OUT THERE

A Display of Consumers' Arts and Literature

James Prihoda

POTENTIAL SCHIZOID

I’m going to the Douglas
I’m going to my home
That’s where I’m always wanted
To be left all alone

My pills are very nutricious
Cute and colourful
They afflict my little conscience
And are chronically painful

I’m a languid schizophrenic
And I’ve got halucinations
Although they’re auditory
They’ll screw up my complexion

I sometimes hear voices
They often put me down
My confidence is often drowned
I’m depressed without a choice

My life is a jumbling mess
I’m lost and confused
I spend my days bewildered
I’m due for an eternal rest

I’ve lost (all) hope and ambition
I haven’t got a clue (on what to do)
My soul is turning blue
My only option is immolation.
 DEFICIENT ME

I can’t read
‘Cause I don’t understand

I can’t write
‘Cause I don’t make sense

I can’t compose
‘Cause I don’t know what I’m doing

I am a failure in today’s society

I’m afraid of my father
I’m afraid of my mother

I’m scared to go outside
To search for a helping hand

But when I do go out
I usually end up stranded

I am a failure in today’s society.


 

POETRY TO ME

Poetry’s got me nowhere yet
But I’m willing to make a bet
Going to get myself set
To hit a nerve… fret

Dedication, perseverance
Committed to my trance
Making words dance
Publics appeal is to chance

My words are my way of art
Preferably accompanied (with); musical part
Like a stroll in the park
My work is my arc

Starting out as a closet writer
‘Cause I am viewed as an introverter
Extroversions come out on paper
My experience is what I have to offer.

 



I THE HUMAN SCUM / (J. H. S.)
(c. 1994)

My situation is strange, and I feel out of place
I got an itch inside but I just can’t scratch it.
This leads me to wonder how to solve this troubling fear
A fear that creates the nihilist I really am
Creating a being or beast without grace.

Earning a state of mind only the troubled can understand
I wonder how does one go about through his long journey
(this journey called life)
without: peace, hope, boldness, confidence; without coitus!
Lacking such essentials, one may end up dejected, let alone rejected.
Rejected from a society constructed by competitive standards.
Ideals based on everything I don’t have:
Money, (a) car, (a) job, copulation, and happiness.

I’ve been going downwards and onwards,
Stepping in wrong directions,
but these are the only directions I’ve been given.
I no longer have faith in mankind,
because mankind has never had faith in me.
I acknowledge rules but never follow.
When confronted by authority, I become cynical
I am a one of a kind, a kind that can respect others
without being respected.
I have no space and I’m running out of time.
No time to cry, no time to hide.
I only have time to die.

I have never been given a voice in order to be heard.
My life has been hexed and sums up to one great big jinx.
I’ve been given a life, a life I never wanted to live.
So I’ve come to a conclusion that
I should go back to where I originally came from:
My original space which is nowhere.
Go back to that place where I had: no voice, no self-confidence, no life.

(Oh how I miss that euphoric ambiance where nothing can go wrong).





JINGLE PILLS

Jingle pills, jingle pills
Going to fix my ills
Sip of this, down the hatch
Itch upon my back, scratch

Jingle pills, over the hill
(going to) Lay back and chill
Taking my medicine
Prevention from sin, pin

Loosing track with reality
Is there something wrong with my personality
Jumbled thoughts under scrutiny
But there’s a cure for all my lunacies

Risperdal, take it all
Before I will fall
Milligrams will do the trick
Or else I’ll (really) get sick, ick

Risperdal, viewed as pall
Got to answer my call
Or I’ll be a basket case
Straightjacket with(in) lace, pace

LASCIVIOUSLY LOST

I’m going nuts
I’m going crazy
Put out my butt
I’m becoming lazy

Am I feeling glee
Or am I feeling blue
I don’t know about you
But now I’m confused

I was born sick
(and) Now I’m sick of it
(Now) I take pills
Because I’m ill

Remaining as schizothymic
In my head it’s kin of scenic
Refraining from being senile
(and) Now I’m idle

I’m trying to find a soulmate
To keep me sane
(it’s) something (I tend) to contemplate
From a delusional brain

Need to find that woman
To keep my two feet on the ground
(sometimes) (feeling) under the weather, weatherman
(hope) she’ll keep me from going out of bounds

I’m all alone
On my pedestal throne
Staying occupied
Watching life go by

Thinking of certain thoughts
To quench a little drought
Care for it drop by drop
(once) satisfied then I’ll stop


SIMPLETON JIM

I’m simpleton Jim
With a grin on my chin
I may be a little shy
But I’m full of sin

Long-island iced teas
With a little gin
I’m simpleton Jim
And I’d like to be “in”

I’m quite the one’s that different
But I’m actually diffident
I am considered as reluctant
Thus, actually a reticent

Another long-island-iced-tea
Is what I like on the weekend
Keep to myself, discreet
Lazy boy, therefore indolent

Unobtrusive (and) can’t (get a) date
Not (even) feign (rather) sedate
Thoughts (are) not too consolidate
Slothful thus ruminate

Meek as being humble
Coy and bashful
Demure but wary
Modest yet timidly

Can’t find conversation
From being introversion
My opinions are agreeable
No need for fuss, thus amenable