Treasure Island

James Darwin Smith II

(10/6/74 / San Diego, CA)

When an Insomniac Experiment Goes Madly Awry

Like a vile sickened mad scientist
Words become concocted
In a sullen kind of way
Experimenting ever so woefully engaging
As the muse becomes illusive
Buried deeply in a self-intoxicating mental grave
Preying on thoughts ever so unbridled
As the mind becomes the enemy
On a long long insomniac night
Drawn out for eyes to welcome in
As words become impaled by their own creators dismay

The creator tries to create
Blocks they get in the way
Words do not want to come out and play
Neither does the images that stand tall with them
So all gets jumbled
Perhaps making no sense
Trivial to the eyes of the beholder
Holding onto confusion
Looking for a subliminal illusion
So much for basic thoughts
Watch as the box burns away

And then everything clicks
A new adventure begins
Limits are never a creator’s friend
Innovation beyond the end
No plain site in view
Dimensions find refuge
In a multi universe of one’s confusion
Expressing everything at will
No matter the goings on
Chopping blocks one experiment at a time
All with natural implications
Anointed by the solace that is chosen
To cure the madness all away
That is the idea anyways

With ideas become growth
Flowing wherever it can
In sleepy eyes awakening
To that for which could never slumber in

Not everything has to make sense
Gliding beyond a dream’s comprehension
In the great adventure of imagination itself
Where all becomes a work in progress
By that for which waits patiently
In the waking hours of an expression’s delirium
For its ok to be mad because happiness comes prepared

This project is now over
A monster has been created
Will the mad scientist’s next journey be ill prepared?

Submitted: Thursday, September 19, 2013
Edited: Thursday, September 19, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Written on 9/19/13

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