Poem: 'Visions of Distortions: (or) Ammunitions to Proportion' by Jeremy Void

Visions of Distortions: (or) Ammunitions to Proportion

By Jeremy Void

I don’t trust

the things that I see

because the way that I dream

the way that I think

the schemes that I fathom

amid a mental maelstrom

pouring thunderous swells

of luxurious

misadventures

distinguishing the fuse

of another night’s wasted musings

losing a war that my soul

forfeited over

by the moon’s tremendous glow

I watch I wait I see I be

I twist I fight I tear I ignite

the chords of a rippling dissertation

a disturbance of

brittle dissatisfactions

I listen to my mind’s tantrum

my head tight tight tight in a vice

I wind the bars churning

my dystopian misanthropy

This bloated fast lane has got me

under its tremoring thumb

I succumb to the sadness

I become one with

the wanton badness

I beckon the madness

fraternize with a delirious

shadowy

fading array of flashing

blinking

headlights

Like a deer caught in the moon’s

overhead gloom

I’m gloomy & fragile

the things i see evaporating

I hope in death I die forever

implosions sent to surrender

I shut my eyes forever

because when I look at the fires

flickering up from the stove

I see not what it seems

I become not what you’d think

Evicted by sacrifice

Blessed to experience terminal

remission

dismiss the ruminations

I’m losing mutilated diluted

doomed to walk through

one disillusion after

the next

an elusive divergent

I load the feeble fusion of another

lonely night’s speedy visions

another distorted night’s disjointed

ammunition

I trust not what I see

because all I see here

is not worth the freezing cold

that buries the peasant’s

delirious leather

I get better on serendipitous extensions

extending a crisp, swollen hand

when

I fall

to the crumbling stones

hidden beneath the weather