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*(My first villanelle poem on what it's like to be manic when you have a mood disorder that's better known as "manic-depression" or "bipolar disorder."):

Intense pleasure comes from going manic:
it's like a rush of endless elation
from the stuff of dreams that is fantastic.

Feelings and loins ablaze and orgasmic,
I'm prostrate with this randy sensation,—
intense pleasure comes from going manic?

Desire builds, then runs wild and Jurassic
and hunts for racy gratification
as the stuff of dreams that is fantastic.

To burn with unrestrained lust is no picnic,
but the sheer highs of this mad expression
mean dark pleasures come from going manic;

like being one with God and the Cosmic,
or saving the world as a blessed vision
with the stuff of dreams that is fantastic!

So, call me mad or call me poetic,
but this disease is now my salvation:
intense pleasure comes from going manic,
for the stuff of dreams is most fantastic.


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The following comments are for "Composed in Quietude on the Eve of 8 May 2018"
by Apple

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