The Imagination Man
made a steaming pot of coffee
sliding a crisp piece of paper into his typewriter
The machine began to scream
and the keys didn’t stop punching
like a heavyweight fighter
refusing to be knocked out
Even through sickness, critics, and rejection
He kept writing
Putting words on the page was sacred
like praying
A cult leader of one
a master and a slave
in his own mind
Sometimes we live dangerously
This type of living is special
It is the type that can kill you
Owning pet alligators
Skydiving
Dancing on the High-wire
Breaking out of the 9 to 5
Roaming the open road
loving freedom
Not allowing one’s self to control one’s self
Moving by the wisp of the wind
A lost soldier who actually has a battle to fight for
the battle for himself
Unwilling to make plans
living life in the raw
Open to new experiences
all experiences
whatever happens
is meant to be
Eating asparagus
growing alongside the road
and trucker food
that will clog his arteries
Losing time
and gaining it
Throwing mechanical measures away
Developing his own religion
and spiritual creed
The Imagination Man lives by his own law
I’m experiencing life
and leaving reality behind
I can’t be afraid
of being the madman
When I type long enough
I start to enjoy it
One thought leads into another
I can write about writing for hours
It is something I love
And the more I love it
the more my writing fills the holes
in my soul
Heaven is a Place that Kills You
Ease of living
can make you weak
It is the place old folks go
before they die
Young nurses make their beds
bring them meals
and comb their hair
until their bodies protest
Their heart stops
Their bowels quit holding
Everything lets lose
Accepting death
Consider eternity and what it means
When we lose the ability to appreciate life
We die
Heaven could be a metaphor
for living well
but life is monotonous
There is not much difference between heaven and hell
Eternal pleasure becomes painful
after awhile
Like a drug addict
with an eternal high
His choicest drug
cannot satisfy
Even in the peak of his pleasure
the emptiness
awaits
A void
never to be filled