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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 bothPainful 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


Anabelle