structural entropy
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2010
- Messages
- 70
This poem is inspired from a bad trip I had. I wrote it about a day after the bad trip for an assignment in my creative writing class. I hope you enjoy.
Delirious Haze
Dancing down in the flaming dreams
Like a madman chanting about his paranoid disease
His eyes glance at pillars of flames that no one sees
His voice melts in a haze from rhythm guitar
He scrambles out of bed in a delirious state of mind
can't think or see straight, can't tell he's in a raving lunar high
The red moon dances as if the sky were set ablaze
Stumbling out of his home, he starts to scream
“I'm not part of myself, don't you see?
People aren't coherent, I refuse to understand
why I'm in this position, why fever infects my brain.”
The cops showed up from his loud racket
cart that crazy man down to psychiatric
Doctors wheel by, nothing's the same
As he lives out the rest of his days
Gone by down, he yearns for freedom
Locked up in an institutionalized asylum
Pump him full of meds until he's semi-conscious
Laying in a stupor, can't control his movements
Relying on nurses for every little thing
He's got very little to look forward to
Then one day he starts to stand up to the ward
“I'm out of control! 4mg of Risperidone!
You may control the daily dose of all these medicines
But you can't control me, my society!”
Calling a dozen orderlies down
The nurse's station becomes a scene of mayhem
This raving man takes up all his strength
Breaking free from mental restraint
Pushed down by a dozen syringes
He gets knocked out and the doctors repair the carnage
“He's a harm to himself and society, which is why we're moving
him to the chronic ward.”
I just hope Nurse Ratched will have mercy
on his blazing soul.
Delirious Haze
Dancing down in the flaming dreams
Like a madman chanting about his paranoid disease
His eyes glance at pillars of flames that no one sees
His voice melts in a haze from rhythm guitar
He scrambles out of bed in a delirious state of mind
can't think or see straight, can't tell he's in a raving lunar high
The red moon dances as if the sky were set ablaze
Stumbling out of his home, he starts to scream
“I'm not part of myself, don't you see?
People aren't coherent, I refuse to understand
why I'm in this position, why fever infects my brain.”
The cops showed up from his loud racket
cart that crazy man down to psychiatric
Doctors wheel by, nothing's the same
As he lives out the rest of his days
Gone by down, he yearns for freedom
Locked up in an institutionalized asylum
Pump him full of meds until he's semi-conscious
Laying in a stupor, can't control his movements
Relying on nurses for every little thing
He's got very little to look forward to
Then one day he starts to stand up to the ward
“I'm out of control! 4mg of Risperidone!
You may control the daily dose of all these medicines
But you can't control me, my society!”
Calling a dozen orderlies down
The nurse's station becomes a scene of mayhem
This raving man takes up all his strength
Breaking free from mental restraint
Pushed down by a dozen syringes
He gets knocked out and the doctors repair the carnage
“He's a harm to himself and society, which is why we're moving
him to the chronic ward.”
I just hope Nurse Ratched will have mercy
on his blazing soul.
