Med resistance, mad persistence,
What a web we weave,
When pills are not the answer,
To the tears upon our sleeve,
We cling to hope beside the rope,
That hangs our soul to grieve,
It isn’t fun to come undone,
When searching for reprieve.

Med resistance, aged existence,
What a tale to tell,
My thirties to my fifties,
Saw me wandering through hell,
And every broken promise,
Kept me trapped under the spell,
Of madness and its feeble thoughts,
I’m far from feeling well.

Med resistance, need assistance,
What a life we lead,
When wounds are open season,
And you cannot stop the bleed,
And therapy’s the tourniquet,
To bandage every need,
Without JB to comfort me,
I doubt I would succeed.

Med resistance, coexistence,
What a mess we make,
When illnesses are pressing,
And we fear we must partake,
In every single protocol,
Our healing does forsake,
Sometimes the cold insanity,
Is difficult to shake.

Med resistance, mad persistence,
Where to go from here,
When pills are not the answer,
Who the hell is gonna steer,
When spinning off the earth,
Is not a hobby made for cheer,
I guess JB is stuck with me,
It’s either that or beer.

© The Complicated Bunny – 15 May 2023

As I sit and write I see,
An aging poet just like me,
Aligning words with artful skill,
Transcending life, diffusing will,

And as they write, a window clears,
Revealing more poetic peers,
Who they do watch, as I by chance,
Observe this whole eclectic dance,

A poem within a poem true,
Within a poem just for you,
Three layers of a hopeful plea,
Transforming how the world doth see,

And as we write of lives and loves,
And mental illness with its shoves,
We question what has brought us here,
Where darkness formulates its fear,

And scatters through the breadth of time,
Anointing thoughts that do combine,
To tell a tale that spans the years,
And builds a waterfall of tears,

That drenches decades as they climb,
And fashions rhythms within rhyme,
Ashore it all seems very clear,
These ships were made for us to steer,

Into the night, beyond the dark,
Where nightingales release a hark,
That summons muses far and wide,
And whisks them to the other side,

Where centuries of prose elude,
To change outdated attitude,
On love and life and mental ills,
We still depend on simple thrills,

And as I sit and write I see,
Creative poets just like me,
A hundred years may drift by fast,
But words were always meant to last.

© The Complicated Bunny – 14 May 2023

Sitting in the waiting room,
I contemplate my life,
Will everything work out,
Or will it just be paved with strife,
Will time present a future,
Where the struggle isn’t rife,
Sitting in the waiting room,
The vacuum of my life.

Standing in the waiting room,
The window holds a view,
Is outside any better,
Than the inside given you,
Where raw and bold emotions,
Only bleed the colour blue,
Standing in the waiting room,
Where moods dictate the view.

Thinking in the waiting room,
Of things that haunt my mind,
How can we bear to witness,
When the whole damn world is blind,
With every thread a question pulls,
The answer’s yet to find,
Thinking in the waiting room,
Where echoes rule my mind.

Sitting in the waiting room,
Where conversations start,
For therapy it is the key,
To bridge my ailing heart,
The instrument of healing,
Where the chaos falls apart,
Sitting in the waiting room,
Where life’s about to start.

© The Complicated Bunny – 11 May 2023

Manic musings, oh so deep,
It’s true I found the castle keep,
From whence I shout my raging rhyme,
To spare the thunders of our time.

Manic musings, oh so rich,
My madness loves to flick the switch,
I may be lost, but spirit found,
A way to keep the troubles round.

Manic musings, oh so fraught,
‘Twas light and liberty I sought,
But I’m afraid the darkness won,
And sent me hurtling t’wards the sun.

Manic musings, oh so clear,
Bipolar is a bitch to steer,
These words have passed my lips before,
Though wide awake, I’d sooner snore.

Manic musings, oh so rough,
I know I’m made of tougher stuff,
But when the crazy sucks me in,
Compliance is my only win.

Manic musings, oh so loud,
My mind rejects the screaming crowd,
That echoes in between the lines,
Where trauma lurks like twisting vines.

Manic musings, oh so fast,
I’m cast ashore with broken mast,
Spinning off the earth’s delight,
Emotions swelling up with fright.

Manic musings, oh so terse,
I dance between the vowels and verse,
Forever witty with dismay,
Insanity the price I pay.

Manic musings, oh so deep,
I stand amidst the castle keep,
And still my shouts of raging rhyme,
Will thunder till the end of time.

© The Complicated Bunny – 09 May 2023