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Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Traitorous Need



Traitorous Need

Funny people
Sunny people
Bright button people
Engaging people
Sad people
Happy people
Needy people
Needed people
Hopeful people
Hopeless people
Lonely people
Cherished people

Around my muffled pocket of headspace they spin
Weaving and chasing their lives
Near enough to touch, and yet so far away.

Watch them. Feel them.
Take them into your inner mind's eye.
Make from them what you can.
Wonder....

How must it be to feel worth
Value
Use
Belonging
Needed rather than in need?

How must it be to be wanted
Cared for
Safe
Held
Needed for your needs?

What are the words?
How are they said without being said?
Heard without sound?
When will I know?

As saving grace veneer drops harshly away to display
older
weaker
faded
less than
heavier
tedious
inadequate
undesirable
Driving deeper into alone
Until nothing is left.

And just when hope should finally be damned,
Why does traitorous need then raucously scream
stronger
louder
desperate
lonely
A constant cutting razor sickness pain?

So small the cure, and yet so huge;
The command that simply says, "I care".
The look that says, "You are not alone".
The, "I have your back and will keep you safe".
So little and yet so much
Can warm the heart and heal the soul.

So little for others........
Everything to me

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Just Dreams.....



Just Dreams.......

Sometimes I just cover my face;
Close my lids and travel through space.
Twisting, turning; silver soft aura,
Mercury slowly, gracefully streaming.
No more tears; no fears; no ugly yearning
No razor blade of sadness seeking my eyes
No pain shadow trapping my psyche  
No more broken and ripped apart
No more silent screaming into the dark.
Bathed in the halo of a healing starlight.
Yielding up whole to the perfect trust of 
My inner submissive soul.

Sometimes (no, always)
That coldest of Dominants, who calls Himself "Reality"
Shakes me hard back into the land of Everyman's Life.
Forces my hands clean away from my face; 
Shines unforgiving raw light into my opened eyes.
Tears away dreams and security in one rushing swoop.
Shoves me out the door and slams locks it behind me.
Leaving me to fight and claw my way
Back through the bloody battle of 'Fend for Yourself'.



Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Trust


Trust

Trust is.....
The small things.
The word in confidence
The private aside
The expectation of understanding
The glimpse of the photo.
The shared secret things 

Trust is......
 the big things. 
 The unconditional
The embracing arms of the circle
The warm waves of comfortable pleasure and belonging
The comfortable tranquillity of the psyche.

Mistrust is...
The small things.
The guarded and too carefully chosen word
The sotto-voiced murmur
The arm's length
The just seen careful glance
The things just barely kept from seen.


Mistrust is the huge things.
 The chilled and lonely fringes
of Just-Beyond land
The nagging worry of why.
The needled thoughts
picking and thrusting at the peace in your belly.
Bidding for heart.
Forcing up the tide of sadness
Drowning pride and self respect.

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Words said...

Words said...

Words said...
are diamonds...
Things of beauty
Nurtured by space, earth and time.
Carefully fashioned, honed and polished to perfection.
Given and passed on in love.
Words said...
are life.

Words said...
are diamonds...
  Shattered into lethal rock hard splinters.
A thousand razors of cold hard betrayal
 
Tearing through trust and security,
Lodging deep into hearts and souls
Where they can never be removed.
Words said...
are death.

Friday, 10 June 2011

Untitled....




Would be climbers from dark deep places; clawing, kicking, pushing, pulling, dragging,
Fighting in vain to get out of the depths.

Ears full of cloudy black cotton wool silence.
Brain screeching popping yelling , swooshing screaming, never ceasing,
violently ripping and yanking at the peace.
Mouth fear smog dried.
Throat choked with some kind of filthy itching soot.
Head hurts, night frights, shaking hands, heart pounds; sad and threatening memory ghosts.
Can't quite touch, bitter tears, no one hears, restless dreams and terrible things .
Psyche soaring, wailing screeching,
a lonely single jaded gull forever circling and seeking in the empty wastes of night.

Would-be climbers from dark deep places; clawing, kicking pushing, pulling, dragging,
looking for the light.

Day breaks. Ghosts fade. Heart slows.
Hardly glimpsed treacherous hope filled dreams
escape through desperate air clutched fists.
Drum kit in head playing way too loud. Feel a bit sick. Tongue all furred.
Lids puffy, eyes blurry, hardly seeing
Joints really hurt -
must be getting old.
Bathroom beckons; wash it away.

Mask on. Barriers up.
Eat, drink, walk , talk, listen, smile, laugh
Empathize, sympathize
Don't want to do it? Mouth tight shut and suck it up.
Feel a need trying to rear its head? Stamp it, tamp it, ram down the lid and hammer it home.
Yours is the good life, self-centred bitch!
Control it, hold it, keep it in. Batten down the hatches. Lock those doors.
Yours are non issues, so keep that scream right inside your selfish head.
Listen and learn what REAL troubles are.
Call out the troops, protect from fire and cover that back.
Cushion and provide for every possible fall.
Wrap them, warm them, support them, surround them with care
As soon as they are comfortable, step outside.
Head well up and stiff upper lip
There's no cheese for that whine, so shut the hell up.

I need a new computer......



I Need a New Computer......

I need a new computer -
Cos this one got old.

The case is all battered
And faded to grey.
The hard drive's overloaded;
The memory's slow.
The mother board is struggling;
The graphics card's tired.
The speakers are dying
And it doesn't swtich off.

I need a new computer -
I need a new head.

Thursday, 9 June 2011

The Epitaph


The Epitaph

"She was strong and she coped"
They put it on her gravestone.
The dead never lie, so it must be true.


But.... she..... was:

Kicking, screaming
Out of control;
Alice down the rabbit hole.
Tumbling, twirling,
Life unfurling
Clutching and grabbing
As she went.


Like...shadows...they...passed
Over her head
Unseeing, unthinking, unaware

They put it on her gravestone.
"(Right till she hit the bottom),
She was strong and she coped".
The dead never lie, so it must be true.