Maxed Conception Poem by Trevor Schulte

Visions cloud my head
surpassing its very essence
Spurting forth ideas
that my mind does condense
Innovative sparks
that travel the brink of rationality
compromising knockoffs
and dodging originality
Oh how I search for the right
train of thought
as my soul deteriorates
as inspiration is overwrought
The tendency to obliterate all else,
pushing accusations off the shelf,
and leaving my art
as a reflection of myself.
Shortlived may be this joy
for it may just be a decoy
that shots of excitement deploy
but later are destroyed
Push my buttons oh concious of mine
for I will learn to fly
and on my own willed choice
I will begin to rely
Pressing on with all faith
in my own actions
content in my mind
that I'll reach satisfaction
Deep thoughts and talents
will speak the reality I make
shooting up brows, dropping mouths
as even professors shake
For the true art of the human soul
is found in the least likely place
for it is then when mastered conceptions
leave their lasting trace