Pull the wool over the eyes

Nothing is as it seems,

this isn’t really me, just like that isn’t really you.

Just foolish impulses of thought mimicking the moment.

Another sheep amongst sheep, sure that’ll work –

and its confounding that nothing is better when trying to hide.

We’re empty responses to void beings that we don’t actually know –

I’m sorry but we’ve mistaken each other for someone else,

and it’s probably, partly our own faults.

The regret now though,

for going with the flow and blending in and baying away together,

like every other day,

cause sure enough I’ve convinced them,

that I’m one of them.

None better,

and to some probably less than,

a sheep with no wool –

and thus a problem of practicality thats pulling at my mentality

why must I be drawn into immature faculty’s?

And now that I am here how do I rectify these fallacies!

How do I commucate that you don’t get me,

and what you see, what you think is me, really isn’t.

I wish to make amends by simply starting again

and this time by not pretending to just be as the rest.

Sheep are sheep and then there are the shepherds,

not to be in with the heard, but at the head of it.

Ron Bergquist 

May 21 2012

1:29 am 

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Above it All

leave out the extra bits,

falling from the limbs

of trees so high,

swaying to and fro and claiming freedom,

while looking down

on the roots of the problems;

answers only bringing frustration.

why grow so tall to see over all?

and as acorns fall

ponder,

what it was that was wondered,

and perhaps then, not have blundered.

Can’t catch the extra bits snipped,

too busy reaching for the sky.

 

Ron Bergquist

May 20, 2012

12:01 am  

Worms

Worm mass wriggles and pulsates together

Slither and squirm , wriggle, wriggle.

Decaying underneath is the sustenance

For their wormy dance, hypnotic

Encaptivavating, motivating vomiting

Sensation, looking at the worm mass vibration,

 

11:49 pm

May 17th

 

change it

No matter how it rolls – it rolls and life go on

and on and all that matters is the songs we play,

sway, sway too and bringing me you,

it’s coming true, true  – the future moves to

present, present – presents now how to

embrace the face of space to come

come, it’ll all come together and be better

better.

1:40 pm 

 

 

Resuscitation

Give me a little beat and my heart starts to pump

And unf – i feel the umpff that drives me to the rhythm

Man how I’ve missed ‘em, days where it’s just me,

I can jive my body ‘n feel free finally as I dream

 

Of what can be – free me, free me – see me.

Come to me as I stride this strut

Ride the ridge of this old rut

And bust out over the top

Without a thought where to stop.

 

Cause I’ve got to get far away from fears

Of these past few years; the lack of peers

The torrents of tears- the cases of beers

Every toke and foul joke, every other bloke

Who thinks they’re my friend but

Where are they in the end?

And it’s time I begin again.

 

Give me a street, let me pace my feet

And I’ll walk what I talk and become

More than a spot pissed in the dirt like a

Dog trying to leave his mark – bark,

 

I got the spark to ignite light in the darkest of darks

but my own heart is dark and pulls itself apart

and it’s a struggle just to juggle the simplicities

of working at Wendy’s and thinking of my baby

who’s become a little boy; I’m employed

by minimal wage morons N I got my hate on

for dismal peons who should be gone outa my life

tired of all the drama and strife.

 

I’d like to say I feel like I can rest but this is just a test

To excite me to the real stuff of what it really means to be tough;

to take all this shit and beat it ,

swallow it down and spit it out and act like

None of it ever phased me, maybe, maybe

Then I’ll begin again.

 

Ron Bergquist

May 16th 2012

8:35 pm