A Poem about Serious Disorder

I know you were going for a “serious dis”

but got “serious disorder,” a whirlwind of piss

that’s the problem with having an agenda

to destroy both the alpha and omega

which is, always, in opposition of the former

having made more performers than the latter

you must be more careful performing on a ladder

too often the ladder falls on top of you, banging

your face, leaving all your secrets dangling

because one of “the many” you were banging

bailed on you, leaving you (physically) hanging

now you want to hang someone else out to dry

do you (even) have a legitimate reason why

you’ve chosen this, particular, someone else?

did your delusional stupor leave you with welts

I told you to be careful when you’re on a ladder

in the former use of ladder not in the latter

what’s that? no, nothing’s the matter

with me, but those who lost their heart seem madder

and, if you really want the truth, they don’t matter

they’re all too scared of the Mad Hatter

only the mad one knows why she's mad at her

but this story gets so, so much sadder

even simpletons know the injustice done to her

because Mad’s always hated her since she never

thanked Mad for the dunce hats Mad gave her

she said she wouldn’t wear any of them - ever

so Mad wore the biggest one and once more

got all in her face, after she opened the door

“you cause too much fucking chatter

between those who fawn over me thinking I matter

like the hats I took out of your trash bin

what a terrible place for my dunce hats to be in

it’s as if you really, truly hated all of them

I can, finally, see that you’re not, even,

vaguely close to a person that I want in my spot

your ugliness inside erupts, and “he” thinks you’re hot

bitch, you never heard a word of the chit-chatter

my circumcised clique-tourists tried to splatter

your two, fly-by friends were forced under a ladder

noticing my evil twin walk in to fucking watch

the “cover-up” was ugly like the merkin on my crotch"

I asked my twin, “what time is it?” she said, "go buy a watch

then take it off and toss it, way up high, inside the loft

where she lays, every day, praying our hearts get soft

go on, get mad at me, thinking Ms. Madd had her"

just because Mad removed her hat to dance with her

made it look like she had more romance with her  

nobody thought that she had any friends

she never talked about them in the end

she had as many as her drug money could buy

so it was predictable that they would all start to die

still, when the news came back to her who is me

as if to make the Mad Hatter see

because I lost another friend, yet again

I knew, at that moment, right there and then

I was going to be alone forever,

always a suicidal failure who never

died and stayed dead

even the brain inside my head

came back, again and again, even when

it went forty-five minutes without oxygen

which should have made a larger dent

most people would have required a vent

in order to keep themselves alive

science says a human brain starts to, rapidly, die

after seven to ten minutes the neurons get fried

pronounced "dead” so many times, why have I survived?

it doesn’t matter, the Hatter's evil twin has gone mad

demanding to have my head for showing how, truly, bad

the clique-tourists have treated me as if I circumcised

the ugliness and disfigurement her merkin tries to hide

just go away – all of you – find another voice to quiet

I’m dead set to conquer failure, it’s best done in private

©October 3, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Thank you!

Let me just take this moment to thank all of you around the world who have taken notice of my blog. I have to say that I do love the French. I know all the "conservatives" in this country will not like my candidness about my feelings for you overseas, but "Merci beaucoup! I love you!"

Please, don't be shy (any of you who cruise by - no matter where you're from). Join or follow my blog and feel free to comment (bad or good) I need to hear what you think or feel about the things I write. I would appreciate it and I am not one to intrude into your life with the incessant email notifications. (At least I hope this thing isn't set up that way on it's own accord - I know I haven't set anything like that up so...)

Anyway, thank you so very much, merci beaucoup, gracias, and that's the extent of my foreign language skills (sorry to my German, Russian, Ukrainian, Romanian viewers - I don't know your language, maybe you can educate me).

Are You Sexy?

there’s nothing sexy about mental illness

nothing that screams out “come give me a kiss”

no one wants to see it or be around it or, even, admit

that they feel this way or the fact that they just quit

caring about those who need them the most

it’s sickening how this world looks at all of those

who are in worlds equivalent to hell

everyday that’s the place they dwell

glimpses of happiness and escape of reality

that’s so surreal, unreal and far from normalcy

I feel sorry for them, no problem looking at them

I see in their eyes all they have to give from within

why do people have to separate from whatever

isn’t completely comfortable in their world of never

seeing things outside the lines within the silver lining

glimmering, it makes them all stark shaking

they can’t help themselves almost like those

who they can’t handle being near, they dispose

of any concern or compassion and that’s cruel

don’t fucking look at me, man, I didn’t write this rule

if you don’t want to look at the truth because it’s ugly

don’t blame any of the ugly shit upon me

I didn’t make it and if you don’t start to face it

no good can ever possibly come from it

face your fears, feel what’s uncomfortable

it’s life and you have to deal with it, don’t ya know?

not everything in the world is perfect like television shows

reality shows are scripted you fucking clown – grow

yeah, sprout some nuts and climb up out of your shell

don’t you realize that you normal people aren’t well?

you can fake it better than the ones on the street

that’s because you have insurance to help you keep

it together, take your pills, pay your bills, ignore them still

then take more pills with alcohol to keep from being ill

with all that you don’t want to face in this world

call me in a few years to tell me how you curled

up in the fetal position unable to move or better still

get out to work, you lost your insurance and your pills

now you’re out on the street with those you hid from well

your part of the crowd, you never imagined you’d fail

how does it feel to be ignored by those you thought cared?

are you as hopeless and miserable and fucking scared

as the ones you avoided and despised so much?

Karma’s a bitch ain’t she, especially without a crutch

get it together, what? Are you just lazy

oh, that’s right you’re just fucking crazy

how do you feel now mister big-shot CEO?

a nervous breakdown stole your show

don’t ever think it can’t happen to you

this shit comes as random like all things do

I forgive you and I will look at you in your eyes

and I won’t judge you and I will love you, know why?

because you are still my brother in the grand scheme

there’s only love to give each other in this dream

©September 23, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas

Face to Face, Who are You?

come on everyone

it’s time to do an exercise

each of you pick a partner

sit, facing one another

stare, deep, into each other’s eyes

do not speak a word

look past the physical, through and into their heart and soul

feel their emotions or listen to their thoughts

whatever you feel or pick up on – just hold

allow them to see you, really see you

who you are, what you’ve done, anything you’ve been through

don’t try to hide any part of you

now – everyone stop, tell each other what you saw

taking turns to hear from your partner

does anything they say resonate as “truth?”

(what was said)

all I see is pain, an enormous amount of pain, it’s so fucking heavy

(how what's said is translated)

I see a beautiful person who’s very scared

she’s worried about being rejected by those most important to her

but, she has strength and knows who she is

she doesn’t have to hide her beauty, her kindness

by doing things she believes

will prove her fears to be correct

she is okay within herself to love enough for anyone

who may not be able to see

past their own fears or self-imposed limitations

about who she is, what she does or has done

she knows if they can’t or won’t accept her

as she is, who she is completely

it isn’t her fault – it is the other’s defect

she has enough love for them and her despite

whatever they won’t allow themselves to have for her

it’s okay, she has enough – she doesn’t need theirs

it’s okay if they don’t want to be around her

to treat her with courtesy, dignity and respect

it’s okay because she will still give “that” to them

she has no delusions that she will change them

she’s not trying to force or manipulate her way

into the hearts of those who are supposed to love her

to support her for who she is no matter what that may be

it’s okay – she tells herself – it’s okay everyday

there’s no more need for her to numb the pain

because she has enough love for all of them

and if nothing ever changes – it’s okay

she doesn’t have to worry about anything anymore

she is who she is, it is what it is, they are who they are

and everything, now – at last, is okay

©September 21, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas