The Sleepless Night of Imposter Syndrome

Who the hell do I think I am
A writer, so called 
Because I don’t know
What else to be 
An indie author 
Who hasn’t authored 
Something truly new 
In more years 
Than I’d care to count 
A blogger 
Chock full of nonsense 
Obscure film reviews 
Rarely a short story 
Between a smattering of poems   
A poet 
One collection 
Almost a decade old 
Dust covered half-blind words 
Shaken off 
Blown clean 
For fresh ears 
New eyes 
Different minds 
Deciding my fate 
Don’t say they’ll love me 
Stroking my ego 
So it won’t crack 
Splintering 
Shattering 
Into dark reflections 
Of self doubt and hate 
I need to refract 
Redirect 
Swirling thoughts 
Forming them 
Reshaping them 
With a spoonful of delusion 
A survival technique 
So I may step 
Center stage 
Metaphorical spotlight 
Temporarily 
Blinding and enhancing 
My remaining sight 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
2026, John L. Harmon 

______________
Woke up way too early and I couldn’t fall back asleep.  Wild and terrified thoughts running rampant, so I had to rein them in.

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S. I’m excited, and obviously, a bit nervous about the upcoming Homegrown Traveling Series poetry event, happening on September 5th in Chadron, Nebraska.  I’ll be reading a few selections from VISION BENT (half-blind poems)…

Projectile Words

I want to scream 
Verbally explode 
Ejecting my thoughts 
My feelings 
Into the atmosphere 
Fiery and furious  
Repressing nothing 
Then I pause 
Knowing futility 
I’ve pulled this trigger 
Too many times 
Always failing 
To hit the mark 
Rage falling 
Upon deaf ears 
Or they make excuses  
Making me feel stupid 
Feel crazy 
Feel like my voice 
Doesn’t matter 
This time I bite 
My tongue 
Almost in half 
Next time though 
I’ll set the world 
Ablaze 
Calling out 
Hypocrisy
Even if I do so 
In vain 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
2026, John L. Harmon 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  poetry can be repetitive, so click the pic for a similarly themed one… ⤵️ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Poetic Happening is happening soon! 

HOMEGROWN, a creative event at Chadron Open Art in Chadron, Nebraska on September 5, 2026

I'll just be hanging with the current Poet Laureate of Nebraska and other creative minds in September.

No biggie😅 

That’s how I’ve described the upcoming event in Chadron, Nebraska.  I guess I’m bragging, but also downplaying it, like it’s no big deal.  It is a big deal though.  This opportunity feels like my words are  finally gaining a bit of traction since releasing my first ebook in 2013. 

Hopefully I won’t screw it up, but I also hope the attention doesn’t go to my head.  Becoming an insufferable hoity-toity would not be very becoming. 

NOTE TO SELF
I must remember 
The sun shining 
In my direction 
At this moment 
In this place 
During this time 
Is fleeting 
As a smile 
As a breath 
As life 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
2026, John L. Harmon 

Perhaps I’ll see you at Chadron Open Art on Saturday, September 5th in Chadron, Nebraska.  It should be an amazing experience! 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  My readings will primarily be focused on VISION BENT (half-blind poems), which means I’ll be talking about my chunk of vision loss. 

The Word Man (a poem)

Where is the word I seek  
In the sky 
In the breeze 
Lost at sea 
In the gutter 
Buried in grime 
Dirt upon dirt 
No reason 
No rhyme 
I ask The Word Man 
To find one for me 
He opens his coat 
Displaying his wares 
Letters upon letters 
Forming this and that 
Adjectives 
Nouns 
Verbs 
Of all shapes and sizes 
Even a ten cent word or two 
But which is for me 
I plead 
Desperately hungry 
For something 
Simply complex
Or complexly simple 
To describe me 
Define me 
Make me feel like me 
Make them understand 
The me they see 
And the me they don’t 
One word
Just one 
Is all I ask 
The Word Man smiles 
A bemused smile 
Offering up the letters 
Three in all 
Y-O-U 
And it’s the only word I can truly be 
~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
2026, John L. Harmon 

SIDE NOTE: Potentially apropos of nothing, I wrote these words after watching THE BRIDE! (2026), which I was unsure about at first, but ended up very much enjoying. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
My queer words are available from an Amazon near you! 
🏳️‍🌈
📚 

Bomb Shelter Boogie (a poem)

Burning like a neon sun 
Radiating like an atomic missile  
Duck and cover   
As I detonate 
Fulminating in verbal fire 
Billowing blazing words 
Scorching my world  
Venting the pent-up 
Fractured frustrations  
From biting a tongue 
Gnawing it pulpy raw   
Rivulets of crimson 
Pouring down my chin  
Drowning my body  
Until I can’t take it 
Insides ablaze 
Burning like a neon sun 

____________
2026, John L. Harmon 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S. click a title for more radiating words…

Reconstruction 

In Sight 

Convalescent
~~~~~~~~~~~~
My blazing books… 

Buried Knowledge (a poem)

An inkling 
A feeling 
A knowing 
Of the end 
On their final day 
A day of last things 
Last meal 
Last word 
Last breath 
Did they know 
When they awoke 
That this would be it 
They would soon be gone 
Become a memory 
A whispered name 
From another’s voice  
The dead won’t answer 
My shrouded queries 
Holding their secrets 
Tight in folded arms 
Understanding 
The only way to know 
Is to wait 
Wait for my turn 
To gaze deeply   
Into the abyss 
Lifeless eyes 
Forthcoming nothing  
To those next in line 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
2026, John L. Harmon 

Freak Out, 
JLH 
~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
A reading list for 2026…
📚 

reason from reality (a poem)

Sometimes I find myself 
Stuck in place 
Unsure if I should continue 
Writing these words 
What difference do they make 
In a world gone mad 
How can my nonsense exist 
Alongside an overwhelming reality 
Full of psychopaths 
Repeating history 
Vilifying the press and detractors 
Getting rid of so-called undesirables 
Taking over other countries 
While I sit helpless 
Escaping into a world of my creation 
A lurid wonderland 
Where I’d rather live 
And maybe that’s the reason 
To keep going 
To keep writing 
Because someone out there 
May need a break from reality  
Need to escape with me 
Into my weird written world 
For a little while at least 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
2026, John L. Harmon 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  related poems… 

Fear of Past Tomorrows 

On the eve…

Part III 

The New Halloween

Give up the ghosts 
The goblins and ghouls 
Creatures that go 
Bump in the night 
Forget the vampires 
The zombies and werewolves 
Monsters that may 
Give you a fright
The scariest thing 
Of scary things 
Is waiting 
Outside your door  
The news is the new 
Horror Reality Show 
Just sit right down 
Tickets aren’t free 
All you need 
Is to be 
Deceived 
Confused 
Alive  
In the year 
Of our doom 
2025  

~~~~~~~~~~~~
2025, John L. Harmon 

Happy Halloween or something… 🎃 

Freak Out, 
JLH  

P.S. Escape the current reality with a good book! 📚 

For Andy…

His acidic words 
Like a salve  
On my being 
Shouting in hate
Swarming in lust  
Swirling in violence 
Screaming in vain 
Quiets the voices 
Hacking away under 
My volatile mindskin 
Calming what passes 
For a kindred soul 
In this malformed body 
Feeling tethered 
To a forgotten ghost 
Flickering wet night terrors 
Leaving me satiated 
Until the creeping silence 
Becomes severe whispers 
Abruptly intensifying 
Wailing for more  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2025, John L. Harmon 

_____________
I wrote this tribute to late filmmaker Andy Milligan while “songs from a holographic mind” by Matthew Nowik burrowed deep within my nervous system. 

click to listen on bandcamp 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S. click a pic ⤵️ for more Andy…  

Part III (a poem)

What will I feel 
If the unthinkable 
Becomes reality 
Crimson death balloons 
Detonating before our eyes 
Will there be pain 
As my atoms go nuclear 
Turning inside out 
Incinerate into nothing 
Will my final thought 
Be one of release 
I didn’t vote for him 
Not the first tine 
Nor the second 
Definitely not the third 
The blood of others 
On other hands 
I did what I could 
To prevent the 
Narcissistic 
Delusional  
Bigoted 
Self-righteous 
Hypocrite 
From gaining power again.
Maybe my last thought 
My last feeling 
As my disintegrating body 
Becomes a shadow  
Silently screaming 
On the wall 
Should be of 
Blind rage 
Rage against those 
Who wanted this 
Wanted him in office 
Knowing he was unstable 
Shoving his first chosen 
Right-hand man 
Under a bus 
For not illegally 
Calling him winner 
Now no one wins 
Maybe not even 
The only kind 
Of people
Other than himself 
He cares about 
Rich  
White 
Straight 
Christian  
Men  
But with your vote 
You wanted that too 
To cleanse the country 
Of anyone 
Identifying as a 
Race  
Sexuality 
Religion 
Gender 
Different than you 
You knew how he 
Hated
Other 
Humans  
Who didn’t fit into 
His homogenized mold 
When you voted 
This time around 
So don’t play dumb 
In our final hour 
Will you rejoice  
With your last 
Holier than thou 
Atomic breath 
Give thanks to 
Your elected 
Lord and Savior 
For making 
The upcoming  
Post-apocalyptic  
Wasteland 
Great again 
____________
2025, John L. Harmon 

This poem is an expression of my fear and anger over current events.  

Freak Out, 
JLH 

FLIGHT RISK (a poem)

Here I stand 
In between 
An ending 
A beginning 
If the door closes 
Should I open a window 
Take a leap 
To see if I can soar 
Never mind the height 
Flying at speed  
Ground falling up
A million miles an hour 
Brace for impact 
By letting go 
Of what I cannot see 
What I can’t control 
Only then maybe 
I will find me 
Swirled in a second wind 
Leaving behind 
All that has been 
Embracing all I could be 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
2025, John L. Harmon  

I’ve been writing a little each day this month and FLIGHT RISK is one result of this endeavor. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  My 2019 collection of half-blind poems can be found as an audiobook from Audible… 

On the eve… (a poem)

Can’t you see 
Shadows under eyes 
Tears unable to fall 
For today 
Yesterday 
What may come 
In a world 
Full of souls 
Separated 
Isolated 
How can loneliness 
Prevail with many 
Crowded spaces 
Not enough time 
Avoidance is key 
Survival tactics 
Installed within 
Deep distrust 
Misunderstandings  
Abound and surround 
Suffocating intentions 
Without explanations 
Either this or that 
No grey conceived 
No lines between 
Sight narrowing 
Forcing positions 
You against me 
____________ 
2025, John L. Harmon 

Just expressing my thoughts and feelings of late.  

Freak Out, 
JLH 

Fear of Past Tomorrows (a poem)

Shadows of yesteryear 
reverberate through time  
pounding on the door 
official act demands 
lay your undesirables 
on the unclean floor 
round them up 
rejected  
for the alleged safety 
and greatness of all 
once friends 
and neighbors 
loved ones you chose  
to sanctimoniously vilify 
turn against 
dragged away 
disappeared  
from your 
hateful 
homogenized 
nevermore 

~~~~~~~~~~~~
2024, John L. Harmon 

Freak Out, 
JLH 
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Other poems from this author…

A Short Story (a short story, of sorts)

    I stare, glare at the black screen through two pieces of plastic glass.  The white too bright to reflect, refract, magnify my muddled words.  Feeling the syllables crawling, scrawling beneath this growing older by the millisecond skin.  Verbal seeds screeching, reaching for the blinding sight of others to inhale, devour, clatter in their respective collective mindscape.  Fading away fingerprints scrolling through digital pages or tips bleeding from flipping sharp paper edges in a frenzy to discover meaning in nonsense and senselessness in moments.  Watering eyes, tears or sweat blurring lines of fictitious reality and really fiction until the happy or not end is reached, achieved.  My voice spent, digits numb from popping letters into place, trying to place the seen from my head onto the dark screen floating in depth, closer than appears but so far from the soul suffocating inside.  Circling the circles surrounding sighing eyes, unable to see what others claim to see inside out.  Inside me within the lines of a short story that may never come to be.

____________
2024, John L. Harmon 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  Escape reality through my books available from an Amazon near you…