These are ramblings from notebooks I had laying around. They make no sense, because I am usually half asleep when I write them and I just let the thoughts in my head flow. Sometimes a poem will come out but it’s not good enough to write down separately, so they are imprisoned in a notebook forever. It’s short because I just made a few selections of the pages while intoxicated.
winding through a forest thinned by expanding fields it’s stout but de inclines and declines sporadic and sneaky walk the road with fear and caution a country road which throws caution to the wind the deer tend to traipse back and forth from forest to field without any care especially in the winter when the snow packs down into the pavement im sick and tired of the sunset running away from me im sick and tired of the moon hiding behind the trees and clouds thirteen steps to the attic and god drools with face agape blood trickles into the vision as the earth begins to quake and soon frail roots crumble and whip the air. death glory! holy manger and holy love! slain on the porch lie a pile of feathers and god stumbles down for a desperate glance. hearts burst at the sight of burning gray sky and daring emotion spins the minds of cowards and fools. the sidewalk is barren except for the frost and god runs a rough tongue in the icy cracks. soap runs down into your eyes from your hair. the thing i despise most about academia and the like is the constant reassurance that the student’s health takes the utmost priority in the minds of professors this is clearly not the case should you fall behind on your schoolwork even a smidge they will descend upon you like hawks from hell you should have been practicing this section more why havent you been practicing i know youre better than this and even if they dont say it with their words they speak it with their gaze their tired gaze as they sigh and scratch their head and shake it oh! they shake their fucking heads like your devestation is the most insignificant thing in the world. i say lady my brain is made of mud on these new antipsychotics im bipolar is what they say but i dont think so oh no youre right you aint look at all bipolar i know people who are bipolar and they seem nothing like you yeah well that’s what i figured so im gonna get off these new fucking pills so i can function to your liking and go insane in my own free time. this is what they desire. dont you dare fall behind on your work dont you dare fall behind on your life and most definitely do not impose upon their life with your bullshit mental health. im being sarcastic of course of course of course and maybe even a bit too harsh after all we would do the same right right right? yes. well the world keeps on turning as i go a bit more insane nevermind the copious amounts of alcohol i consume regularly in order to a) fall asleep or to b) make my brain as numb as possible to anything or everything or you or me or god. wavering water rustles the sides of my unfinished pier waiting for me to finish its construction. i walk along it as though on a trek is this what I have become a mere husk of a man of a human being? a flag billows nearby bellowing its call to arms. i would take up arms for my country die even. but why? is it because I care so much about this land or how little I care about myself i’m nearing the end of the pier now. should I even bother finishing it instead just walk straight off into the frigid water come inside a voice whispers into my ear come inside there’s nothing for you out here i sit on my porch a cigarette lit just wait i say i’ll be there in a bit the nearby streetlight that’s all I can see and what of the concepts of subtlety and clarity and fire seeps from my eyes a dragon lives in my pond like the japanese priest once said the one with the big red nose and when the world came to watch he panicked and screamed but it was fine because the dragon rose in the eyes of every man woman and child and a gun has been in my hand many too many times silver barrel and the hammer caresses my finger like a girl i might have known a while ago i had one too many four lokos which means im not gonna finish writing tonite and all the wavelengths in my brain are wobbling and there are wires in my eyes wires in my eyes
Trenton Bebermeier is a third year student majoring in Music Performance and minoring in Japanese. He enjoys reading literature by Jack Kerouac, Charles Bukowski, Leonard Cohen, Aldous Huxley, Natsume Soseki, and Hemingway. When he is not reading or writing, he is making music and sound with whatever means currently at his disposal, as well as trying his hand in every creative medium available.
