In the realm of the bipolar bear,
A vibrant world of thoughts, ideas so rare,
Manic moods that soar and flare,
A symphony of wonders to declare.
A mind unshackled, words cascade,
Punctuation, grammar, in parade,
Wisdom from a lexicon parade,
Eloquent, articulate, unafraid.
Unleashed, a dog that bounds and barks,
Alive with love, igniting sparks,
In manic states, the fire starts,
To conquer worlds, create fine arts.
The mysteries of life unfold,
With crystal clarity, stories told,
No challenge vast, no truth untold,
The bear, a hero brave and bold.
Cocaine rush, euphoria's thrill,
Boundless energy to climb life's hill,
Six hours of sleep, a hunger still,
Each day anew, a dream fulfilled.
Manic bursts like fireworks bright,
Cosmic revelations, sheer delight,
Yet cautious of the precipice, the height,
Nirvana's edge, a fearsome sight.
Seventy percent, his favoured state,
A balance between manic and sedate,
Ninety, a risk he dreads to take,
Would brakes suffice, or would they break?
For normalcy, a fleeting guest,
The bear savours his manic zest,
And though the fall may bring unrest,
He cherishes the times he's blessed.
In life's grand scale, the pendulum swings,
From highs to lows, the universe sings,
The bipolar bear, a creature unique,
Embracing life's spectrum, daring, mystique.
Another version · 2
In the realm of the bipolar bear,
A world of ideas, with much to share,
Answers to mysteries, they unfold,
A story of mania, to be told.
Words flow like rivers, swift and clear,
Punctuation, grammar, no need to fear,
Eloquent speech, animated and bright,
A mind unlocked, taking glorious flight.
Like a dog unleashed, a release so grand,
A love for life, too vast to be planned,
Joy abundant, obstacles fall,
The bear conquers all, standing tall.
Crystal clarity, visions align,
Cocaine's high, a feeling divine,
More hours needed, the days too short,
Sleep's a luxury, a last resort.
Awakening early, the feeling remains,
Manic state loved, despite its strains,
Dreading the day it slips away,
Exhaustion looming, to dismay.
Depression rare, normalcy near,
Even keel, what others feel,
Manic moments, frequent and dear,
Relishing their return, a force so surreal.
Fifty percent, the normal for most,
But seventy, the bear will boast,
Ninety percent, a cosmic dance,
Fireworks, explosions, a hypnotic trance.
Another version · 3
In the realm of the bipolar bear,
A dance of dreams, a world so fair,
A surge of thoughts, ideas to share,
A carousel of life's grand affair.
Unfettered mind, the words take flight,
Pristine grammar, spelling right,
Eloquence that charms the night,
A torrent of wisdom, taking height.
Unlocked, unclogged, a mind set free,
A dog released, in parks to spree,
Love for life, boundless glee,
A crystal clarity, a jubilee.
No obstacle stands, no mountain tall,
The bear, empowered, breaks down walls,
Achievements grand, on him they call,
A zest for life, a thriving thrall.
Cocaine-like rush, an endless race,
A chase for time, a boundless pace,
Six hours of sleep, yet still ablaze,
Each dawn, a hope, the feeling stays.
The manic bear, his heart adores,
A state he wishes to restore,
A fear of falling, drained and sore,
Yet rarely touched by gloom's dark door.
On even keel, his normal found,
A balanced state, where calm abounds,
Seventy percent, a joy unbound,
Where life's delights in him resound.
But ninety percent, a fireworks' show,
Explosions bright, a cosmic glow,
A step from nirvana, a breathless woe,
The fear of no return, the brink below.
Like speeding cars, a thrill untamed,
Three hundred clicks, a wild refrain,
Would brakes suffice, or fate be claimed,
The bear ponders, unashamed.
In the dance of the bipolar bear,
Is a tale of highs, of dreams laid bare,
A life embraced, a love affair,
The whirl of emotions, a journey rare.
Peter Pickering · Bipolar Bear