Another Encounter with Crimson

(This is a poem I authored during the first few months of my battle with both severe bipolar disorder as well as OCD that will take me unto the sunset of my life. The reference to "crimson armaments" is to the color of my sheets on my bed at all times. Note that while so many people have referred to my work as "beautiful" and "intense," this piece is not beautiful, but it is certainly the latter description.)

Another Encounter with Crimson                            Spring/Summer 2002

Another night this is that I must wrestle with 

the crimson sheets with its crimson armaments 

attempting to mutilate the hell out of me... Hurling 

me into a world in which the black night sky and its 

cold clouds became inundated with its crimson, warm 

ripples - disposing of the Full Moon and allowing an 

already-superstitious populous to know that NO! We 

are not covered by some Vernian-fabricated piece 

of green cheese ... but be that as it may be, I shall 

NOT allow the rippling crimson tides caused by the 

crimson moon howled at by many canae to crush me. 

My resolve is much like a George C. Patton-drilled 

battalion of G.I.'s : I'm on a mission to vanquish the 

wicked, the crimson, once and for all.