Tag Archives: mind

Walk in the Wind

I took a moment to

walk

in the

wind,

It took hold of my limbs
and danced me to the skies,

An invisible guide

that found its way
inside my mind
and whispered,

“It will be OK”,

Showed me there’s another way,
That there will be another day
beyond this night,
That it’s all right
to sometimes hide away,

To secrete my tears amidst the rain,

To stifle sobs until they fade,

To mask the pain,

Because a walk inside the wind
clears the cobwebs of all sin,
clears out

e    v     e     r     y     t     h     i     n     g

and muffles all their din
so I can let the right ones in,

Reset,

Restart,

Rescind,

so I can win.

 
 

Photo credit: Radu Voinea

 

Inspired by the dutch word uitwaaien:

uitwaaien

Terror Dactyls

Poetry,
o how you
flow from me
endlessly, mare
of the night you
creep in like
the dead,
I can’t
sleep without
words – flapping
bats of insanity –
taunting me,
haunting me,
dactyls of
dread,
their
profanity
coking the fires
of artistry, scorching
their rhapsodies
into my
head.

 

 

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem that addresses itself, or some aspect of its self. As someone who suffers from insomnia, I find that often a word, a line or concept for a poem will come to me in the dead of the night. It is never actually welcome at that time, but that fact seems to be irrelevant….! And if you hadn’t noticed, the poem is made entirely of dactyls (aside from the last word), a term that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since the day 11 challenge!

Jetsam

Unequivocally,
My favourite place to be
is free
of all things sensory,
Where it is, quite simply,
just my mind and me,
Suspended in a reverie,
Where I’m floating on the deep dead sea,
Or drifting aimlessly
down the great Yangtze,
Sculling soundlessly
between existence and something heavenly,
Where I can jettison anxiety,
Clear out every bit of life’s debris,
Shed the front I allow the world to see,
And for an aeon that’s, sadly,
momentary,
I can just be
me,
Unequivocally.

 

napowrimo2015Today’s prompt was to use a writing exercise to help you write about your favourite place, room, person etc… I didn’t use the exercise but I did write about my favourite place: alone… in my mind!

White Noise

napowrimo2015 It’s day 4 of NaPoWriMo and writer’s block / stage fright has kept me silent thus far. Here’s the piece that finally broke through……

White noise,
Unmuted angst
scrambles through my mind,
A crackle of the ghost
of the rhyme
I’m trying to find,
Blurred vision,
pulsing temples,
There’s a heartbeat
in my dome,
Like a drumbeat
in the darkness,
Amidst the mental throes,
A word?

A word.

A word
and then there’s two.
And then a torrent gushes in;
Tumbling through the spume,
Stampeding vocables,
irrevocable,

Must let the right ones through.

But the screen flicker is too grave,
Blink rate breaks,
Fatigue pervades,
Backlit pixels like tiny lances
joust with mental waves,
Time to power off,
Back to basics,
Back on course,
Ink on paper?

Ink on paper.

Ink on paper
lulls the noise,
Words become poised,
and now they hush,

(Shhhhhhhhhh)

Now they rush to form
a ordered queue,
Stanzas stand in single file,
Chaos funnelled and subdued,
White noise has slowed…
White noise has ceased…
Brain has calmed…
Brain has peace.

Happy Place

In my happy place
is where you’ll find
the detritus of my soul
my mind
has ruptured
and its capillaries pour
– with every ebb –
waves of life into the cyber void
and snag
– with every flow –
the single threads
that once wove my soul
into the fabric of this time
and there you’ll find
not a person
but a shadow
a whisper from behind the screen
unstitched
unhinged
unseen
the remnants of a being
tightrope walking
this way
that way
unbalanced
yet perfectly
formed
inside this tangled web
in this expanse
of ink as flesh
and pixelated sinews
stretched
beyond composure
barely clinging
yet still winning in
the war that none can see
the devil’s greatest trick
is the mantra
of this disease
the anchor
in this melancholy scow
a vessel that is empty yet
somehow
so full of
bitter truths
and weighed down
with lies that lie untold
secrets will unfold
if the question’s ever broached
until then I’m all alone
in my happy place
because no-one
ever knows
just how to
ask
just how to take a
quick
yet monumental
peek
behind the mask.

Heartsickness

It’s no surprise
that when you look at me
with your steely eyes
they reveal to me
the malefic lies
that, I have come to realise,
epitomise
the dulcet ways in which I despise
the totality of your disguise;
Adeptly kept,
But it belies
the dreck your mind and soul comprise,
The loathing in your voice implies
a heartsickness of epic size
that will catalyse
our love’s demise
and leave me here
to crystallise,
And though it’s all just so unwise,
And though it would be ill-advised,
When you look at me
with those steely eyes
and vapidly apologise,
I fill lamentably with butterflies,
Common sense need not apply,
Once again I’m hyptonised
and each and every wicked lie
is freshly, neatly, trivialised
and once again I compromise,
So of course
it’s comes as no surprise
that, when all is said and realised,
this is all that qualifies
as paradise
here in our lives.

Chameleon

A chameleon,
Ever blending in,
No-one’s seen my original skin.

I can be your friend,
Readily pretend,
And I lend myself to any trend,
To be just like you,
Be exactly who
I deduce that you would want me to.

And it keeps me safe,
It’s my hiding place,
But if someone dares to glimpse my face,
Then I disappear,
Choose a new veneer,
Reinvent myself and persevere.

So many faux mes,
As I’ve fought please,
That I’ve gained a certain expertise,
But I’ve switched design
one too many times,
And no longer know which one is mine.

Image Credit: Liu Bolin, “Angela Missoni” (2011), Courtesy of Eli Klein Fine Art, New York

Clock Blocked

Tick, tick, tick; the sound resounds,
A hammer in the still of the minute,
Tick, tick, tick; a knife that can slice
through thought and all that’s in it.
It’s all that lives as silence swells,
Its tendrils choke my mind,
Every word I’ve ever learned
is filched by the lilt of time.
And this temporal tune that haunts me
will be the dirge for all I’ve penned,
For I can hear nought but tick, tick, tick,
And fear I will not write again.

 

Ever get that feeling when you need to clear your mind, or concentrate on something and all you can hear is a clock ticking? And the more you try and ignore it, the louder it becomes?? That was me today as I sat down trying to write a poem for my one year blogiversary. And instead of something celebratory, this is what came out – thanks to my blasted kitchen clock!

Essentially I got clock blocked 😉 😛

Brain Storm

It’s raining inside my head.

Pouring.

I can feel each drop
as it cascades through my mind
forming translucent sheets
of icy coldness,
sharp as knives,
that flood the echoes of my consciousness
while a cackling clap of thunder
drowns out
every
rational
thought.

Then a sudden bolt of lightning
illuminates a cavern
in the corner of my memory
that I had taken to be lost.

And in the unrelenting rain
that has now shaped a spiteful sea
and amidst the harrowing
rumble
of the storm,
that fleeting flash of light
found a minute memory
of you and me
that was vague and long forgotten.

But still it pulled me to its harbour
into the eye of this great storm
where it held me in an
unexpected calm.

All that chaos
all around me
and I found comfort
reminiscing
in an us
from long ago.

And in that eerie respite
at the centre of this tempest
I found my
peace.