An Apology (Well, Not Really. Not Even Much of an Explanation)

So, yeah... nothing for months, and then a crappy song and two really weak poems. It's been one of those kinds of... what's the word for a period of time longer than a month but shorter than a year? "season"? It's been one of those kinds of seasons. Maybe? Regardless, I find myself desiring to drop bits and pieces of my nonsense once more into the waiting receptacle that is this blog, from which cybernetic plumbing it is flushed into the sewers of your minds. Telecrapathy, if you will, though I for one wouldn't, and really, why would you? But here we are with our predetermined roles to play, I write this drivel, and you read it, though, again, I really wouldn't (read it, that is. Although by now you're wishing I wouldn't write it, either). Alright, more tomorrow, or next week, or next season...

a haiku

body's chemistry
demons devouring my soul
damn serotonin

The Limerick of the Cowardly Golem

There once was a golem of wet clay,
who was skilled in all forms of melee.
But things weren't quite right,
when he got in a fight,
he would collapse and just roll away.

(Note: while Gumby is, arguably, a clay golem, this poem is not about him. He is brave, and I have nothing but the utmost respect for him. I'm thinking of something more like a D&D golem, only, you know, more cowardly.)

prozac puppet

i've got my act together
i'm as peachy as can be
since i've been on prozac
there's been nothing much to see

i have got a ready smile
and a quick and easy grin
too bad it's all a lie
there's just nothing left within

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

i used to cry through the night
when i couldn't sleep at all
now if it's after nine
i won't even hear your call

i never would have thought that
it could ever be like this
that being a real boy
is a thing that i could miss

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

bridge:
well i don't feel love
and i don't feel pain
all of my "feelings"
are just thoughts in my brain
and i don't feel hope
i don't feel despair
yeah i don't feel a thing
and i really don't care
because

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

if there ever comes a day
when my heart feels as before
pinocchio will die
and my soul will live once more
but until then

chorus:
i'm just a prozac puppet
my affects are all lies
i'm just a zombie actor
a dead man in disguise

(copyright 2013, Moon Jester Radio, a division of Anarchic Syllogisms Unlimited)