Poetry by C. Sunshine (aka me)

[psychorrhea]

Intro

Psych: meaning "of the soul:

-rrhea: a suffix meaning "discharge"

The name of my blog means "Soul discharge" because that is how I view my poetry.

We are a plural system, and most of our poems are a team effort, However sometimes Neil or Doc write poems alone. those will be tagged as such.

Each poem will have a read more, if you click it you will see me share the meaning behind any poems or lines of poems I write! I love explaining why I wrote things the way I did! If you prefer to analyze the meaning yourself just don't click it lol

[psychorrhea]

An attempt to be more than what i already was leaves the world a hollow place.

The pendulum sings of the distance between madness and sanity. The lovers are close to re-united...

-Neil

An attempt to be more than what i already was leaves the world a hollow place: not sure what this means. Neil's poems are more subconscious than conscious, and so they are very hard to analyze.

The pendulum (he meant metronome) sings (by sing he means the ticking measure of a metronome) of the distance between madness and sanity. (the distance is short, like a metronome's tick. but like a metronome, the distance between ticks can be changed.) The lovers are close to re-united... (madness and sanity are the lovers mentioned here.)

[psychorrhea]

Dreams of an insomniac

(written 1:30 AM)

I placed the object on the table

Loss of identity

Fragmentation

Title: its dreams of an insomniac because if someone doesn't sleep (like if they are an insomniac) they hallucinate instead of dream. so the title is literally "hallucinations". I don't hallucinate, I just love making psychology references.

I placed the object on the table: I placed food on a counter.

Loss of identity: the food lost it's identity and became an object.

Fragmentation: the way thoughts and poems are when you're tired

[psychorrhea]

I'm the black candle

My edges drip to void

Something to a-void I suppose (I SUPPOSE)

My woes won't grow?

I wish for hope but it throws down it's sword and gives in... the candle burns burns in and out... thats what they told me as a child! "In and out :) breathe :)" but i had no breath left to take out for a ride or let in from the cold or whatever it was they wanted. He stole my breath! Curses to him, the scary man (boy) choked me! Fuck! And the flame, did it sputter out or roar to life? Does it matter, hatter? Am i you, too? And the big blue fills my eyes as i cry, they speak such awful lies. Why? Oh my. I want to die (not really, it's for the rhyme!) When i think of that time! But we'll be fine. They are mine, that's our line! One big happy family! Divine! Distortion is acidic, Doc is alkaline! I'm black pepper, Sunny is a fruit on the vine! If i miss (or repeat) a line, i'll be in a bind! "Goodbye, he sighed." 

-Neil in lime

I'm the black candle

My edges drip to void

Something to a-void I wrote "Void" separately so it would be like "a void" I suppose (I SUPPOSE) I wrote I suppose again in parentheses because its an inside joke with my friend that's a reference to rhythm heaven

My woes won't grow?

I wish for hope but it throws down it's sword and gives in... the candle burns burns in and out... thats what they told me as a child! "In and out :) breathe :)" but i had no breath left to take out for a ride or let in from the cold or whatever it was they wanted. He stole my breath! Curses to him, the scary man (boy) choked me! Fuck! And the flame, did it sputter out or roar to life? Does it matter, hatter? Am i you, too? And the big blue fills my eyes as i cry, they speak such awful lies. Why? Oh my. I want to die (not really, it's for the rhyme!) When i think of that time! But we'll be fine. They are mine, that's our line! One big happy family! Divine! Distortion is acidic, Doc is alkaline! I'm black pepper, Sunny is a fruit on the vine! If i miss (or repeat) a line, i'll be in a bind! "Goodbye, he sighed." 

-Neil in lime

[psychorrhea]

I'm not mad

I'm just disappointed

That you would call me mad

For i am no hatter

I am here(?), in this mind(?), in this world(?)

We all have the ability to go mad here so,

Though not mad, i cannot be called sane

For i am no Alice

I walk the tightrope between

Wonderland and wherever it is i go

When i disappear

For I am a cat painted in cheshire

Both worlds, Sane and mad.

Both a part of me. Both loved by me.

How foolish to assign a binary to

the human mind and its infinite variations!

[psychorrhea]

Verschlimmbessern (part 2)

I know how to fix this

because I was born to fix this.

I may have failed once before,

But i was young then.

Naive.

I thought i could win.

Here. Let me hide you.

You'll be invisible

Untouchable

A God

All of your transgressions will be hidden away

Here is what you have to do:

Dress like everyone else.

Don't express yourself.

If they ask you to make art,

Make it meaningless.

No matter how angry it makes you feel,

And how unfair it is,

Write a thoughtful reflection in each box,

But make sure

to tell them what they want to hear.

(Your reflection should be several complete sentences.)

What happened?

(Briefly describe the situation.

Be what they will perceive as honest

and repent for your sins.)

"In science I sat on a table instead of chair

and was disruptive

and didn't listen.

So I was asked not to take the bus,

but i did any way."

Who was impacted?

(Think about who was affected

and how it impacted them.

That's what matters, after all.

Them. Not you.)

"My teachers,

Class mates,

grace and Richard,

and everyone on the bus + My parents."

How did it make you feel?

(Describe your emotions

before, during, and after the situation.

Just make sure not to say angry

Or happy.)

"it made me feel ashamed and confused."

How did it make others feel?

(Try to understand

how your actions might have made others feel.

Assume the worst.

You made everyone feel awful.

You hurt them. Nobody cares if they hurt you.)

"My behavior made others feel

disrespected,

scared,

Confused,

frustrated,

and unheard."

What can you do to make things right? (Brainstorm ways to repair

the harm caused by your actions.

Just make sure

to humiliate yourself in the process.

It won't fix anything, but it will be funny.)

"I can apologize verbally to

Jeremy, Grace, Richard, and my classmates."

Moving Forward:

(What can you do differently next time

to avoid a similar situation?

Set some goals for yourself

to improve your behavior.

Never do it again. You failed once.

More than once. You need to stop.

You never learn.)

"I can take a deep breath

and think about other's needs

and take a break."

Additional Notes:

(Use this space to share

any further thoughts or feelings.

Now is a good time to beg.)

"I have taken time to reflect

and a lot has changed."

Remember:

Honesty and taking responsibility are important.

This is a chance to learn from your mistakes and make things right.

And you better make things right. You monster.

Most importantly:

Never tell the truth no matter what.

No matter how must you trust someone.

No one will be able to hurt you

if they don't know who you really are.

(Lying is lot more entertaining anyway!)

*Verschlimmbessern is a german word with no exact english translation. It is best described as a supposed improvement that makes things worse.

[psychorrhea]

Verschlimmbessern

I know how to fix this

because I was born to fix this.

Here. Let me save you.

You'll be invincible

Untouchable

A God

All of your weakness will be burned away

Here is what you have to do:

Block the water that flows

from your fountain of grief.

Growl and bare your teeth.

even as the ground wets with your tears,

you should deny it.

Slam the door extra loud

(so everybody knows that you are angry)

Say things like

"You are so cowardly

that if I ate your heart

it would dissolve before it even reached my stomach."

Swear as much as you fucking can

(because it's goddamn hilarious

how pissed off it makes people)

Become a doctor, or as close as you can get.

Start wearing a labcoat everywhere

(It makes you look trustworthy)

And if you don't wear glasses

get some fake ones so you look "smarter"

(Then you can get away with more lies)

Carry the most terrifying things you can

(A pair of antique surgical scissors,

A syringe,

A jar of human teeth)

And never let them go.

Never show fear.

Always have jokes prepared.

The worse the situation is,

The more sarcastic quips you should make.

Argue, argue, argue.

Your reasoning is your sword.

Your mind is your greatest weapon.

You are always right.

Let go of guilt

And fear

And sadness

And fear again.

Do the grossest,

Most bizzare

Things you can imagine.

Drink your own blood.

Bite people.

Scream for no reason.

Let them call you crazy.

(Crazy beats dead any day.)

Most importantly:

Never tell the truth no matter what.

No matter how must you trust someone.

No one will be able to hurt you

if they don't know who you really are.

(Lying is lot more entertaining anyway!)

Be strong.

(Because you can never be safe.)

Be respected.

(Because you can never be loved.)

Be forgotten.

(If they can't find you they can't hurt you.

If they don't remember you they won't hate you.)

Become something no one could hurt.

(But it will hurt you in the process)

There must be something wrong with you

Because you don't think of me as frightening

You don't see me as powerful

(PLEASE BE SCARED

BECAUSE IF YOU AREN'T

I HAVE NO POWER

AND IF I HAVE NO POWER

I CAN BE HURT)

*Verschlimmbessern is a german word with no exact english translation. It is best described as a supposed improvement that makes things worse.

[psychorrhea]

"As above, so below" by Dr. C. Sunshine

Up above us in the skies

Sits a land that's made of lies.

Fairy tales and fantasy,

Delusions of pure ectasy.

Lies we tell ourselves inside,

So we feel that all is fine.

Lies we tell to those around,

So they cannot strike us down.

The sugar clouds may taste so sweet,

But on them you will never meet

The souls who tread upon the ground

Their company will not be found.

The sugar clouds may taste so sweet,

But if they melt beneath your feet

You will fall from very high

So please do not depend on lies.

Deep below us underground

Hides the land where truth is found.

You can mine for secrets there,

But don't neglect your need for air.

For though the knowledge shines so bright,

The caves around are dark as night.

As lovely as these gems may seem,

You may wish you had never seen

The horrors hiding in the earth

So if you know what peace is worth,

You will not dig or claw or burrow

Underneath the soil's rich furrow

You will not push yourself beneath

To fuel obsession as you grow weak.

So if "as above, so below"

Where is someplace safe to go?

This is my advice, my dear:

On the surface. You're already here.

The surface has good company

And pretty things like grass and trees.

I care for you, so i shall say:

Here with me's where you should stay.

Don't climb too high, nor fall too low.

Forget your want, or fear, to know.

[psychorrhea]

Nature often holds my eye

with vibrant blooms and butterflies

although these treats are sure to please

my favor lies with Tempest's breeze!

she dances by with boundless grace

and wipes the tears from my damp face

she sings to me in dulcet tones

and though she chills right to my bones

and shakes the trees

My darling breeze

My untamed zephyr

surely stays my favorite weather!

[psychorrhea]

"The Poison berries taste the sweetest"

Shimmering beneath the verdant smoke

there lies the body of a God

cracked lenses stare into the null

blinking lights flicker out, drained of awe

the ink rose from the pages

of all the awful lies the adults wrote

and mingled with my blood and tears

like lovers left alone

in the death of this particular God

death is not the lovely part

but The Watcher was a wicked God

So therein lies the art

I was once a lovely garden

Till the fire came

and burnt away the flowers

to plant its weeds of pain

so when the liars get you

and roll you over, belly up

You might not even notice

when they make their first cut

You notice it years later

when you see the scar

even if you can't recall

just what the details are

so if the bitter words they feed you

are your daily bread

you are not sick of character

but poisoned in the head

[psychorrhea]

Passenger's Prayer (calendar version)

Worn thin, I drag myself to collapse

Within your yellow metal chassis

I lay my head against your window

I pray that you won't take me home today

Please don't take me home today

You twist around my battered body

I've missed your blue-gray seat beneath me

I curl deeper into your body

I feel too small for all around me

Hold me so i can finally rest

Keep me safe from every threat

This is a weary passenger's prayer

Drive me to somewhere i won't be scared

Sing me an engine's lullaby

Rock me as you tilt side to side

I look out the window at trees

I know your route is set to save me

[psychorrhea]

You were going to die, and you were singing

I remember your bright voice illuminating the cold grey sky, melting the frost on your eyelashes, yellow swirls of apricity traveling around the icebergs even after we had passed.

[psychorrhea]

A summer's day

Green grass gently swaying

In the wind

As summer aspirations drift on by

Like clouds and stars in summer skies

Reflected

mirror like

In our eyes

Endless as the autumn’s pouring rain

Echoing between us

Now and then

A story of our tragedy

Our pain

Soft as feathers on a gulls white wing

Smiling like the moon does when it’s thin.

Big blue seas and endless summer skies

Make us think of flames and fireflies

But the only glow that flickers here

Is the warmth within me when you’re near

They always say that love will never last

Affection great as it is fast

But i’ll love you until the end

And if not my heart shall rend

And drift to lands both far and wide

With rivers made from tears i’ve cried

Where all the plants are bare and brown

And fish don’t swim instead they drown

My only face shall be a frown.

But as of now i love you still

And as i’m staring from the sill

I watch the stars

The sky

The moon

And when i sleep

I dream of you.

[psychorrhea]

A man called mercy

You awaken to the feeling of a gloved hand hauling you upright.

It's slick and slippery with blood.

He props you up

against your teammates corpse

and asks you:

"What's the last thing you remember?"

You remember the falling snow,

Stained red with your blood.

You remember the crunch of the boot

As it came down on... something.

Whatever it crushed hurt like hell.

You remember begging for mercy.

The man who saved you laughs.

"Good then. I am mercy."

You look at his face,

stained with blood

but still holding onto a sharp grin.

Sharp as the bonesaw in his pack.

His coat is white,

But only his glasses are clean.

Although he saved your life,

Something about him scares you.

"Is that your name? Mercy?"

"I have many names.

Mercy for you, Vengeance for them."

He walks away.

You do not follow.

[psychorrhea]

"What do you think of Poetry?"

don't get me started.

I don't like it.

I hate it, even.

Why?

Because it's rude, that's why.

Well, what are you looking at me like that for?

Fine, I'll explain it to you.

But don't expect it to rhyme.

Heh.

First off,

it forces you to feel whatever it pleases.

Poems don't give a damn about you

and how much you hate crying.

They'll kick down your door

and slash your tear ducts open.

Shoot you in the chest while they're at it. 

Second,

I'll never be able to write one.

Not a good one anyway.

But if you give me a Knife

I can write a bad one.

Heh.

You see,

one needs feelings to write a poem.

And I do have a couple,

but I don't think a poem

about bloodlust and superiority

would be anything special.

Circling back to the first point,

I hate poetry

for the same reason

I hate crying.

It's so needlessly dramatic.

No one cares about

your god damn feelings,

and words won't save you

if everyone finally gets sick

of your hysteria

and leaves you,

or worse,

locks you up.

It's not that

I'm scared of my feelings,

I just hate poetry.

That's all.

it's not that deep.

the third reason I hate poems

is all the metaphors.

Metaphors are a lot like lies!

Why do you have to hide

behind your words,

are you SCARED?

Why can't you just say what you mean?

[psychorrhea]

Not what it sounds like

It feels like

they pulled an old guitar out of a closet

And played without tuning it

Assuming the guitar would sound the same

as it did when they last saw it

But that squawk is not what it sounds like

Nobody else in the house cares about the din

They do not raise complaints

about the awful playing, saying

"We'll probably never see that person again,

There's no point in tuning it for them.

They'll never play that guitar again.

Just get through this one performance."

But when someone new auditions every day

It doesn't matter who is ruining

The sound of a marvelous instrument

By neglecting to re-do the tuning

It all sounds the same. but if they only tuned it, it could have crowds swooning.

The true, lovely, voice of it is unknown to them.

that squawk is not what it sounds like.

It feels like

they pulled words out of a closet

And used them without knowing me

Assuming i would be the same

as i did when they last saw me

But that name is not what mine sounds like

Nobody else in the room cares about the sin

They do not raise complaints

about the awful baying, saying

"We'll probably never see that person again,

There's no point in correcting them.

They'll never see you again.

Just get through this one conversation."

But when someone new meets me every day

It doesn't matter who is ruining

The name of a marvelous person

By neglecting me with their assuming

It all sounds the same. but if they only asked me,

it could have me swooning.

The true, lovely, name of me is unknown to them.

that name is not what mine sounds like.