Bipolar Utopian (Dear Mama) Maman, j'te l'ai déjà dit, j'te dois toute ma vie, et au-delà de ça, tout c'que j'dis et j'écris, ton petit prince est devenu un beau roi, j'sais que j'ai pris trop de voies, mince, trop de choix en meme temps, j'hausse la voix dans mes complaintes quand j'te parle et ca t'desempare, j'vois l'blême maman, mais n'y crois pas, c'est pas moi ça, trop d'choses qui s'passent dans ma vie, et j'ai pas besoin d'autres avis j'ai déjà l'mien, et j'sais que c'que d'autres disent c'est pas bien, mais j'les pardonne, alors j't'en prie, pardonne moi aussi, but also please believe in me when I tell you that I will not fail you, you walked in the wilderness of Hells when you raised me, but mama raised a Hellraiser like Tupac Amaru I will turn them into Heavens & praises & reverse all the sorrows like legends that were never made or meant to manifest until distant tomorrows, speculative science fictions borrowed from Aldous' island, Cats cradled calmly & silently in my arms, that's Alice, Cheshire & Absolem & the MadHatter is a friend of mine also, he's a slam artist, I know you thought my father was mad too & you'd rather I didn't have any more tattoos but what are moms for honestly, it's actually cool to think we have that much in common, we're both doctorate scholars & feminists, & activists too, but im utopian & you're dystopian that's the difference, & Im also non-binary in gender like the Hindu god Vishnu or Krishna, we're all humans yes, but humans are mutant hybrids meant to be limitless like vivid epiphanies, believe me when I say this, I don't need Western propaganda or drugs I have mantras and Love from my God(desses), I know I have a lot on my plate and its oddly dismaying to watch me eat such a feast & still fast half the time, but that's meditation and balance, & that's what my rhymes can offer to sedate the violence in my mind, don't worry if I talk & do too much, there's a lot in the universe that's too much for you to clutch for the moment, & watching along the road that we walk for lost souls is not inappropriate, clutch this, helping others is helping your soul to grow in purity and substance, I assure you that what I muster as a scholar is more than enough, we are not cut from the same cloth metaphorically, yours at the moment is not made to drape forgotten pagan deities of Martian omens of Order & Trust watching us and praying, you are a brahmin like my father Brian Iorga, I am a Sadhu Kshyatria, I am a mythological offspring, I do not dwell within Time or this society's constructs of lies, do not mind that I seem like I belong in an asylumwhen you read these thoughts in my lines, I do not, psychiatrists are crude impostors, who'd of thought I could school them proper when they thought I was a ghoulish monster, like that quote that I told you before, “The mystic swims in the same beautiful waters drowning the fools & psychotics”, so these gifts that I give you let them sink in & soothe & calm you as esoterically uninclined and indifferent as you may be, truly & honestly, mine is not a sullen mind, nor is it crazy, I was born to be the being that you made me as a baby & raised me to be, so now that you see me shining, do not try to dim the light of my brightness I pray thee, remember you authored it and praised it when you thought I was naught but a dreamer and a gazer & you watched me eat one grain of rice at a time till I was sated, the days of my crazes in Gwada & China are long gone, I have gone through all of my mind's mazes & I am conquering & talking to all the monsters I find pacing, I'm aligned with ancient philosophies that far predate Socrates & vedic thought, I am an apostle of the Pagan Goddess & I am bringing her Lost doctrines back to the Christian Godhead like Shadia Drury disproving & chastising the so called Saint-Thomas Aquinas, & I ought to be grateful for all that you gave me that made me into the archangel my father saw when he watched over my cradle as a baby, & truly I am, because you made me into a dutiful man, a beautifully mythical androgynous being rather, & I promise I will author my dreams, madre, all is not always what it seems, Alma Mater