Dazed and Confused

By Anabelle Kleinberg

What's down there?

What is that species I see? Why are they attacking?

Why are they killing?

Why can’t they let us be?

Throwing things at me.

Attempting to break my outer shell.

My rock like outside does not shield me.

My smooth and flavorful white insides tempt them.

Climbing towards us,

Making their way up,

Slowly and timidly.

They eventually make their way up,

Eating my family.

Thankfully I am the runt,

Small and empty

Nobody wants me,

To eat me,

To take me.

I guess for once being forgotten is a blessing,

Thankfully ignored.

Why do those things want us?

Can't they see

Can't they see

We are alive,

Cant they see?

Stop throwing rocks at us

Stop scooping our guts out

The supple juice that spills out

It is not for you

Cant they see

Can't they see

We are alive

Cant they see?

“I have never been lost, but I will admit to being confused for

several weeks.”

Daniel Boone

Lost is a royal blue blanket

Nowhere to go

Nowhere to run

Nowhere to turn

“I’m lost,” I say

But no one can hear

No one is here,

It’s just me and this royal blue blanket

All that surrounds me is opaque scenes,

Opaque scenes of

Royal blue

Of royal blue blankets

No tares

No rips

No patches

Continuous blue

Endless threads

Nothing to lead my way as I fold this royal blue blanket

No sense of direction

Nowhere to start or end

I struggle continuously

Fighting a battle against a blanket

Folding one way and another until I must begin once again

Numerous attempts,

Each ended with failure

There is nowhere to go,

I am surrounded by opaque scenes,

Blinded by color,

Lost

Is a royal blue blanket

“I'm not confused. I'm just well mixed.”

Robert Frost

I remember that day

That day in summer

That summer morning

That long morning in June

I remember

The smell

Of sweet, sweet lavender

Smooth and tender

I remember

The taste

Of spicy cinnamon

Sharp and vicious

I remember

The noise

Of creaking wood

Ancient and retired

I remember

The sight

Of the sunrise

Renewing and blissful

I don't remember

The color of the flannel shirt you wore that day

The day the sun beat down on our backs,

Filling our bodies with heat and warmth

Memories jumbled,

Some over powering others.

Dazed and confused.

I don’t remember the feeling of safety

The way you would lead me in the dark,

As we made our way home.

I cant quite make it out.

The feeling of having you by my side, the company.

Ah ha

I don’t remember

You

“I've been immersed in it too long. My spirit is wobbly and my

mind is confused. The hurt has become too great.”

Ernie Pyle

They call me 84 Plus…

TI-84 Plus

Graphing, adding, subtracting,

Multiplying, dividing

And simplifying for those unable to comprehend mathematics

Ooh

Aah

How? Why? When? Where?

Children awe at my skills

My mysteriously confusing abilities

It’s all in the numbers, I say

Functions, inverses, and equations

I express this to the close minded users

But no one hears,

No one listens

Speechless and unheard

I continue my work

It’s a lonely life as a calculator

Long hours and no rest

Slaving away

Rational, irrational, there is no resting

Integers and prime numbers,

All that jazz

What is it like to be a human?

I wonder and I imagine

Dazed and confused.

But nothing seams realistic

What is life if it is not the life of a calculator?

All I know,

Is that the life I lead,

The life of entrapment,

Is occupied by slaving away and being thrown around.

I am Lost and found,

Dazed and confused.

What is love?

What is hate?

Are they not the same thing?

You hate to love, and love to hate.

Going hand in hand,

Breaking bones

Or even

Breaking hearts?

Rooting from love,

Ending with hate.

But what is this thing we call love anyways?

And hate?

Bipolar emotions,

Confusing my senses.

Influxes of emotions:

Smitten and ripped.

The after math of both-

Painful and continuous.

Never getting rid of this feeling of pain.

What is love?

What is hate?

Are they not the same thing?

“I frequently hear our present period described as uncertain,

confused, chaotic.”

George Crumb