a doctor can also be a naughty barbarian. Double honours!
Glad you enjoyed it, sweet Mad-dey!
Write on, forever. But harmless, really? My madness engorges my writing as it does not my life, as though this is an outlet for black black things that slither and occasionally sing. No harm? There is only harm! But it is the harm of stretching scar tissue until the skin is pretty and perhaps there is some substance underneath it too. In the end, the monkey will have the truth of it Doc.
Hehe. When you put it like that, there really is harm in writing. But, aptly put again -towards a good end.
To me, I do it like a little fun game at times. Maybe like the monkey having a ride and just reeling…
For your sake, I hope your madness rages all the more.
Without rage, there is no consequence. Without consequence, there is no truth. And without truth, worse of all, there is no change. Rage hard and dream hard, I say.
Ha! And I forgot your blog truth. Rage hard, sire! At least if you don’t rage in person or manner of artistic expression, let the truth of the contents of your art themselves (the words) rage.
I have to keep my soul under my skin… I can’t wear it around like a backpack. eeewwww
You are a pawn in this game either way. Hehehe. The only way out is to not have a soul.
I’m working on it.
Doc, I love it when you write from His perspective. I do believe He’s tickled by our hopes, since they’re rarely concerning Him, and I think He smells our darkness, but I really think He does more than just twitch at our pride! I think it probably curdles His stomach! so go chisle away, and make His day! He loves it when you spill the beans!! 🙂
Not surprising you caught on the alternative meaning. It was actually a double. The writer character might as well have been myself.
Oh, I hope to always spill… hoping the plant will grow high to the skies for all to see unmistakably.
you spill like a beautiful waterfall Doc!! 🙂
Hahaha. Great to hear. Nice having you around Shardy.