I Am Old Frustrated Thought
I am old frustrated thought.
I look into my once eagle eyes
and find them dim before my dead mother.
I see through clouded egg whites with days
passing by like fog feathers.
I trip over old experiences and expressions,
try hard to suppress them or revisit them;
I’m a fool in my damn recollections,
not knowing what to keep and what to toss out-
but the dreams flow like white flour and deceive
me till they capture the nightmare of the past images
in a black blanket wrapped up
and wake me before my psychiatrist.
I only see this nut once every three months.
It is at times like these I know not where I walk
or venture. I trip over my piety and spill my coffee cup.
I seek sanctuary in the common place of my nowhere life.
Solid footing is a struggle in the sock of depression.
It is here the days pass and the years slip like ice cubes.
Michael Lee Johnson is a poet and freelance writer from Itasca, Illinois. He has a new poetry chapbook with pictures, titled "From Which Place the Morning Rises," and a new photo version of "The Lost American: from Exile to Freedom." Michael also has 2 previous chapbooks and has been published in over 22 countries. He is editor/publisher of four poetry sites, which can be found at his Web site: http://poetryman.mysite.com. All of his books are now available on Amazon.com and Borders. Check him out on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ih5WJrjqQ18.
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