Don't Fit In

If all the world is a stage
then I am sitting in the last row of the tattered balcony seats
empty glass in my hand
and gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe

Sometimes I feel like an alien on a planet of surrealistic fools
surrounded by beings that are blind to the visions that I can see
drifting through a sleepless nightmare on the oceans of insanity

I don’t fit in
Like the one burnt out bulb in a crystal chandelier
or a hacking cough during a symphonic pause
Like a whisper of smoke from the smoldering ashes of a once glorious bonfire

Look at this carcass, what do you see
Can your minds even slightly grasp this complicated assemblage of atoms.
Six billion people in this catatonic world
and not a single one of them know me
For I am alone within my thoughts

I don’t fit in
I don’t fit into their temples and churches and mosques
I listen to their songs of praise and they mean nothing to me
They worship an Idea that falls short of my expectations
They believe, but they do not understand
They fear the power of their Idea
and they fear the possibility that their Idea may not be real
They read the book, but they cannot comprehend the intricate simplicity of
“I am that I am.”

The essence of the Idea is real . . .
even if their shallow vision of God is not

I just don’t fit in
I walk through their cities like I walk through a forest
I am alone, even though life teems in abundance
I push my way through the foliage
like I push my way through their false ideologies
I walk softly amidst the trees and the troglodytes
the poplars and the populace
the sycamores and the psychopaths
the underbrush and the uninvolved
Trees that walk and humans that are rooted to their bewildering dogma
plants and people, vacant of thought
life and nothing more

If ignorance is bliss, then I am a bomb
A breathing explosion of truth and light
An apocalyptic thunderstorm of reality
And like the gavel of truth pounding upon a sore thumb
I throb with a pain that won’t subside
A pain that gnaws inside of me like the emptiness of a bottomless hole
I want to grab humanity by the neck and shake the masses from their stupor
I want to smack their faces with the sharp slap of reality
I want to show them that the image in the mirror is just a reflection of physics,
of atoms,
of flesh and blood and other disposable molecules
and that within that reflection of external deformities
is a soul
and that the soul is the only thing for which they need to seek

                        Death will not provide the answers
                        Death will only stop your questions

I don’t fit in
So I wrote this poem:

My visions come from a different place
I just don’t fit into this human race
One solitary being with nothing to lose
I live a reality so different from you

I see the old and I can see the weak
And I see your sickness as we speak
I see your hate and I see your war
I see your money stuffed into the hoar
I see society wallowing in the mud
I pray for earthquakes, I worship the flood
And if your nukes don't burn you the lack of ozone will
And I know that a plague won't cure all of your ills
       But it'll sure make me feel better
And if I really had a bomb I’d know what to do
Put it in a condom, make love to you

So call me brave Ulysses
adrift upon the sea
I don’t fit in to this fucking world
and it won’t fit into me

I don’t fit in with the poets or the artists
the intellectuals or the outellectuals
the famous, the freaks or the flops
I don’t fit in with the sophisticated gentry or the ignorant slobs
the in or the out crowd
the wannabes, the has-beens or the trailer park trash
I don’t fit in the gays, the straights, the bi’s, the highs,
the clean, the clear, the saved or the lost
I don’t fit in with the savage or the meek
I don’t fit in the saints or the sinners,
the saviors, the rebels or the conformists

I just don’t fit in
and I don’t know why
and sometimes I want to
I’m tired of not fitting in
and I’m tired of being alone

Can’t you see that I’ve been damned
This bitter, lonely, desolate man
This freak show that I truly am
God dammit, I cannot continue with this sham

I don’t want nails in my wrists and feet
And I don’t want to live with your defeat
And I’m tired of hiding behind my laugh
I want the world that I can never have

Flickering like a candle in this darkened room
Perhaps it is time to face my doom
And fall into that ocean of humanity
and let my soul drown in the murky depths of insanity
Take this burden of knowledge away from me
And wrap me in your cloak of conspiracy
Blind my eyes with the bliss of ignorance
and let me quietly blend into the great mélange of humankind . . . . . .

But I just don’t fit in
and I never . . . ever . . . ever will
And I thank God for that