Paranoid Poems

The daily visit of the Sweeper,
Pushing the cart with dust bins.....
What a welcome sight;
Soon the garbage;
...

Everybody says I'm paranoid they all think I'm crazy
They all smile to my face but they'd like to see me die
...

It‘s crazy to think one could describe them—
Calling on reason, fantasy, memory, eves and ears—
As though they were all alike any more
...

Why do people take delight in nurturing
all things negative, in propagating every
damning word that was said to them
in confidence?
...

Pain in my feet
With pincushion fingers.
Blurred double vision,
Exhaustion that lingers.
...

I am looking ahead as so many are following behind me
Everyone's hands reaching out to hurt me somehow-
I feel are manipulating my thoughts-
People looking ahead and so many following behind me
...

A sound of silence
~
Silence that distant sound
Speaks volumes of variety
...

Scary movies,
You can watch ‘em
Get scared,
Feel paranoid,
...

Why is it that one's mind can be all confusion,
With senses reeling in a blurred illusion,
One's thinking, cotton wool,
They're thinking, 'what a fool',
...

I hate schizophrenia-
Spending months in a locked ward,
Pacing up and down low piled carpeted halls
Between therapy groups, and those nothing to do weekends.
...

I loved you too much
The fault was entirely my own
...

Paranoid thoughts
of a world in greed
People trying to be better
Than the one next door
...

'The entire world already knows
That we water- boarded the prisoners'
The entire world also knows that
Our police shot the unarmed man
...

The earth, played out, seems forged with fear,
It bristles, stiffens, slowly fades
With introspection. Through the blear,
In our unease we move, bowed heads;
...

And every year
the Ghaghra changes course
turning over and over in her sleep.
...

O what a tangled web we weave
When we choose to deceive
Or to be deceived
We need to realise that we receive
...

On the wild side, she lives,
no love in her heart to give.
She walks the streets of Calgary.
Eyes protrude with deep dark circles,
...

If anyone had asked me a few months ago if I believed in paranormal activities such as ghosts, I would have, without hesitation, said 'no.' I consider myself to be a realist, a down to Earth kinda guy, which finds a plausible reason for unexplained events. Call it the law of Parsimony. I've always held with the more logical and feasible assumption. Such as 'a slight tremor knocked that book off the shelf and made it skid across the floor.' I often scoffed at strange accounts and easily reasoned the one telling the tale had quite the vivid imagination or perhaps acquired some illegal pharmaceutical that caused temporary hallucinations.

It was not until I experienced such inexplicable phenomena first hand that jabbed my very core that I began to have a paradigm shift toward the possibility of apparitions.
...

When at last you have become aware deep down yourself
and of the people whom require at last some mental health
be serviced, come to services
and you have at least one personality disorder
...

A scion marked from Old Lizzies Hand
Collar trim, with an axe potent grand
Butcher sister, to Mrs Kotche’s intellect
Calculate the sums of the souls she collects,
...

Black thoughts, paranoid plots, addiction a self crucifixion drown in anxiety
Psychosis wrapped in neurosis, obsession blanketed in depression lost sobriety
By tongue or lung out of pain art sprung, a paper scraper with a pen
He paints with blood emotion's flood, splashes of ink on a page sink, a holy amen
...

'I've listened endlessly to your injury
You wanna talk about your sores
You wanna talk about suffering
Maybe sympathy is all you're really hungry for.'
...

gasping in the void
of everything devoid
desperately paranoid
...

because
i am an old
man.
(no paradox.no paranoid.no delusion.)
...

paradox in wisdom as farm of insight out of conflict zone truth lie mirage delusion paranoid...
inside out outside in life is a journey with multiverse of light seen only by honest wisdom pounded and boated in storm of events and distilled by life experiences ups and downs and stillness amd silence of depth through awareness and concentrated light.
...

Deborah thinks I'm paranoid but let me give my theory a whirl
I believe we must be very weary of our little friend the squirrel.

Here's an example: when Deborah and I walk in the morning there's a squirrel in every tree…and I can't help but get the feeling that they're all watching me.
...

These troubled years hang Above me like icicles. My soul's madness has Collided with the purely Functional: O these Deep psychic scars are star- crossed; So screwed up! Too much In the way of paranoid Consciousness; too much In the way of guilt... regret.
...

People never know who they're hurting nor why.
And yet the fastest justification somebody shoves
in your ears is, "But it's not hurting anybody. I should
get to do whatever I want to do."
...

Imagine a world around you
As your thoughts surround
Like a crowd
Of all those strange people
...

I was paranoid she was thoughtful
Baptized me again, revealed everything ain't cruel
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I become direful but he is by my side
...