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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue of cc&d (v242) (the March / April 2013 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Guilt by Association cc&d 2013 collection book		get the 374 page Jan. - June 2013 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Window Of My Soul

David Michael Schmidt

face pressed firmly against the smooth cold window
squinting my eyes to sharpen my focus
trying to absorb all that can be seen beyond the glass
a thin layer of melted sand flattened carefully
in large sheet and placed inside a wooden frame
I view a complexity of electrical impulses
and I try to comprehend the thoughts within the maze
my brain captures billions of messages and stores them
in random layers and it is my challenge to try to access
any given thought at any given moment
just beyond that glass partition that holds my ideas
and my plans and desires, my wishes and dreams
my deepest anguished cravings, my most guilty sinful fetishes
my lofty ideals and my unfilled lost loves
that all but drowned in a lake of tears
I wander aimlessly down the millions of aisles
that hold my all my personal library
but there is no index or collated table of contents
my thoughts are laid out on shelves and heaped into baskets
and bins and boxes of various shapes and sizes
like someone just discarded them for the moment
an unorganized collection of a hoarder
of junk and meaningless trivia
nothing is ever filtered for substantial content
it has all been auto saved
the good, the bad and the ugly nightmares that haunt my dreams
nothing is spared, like a voracious monster
that will eat anything that it comes in contact with
my mind is a porous sponge that soaks up ideas, because it can
anything my eyes witness or my tongue tastes
my ears hear and my nostrils smell
all uploaded as fast as the impulses can travel
like lightning before a summer rainstorm
before I can even digest the content it is already filed
how much more can my brain hold
no one knows

there is always room for more
my window fogs over from my warm breath
as it contacts the cool glass
I wipe the window with my sleeve so that I can see much better
I can picture my thoughts but I cannot touch them
they exist beyond the window
I have a unique talent that is also a curse
unless I can see in my mind’s eye
the route I need to take
I cannot get there
I have to visualize it all
and I can see it all like watching it on a TV screen
but without that picture
I am lost

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