Needs

Needs

These unbearable emotions,
What grips me at such inopportune moments?
The need to share of me and to be heard,
To be hated and despised if it must be, but to be heard,
To be disagreed with?
Fine, but I need to be understood.

What for I pour my heart out in this white electronic page?
Why my fingers dance and click? They ache to strike these keys!
Why do painters paint, Michelangelo chiseled rock?
How canvas turns to lady with an enigmatic grin,
And churches cover perfect stone penises with leaves,
For shame: I write; for life, how and what I want but not for me.

For you whom I have not yet met perhaps I write,
To find me in my words and tell me how and who I am; I do not know myself,
To alleviate my rat race stress and jump,
If only for a moment, into the fathomless expanse I seldom visit now,
My mind: strange but it is mine; better refuge from the cold hard world I couldn’t find, alas one feels more at home where one commands.

And at anytime perhaps I’ll feel the pangs,
Desperation grips me and I need to find things right away,
A pen a page and nothing else; let mind take flight and bother with the world,
I take shelter where I can hide and rest:
Won’t you come, if I invite you in; make yourself at home pardon the mess,
Its crude I know but it is mine, so let the palace of my mind just shine.

Adan