Untitled (labelled as 2007)

An oldie, and probably my most personal poem of the lot. I was a bit of a jumbled mess so excuse if it doesn’t quite add up, but I know it was written in 2007 and was a terrible time. See? I even talk as though i am detached from this work, like i didn’t even write it.

But I did, and this blog is a testament to memory – thoughts and processes are so important. I don’t want to forget painful experiences, so i write about them, even if i don’t want to. I write, as that is all i can do.

Apologies for so much material in one go; I have a lot of work, some a fair few years old that I’m trying to get into digital form.

Was there ever a day when I DIDN’T see this coming?

Is time simply an overlapping of the pain I experience?

There seems a malicious symmetry that I cannot ignore,

As though it is all connected and pulling me in

How to describe, it is always so complex

Keeping yourself together and struggling on

When your body is telling you to give up

And take a seemingly impossible option.

I hear the ringing all around, more often in tune

To a heartbeat that seems a little off

And a spoken voice so clearly wanting more

In keeping with the trauma of standing.

Is there ever a month where my predictions didn’t come true?

My mind is fixated on linking the two

Mortal aspects of experience; Pain and time

Flow with a Rhythm that is hard to find

Except in the darker corner of the room.

Now my mind wanders between confusion

And total isolation. The sequence of why is unimportant;

All the matters is the here and now;

The constant of the improbable plan and execution

If only I could think of a better word.

I always see this coming yet I am always bewildered

At how ridiculous I am when i feel like this.

Emotion of twenty years becomes condensed into;

Hatred – Isolation – fear – confidence

And boils them up to spit at me, constantly.

It is a venom that I understand and comprehend yet,

I cannot control it; that is the biggest fear.

I am spat at with a consistent flow

that overwhelms the possible and makes me

Think like I am outside my own body.

Is there a year when you can feel myself becoming?

I understand that I am what i am – Tragic.

I live for another day; expect to see the time

synchronising once again with my feelings

Creating a void that will corrupt rationale

And bring me back to Earth again.

Blending into freedom (or so he says)

Blending into freedom (or so he says)

It is not the confines of the surroundings that bind him
for that would simply be insane; look –
there are no walls to keep me there and yet
here I am; neither free nor in any form of despair.
Acceptance.

Is there anything worse than capturing yourself?
No guards to patrol the cells, for bars and chains
Are the stuff of nightmares. This surely can’t be;
if he was held captive then would it be known –
Seems like a safari holiday.

Glaciers that shine and blink at their occupiers
can always float away when the mood sees fit –
The guardians have such a weary yet reassuring
Smile. I am dubious at the great deception but
I see that freedom is quite the illusion.

I can stand (which is the standard improvement) but no –
Laying with the anticipation of falling.
Turning while on his back to distance himself
from overwhelming distraction; I think I am
wise to stay exactly where I am.

He comes at me with a look of hopeless obedience –
a time to do all this again, whenever the mood
tells the wind to turn a different direction. Towards
Me? Am I ready to accept the burden of normality?
And I note that I am all alone again.