Forgotten Grandeur

Forgotten Grandeur

Waking up in the hazy morning I left a conversation
I was having with a dream being about my mental health
In the last fragments of the dream I recalled saying
Amazing prophetic words of how the world will change
But to my own disdain, in my mind they are now all too fleeting
I had manifested insights into solving the pains of my brethren
Ascribed to me from a heaven-sent angel in the other world
And now I sit in this dark cold room fingers to the bridge of my nose
Trying to recall the secret code that would unlock a cure
To this world's flailing miseries
The masses would have been enlightened and change would soon to come
If not for my memory of that receding moment
That frolics in my languid curiosity escaping its grasp
Perhaps the dream will return to me once more at some point in my day
But the distractions envelope my conscious in a deftly way
Until this moment where these words escape my being
The dream existed in some other dimension and here I sit struggling
To recall what could have been the greatest inspiration of all
For you to read in this poem written without much grace
Yet could these be the words that reach into your mind
And turns wild child eyes into deathly hollowed sockets
Or raise your hand in obedience to my will
In the end any outcome revealed
Would no doubt lead to both

Copyright Adam Gaile 2012

Bonfire Memories

Bonfire Memories

One cannot be equipped for the passage of time
As surely as one cannot read another's mind
Yet I sit here counting certainties
Wondering if my life has become a festering sore
Still there are blessings accounted for aplenty
I've got a collection of broken toy memories
That seems to take up the bulk of my wandering mind
The images that I've seen...
Makes me wonder if I'm living with a curse
But with this curse comes an inward blessing
The arrangement of the photos on my wall can account for that
I've been pondering first kiss memories
And to this day I scoff at my tender trembling
There comes a time when every man can see the silver lining
That unseen mesh that binds mind to body
Sever the link and eternal oblivion awaits
And I'll be waiting here till my grey days
Waiting for my sore to heal
Waiting for a cure, waiting for the day
When a life mediocre becomes extraordinary
And on that day I will lift my voice and sing a new song
One that recounts bonfire memories and time shared
With the ones who carried the burden with me
And when I pass I will meet them in paradise
For this I know.

Copyright Adam Gaile 2012

Hallwakers and Morning Droolers

Hallwalkers and Morning Droolers

I went to the loony bin and met my dream girl 
There were nurses taking names
Arm bands around wrists
There was a man named Monte 
Sober five days outta his life for the first time
Had the worst day of his life in the mental hospital
Got hepatitis…
Bit off his tongue from an alcohol induced seizure
Bit back the pain, with every bite of that God awful food
His mother died on the third day, girlfriend left on the fourth…
But it was okay
Cause we loved him…had to because we were in that same God damn place
He smiled as we watched the hallwalkers and the morning droolers

I met this crazy-ass chick with the biggest eyes you've ever seen
She taught me how to touch and to break all my OCD’s
We kissed in the mental hospital
Tongue to tongue…sweet as summer rain
Nurse busy with paper work as she wrapped her arm around my head
Fingers through my hair, not a glance or a stare
She was good alright…fireworks in my head
I gave myself to her, and my fears faded as the shivers fled

We sat eating popcorn watching the hallwalkers and stoned screamers
And laughed and giggled at the repeat offenders
Asking in tones of hopelessness when they could go home and see their family...

...500 fucking times a day!

Still we laughed, joked, and played poker 
While the man in ripped blue jeans in the next room was going through withdrawals
He was in Iraq
Blew off foreign appendages with foreign guns
He came back with teeth gone and meth on his breath 
But he left grinning ear to ear, because...
Me and my crazy-ass friends had a ball in the loony bin
Sober as the day, but high for the first time on life

Met a kid named James
Running from some fucked up gang
Had to stay outta Philly, or they were gonna kill his family
In an act of final desperation he tried to end the life his enemies sought
And so he got his sorry ass locked up
We played cards and games, watched TV, and yes we were all insane
But the day we last saw James…
He had a smile on his face
And a new home away from the pain

The voices that brought me there
Were drowned out by the ones who got me here
Typing at this keyboard, instead of rotting in a coffin 
suicide solution)
We raised hell; we pissed off the nurses, doctors unaware

(as usual)

Even the schizos invisible friends were joining in the games
The cutters from arms to razors, to cutting cards, and cutting farts

And god her hair...her hair! 
And those eyes...Superman eyes
Could see through anything...through my pain, my sadness, my loneliness
My frustration, desperation, sorrow, and shame...looked right through me
And she saw my heart, and I swear...
As we sat there watching the hallwalkers and head shrinkers, I held her hand

The nightmares of that ward were replaced by my dream girl

I had the best day of my life in a mental hospital
Cause my disorder became ordered by love.

Copyright Adam Gaile 2012

Cope

Cope

Sometimes I feel like my life has come down to this...crawling in slow motion through mud to reach some unseen hint of satisfaction that always looms out of focus just out of reach always off in the distance....forever my mind’s antagonizer. My illness shrieks a banshee's cry. While diamonds fall from the heavens slicing open my skin, festering welts rip open exposing my weak frailty to the elements of mankind. There in the moonlight’s fading glimmer there comes a circular orb of nothingness more dark, bleak, and black than the deepest depths of utter nothingness that creeps in and fills up the basins behind my eyes. My skin turns to charcoal. A brazen attack consumes my spirit as it crackles and splints, rips, and twists, as I take a faltering bow to those wisps of smoke and creeping eyes in the murk. As laughing voices drift in and out of the nether worlds beyond my fading recognition I receive moments of reality in short tiny minuscule gaps of cohesive understanding whilst I bathe in trembling dismay. This my friends is how I see my world on a day to day basis when I am gripped by the sickness that was wrought by my deformed brain. People look at me…but it is so hard to return their gazes as I nod feigning comprehension and throw out monosyllabic expressions of agreement, while all along they have no idea that I am bearing witness to a whole other dimension that they are completely unaware of. There are small writhing black tentacle creatures in the corners of my peripheral vision. Friends, family, and colleagues stare at me talking; lips moving, eyes zipping, heads tilting side to side, hands gesturing, but...their faces are contorting into maniacal grimacing expressions of evil incarnate to reveal madness within. I look completely calm and at ease…even smiling while they go on completely oblivious and ignorant of what I am witnessing. A nod here, a nervous laugh there…try to focus my eyes on their eyes, but Oh God don’t stare…try to make it seem natural. Just do your best to ignore the fact that the whole world around you is crumbling into absolute chaos….and deal with it! COPE! Try to remember that tomorrow is just another day and this too shall soon pass…  

Copyright Adam Gaile 2012

Are You Certain?

Are You Certain?

I can’t find God in a city of a thousand churches 
A man once told me swing a dead cat in any direction and you’ll hit one
Yet for all of the searching I have done, I have discovered one thing
Church is not a building, it is not a group of like-minded people
Church is something you carry around with you
It’s a fanny pack hidden with trinkets, gems, and trash 
In which I have been collecting bits and pieces of information 
Gathered over 30 years of tripping over my own feet
To find answers to questions...
Questions that are never satisfied or sated by the words of anyone I meet
I pray every night, but sometimes I feel like my church is just me
My assembly: my dog, bed, and dresser
My choir: a rusty broken stereo pumping “hipster” music
I find myself in this chapel…this tiny city apartment, and I think…
Wow…am I the only one on this planet who truly speaks to God.
Because whenever I hear pastors preach I swear they don't
I feel like every steeple and bell is vying for my attention
But in this city of division…of quick drive-by salvation 
I find nothing but endless tracks littering the streets proclaiming various versions of the truth
Who’s truth is it…I wonder
Everyone has their own belief of what they think is true and false
We all live in tiny encapsulated worlds, our entire being wholly separated
From the other worlds that lurk inside the skulls of all the other people passing by
There’s a world inside of this skull that’s not so sure of what is real
Tell me please somebody tell me the truth…
I thought I was saved…and even now I know that I am, but what of these rules
Law now made into absolution…now one law to follow:
Believe in the resurrection…
Sure! Yes I do!
But then why do you cut me down when I laugh at a joke, watch a certain TV show, listen to a certain band, look at certain websites, smoke certain cigarettes, say certain “bad” words, think certain “bad“ thoughts…
Certainly we all have done these things? 
Right?
Come on now are you sure…are you certain?
Of course we have…we all have…so why am I righteous because I believe the son of man is the son of God…?
Why does that make me better than you Mr. Atheist? Mr. Muslim? Mr. Jew?
Well, in the world inside this skull…it doesn’t!
I am forgiven…this I believe…I am saved…this I too believe. 
So why does it make me so incredibly angry when I hear the preacher scream…

“Sinner!”

Tired of all this us vs. them…our God vs. their God…us vs. the world…
How can we be against the world, if we are of the world, and how can we be against what God created. 
How can we be against ourselves?
How can God love us, yet we defile, reject, torment, hate, and vilify ourselves?
This to me is not truth!
God is love…God loves us…but why must we not love ourselves?
We hate ourselves, we fear others but in the end all I’m left with are…more…questions. 
My brain is fried, I can’t even get into the fact that everyone who is hearing this is probably pissed off at this point
But the truth is I don’t give half a donkey scrotum…
In fact I don’t give the whole scrotum.
(Oops…can’t say scrotum now…it’s a bad word)
I guess in the end I am left as dumbfounded as anyone else…we seem to be so sure of ourselves
I want to be closer to God…I’m just afraid to buy a pair of Nikes and drink the Kool-Aid
And is that so unreasonable? 

Copyright Adam Gaile 2012