Insomnia

By Conrad Pierce

Thought I was dead long ago, how could I know- dreams never come.
Dreams may be the reality, reality no longer real- I do not feel.
Textures yes, stories no- it's all a dream, waking to sleep.
Answers no, questions yes- puzzle or maze, both a craze.
Layers leveling, floors falling- who's that, somebody calling?
Telephones not here, never was- I swear I heard a buzz.
Maybe somebody once, but never again- deeper I descend.
Tape recorder might work, but tape itself can't mend.
End sequence.

Three

By Conrad Pierce

Once you were a bright star.
Twice you were fallen- somewhere afar.

Once a light bringer and comedic thinker.
Twice a night lingerer and slumly slinker.

Once given a word which transformed you for a third.
Twice given a lie which transgressed you from your herd.

Once stolen away- a captive inside the asomatous war.
Twice rescued from hostile hands, astringed- no more.

Once recklessly abound through their whispering sound.
Twice a thunderous stroke took you out of the bind.

Now a numberless game intertwined- thoughts of the first,
thoughts of the second- both now unwind.

Final gambit hands entwine, brain waves now decline,
Spiritual scales off the rictor, you're finally fine.

Home at last- no more incline for a star that is mine.

*In dedication to my cousin Gabe Droptiny

Folly

By Conrad Pierce

Deeper with each passing day
Once merely a hair strand thick
It now seeps quintessence out into the air
Introducing a new train of digression,
the cut instead grows- renouncing all repair
Gaping further the man loses touch,
all his cuts now doing so- he now sees reality as such
Death consumes him for life is merely a transition,
in which he's left to linger.
Sometimes wishing his reality was as it should be
he then remembers life is full of despair
His life as the cut once was, merely a hair.
The only thing left is to watch the cuts gape, to cut back and stair.

(Old one I found written 2-5-09...4+years ago)