Sanity Has Lost Its Mind Poem by Mark Pollins

Head on the pillow.
Head on the floor.
Head under the ground.

Clouds in the blue sky.
Clouds blocking the roads.
Clouds rambling through my brain.

Hope is found in the child’s playfulness.
Hope is ground down with the years.
Hopelessness remains.

Love is endless.
Love solves all the problems.
First touch – beginning of the end.

I shall distance pain.
I shall distance hurt.
Pain, hurt will drown me.

Death is driven further away with every year beyond the age of 21.
Death draws closer with every minute beyond the age of 21.
Death is all around.


The telephone connects us with the hearts of our loved ones.
The telephone lines are frequently too silent.
The telephone wires strangle any attempt at saying the truth.

Silence is the ultra-sensitive person’s last hide-out.
Silence is a popular commodity.
Silence can obliterate any hint of vitality.

Life is a mighty river.
Life is the essence.
The stream is dammed.
The essential is hazy.

I really want to see you.
I really want to go to bed with you.
What are you doing here?

Sanity ensures our existence.
Sanity is sweeter than any ‘ol hamburger from McDonald’s.
Sanity has lost its mind.

The strong prevail.
The strong don’t give up easily.
The strong, in their heart of hearts are:
Bent, buckled, smashed, mashed, crushed, broken beyond repair.











Written Jerusalem 02.01.03

Copyright Mark Pollins 2007