Kevin Schaller Poems

Genius is seen as a disease;
dreaded like the sting of bees,
by those whose attitude is snooty,
by those who cannot see its beauty.
...

You touch your head
and feel the chillness,
you think you're dead
and fear the illness.
...

Decided to exclude myself,
to stay away from all the people
that mistake writing at my shelf
for being a total creeple.
...

I sit there and write,
never realize it's night.
Gazing at my clock
would cause a mental block.
...

It's the predatory stare
that causes the scare,
the reflection in the eye,
in which you see yourself die.
...

I had this urge
to take this purge,
I mixed it into water,
then served it to my daughter.
...