I want to burn it all down
I’m not proud of it
But I must admit
I’m drawn to the destruction
Like a moth to a flame
The death-instinct deep inside
Driving down the highway
Passing the car crash
And turning my head
To see if anyone’s dead
It’s deplorable – this overwhelming urge
And I notice how it surges
And it’s like a scourge
The self-sabotage and the purge
That puts us on the verge
Of tearing everything down
I. Alienation
I’ve lost track of time too many times
What am I doing here?
No one was there to answer
The streets were so empty
And there I was again, lost
Lost and not found – the story of our lives
Trying to find purpose amid the ruins
Of late-stage American capitalism
And cycles of market collapses
So, I kept wandering
The sky was charcoal but, despite that,
It was so hot the concrete sizzled
Is this what they predicted?
There’s nowhere left to turn
Everyone else has burned
And here I am, lost again
I once wanted total control, until that day
Everything spun in a mad frenzy, and I lost my grip
On sanity – leaving me locked away
Without a say on anything and everything
Yes, this has happened many times before
And the illusion of control always surges back
I try to ignore that monster in my head
To restore my equilibrium
To reach a place that’s solid, that has a foundation
That doesn’t constantly crack
But maybe that last madness was too much
And it knocked me to the ground for good
Maybe I’ve truly lost touch
With a reality that’s wholesome and good
Since I’ve been writing more poetry, I’ve been reading more poetry lately. I’ve read some newer stuff, but I’ve also been reading many of the classics, including William Blake, T.S. Eliot, and W.B. Yeats.
I recently read an anthology of 20th century American poetry that was comprehensive regarding the poets it included. One of the poets that struck me the most was John Berryman, and the anthology included poems from his much-celebrated volume called The Dream Songs.
Continue reading “Book Review: The Dream Songs by John Berryman”
