Tag: reflection

THREADS OF AN OLD LIFE

February 4, 2024

they told us to just

“go back”

like it was nothing

and everything was going

to be fine.

and it would all be

“normal.”

“let’s just get back,

y’know,

to the way things were.”

and what way is that,

exactly?

run into the ground.

weak.

exhausted.

completely burnt out.

although,

i did try

at first,

to simulate

a life vaguely resembling

the one I remembered.

gathering those

old threads

to weave

into something

new.

but the result was patchy

and threadbare.

what was once deemed

beautiful, now ugly.

something else was

mixed and woven

into my skin.

and the more i

resisted, the more it

pulled and tugged and

bled, as i refused to

accept the foreigner

that was squatting inside

me like a toad.

dark days realised.

but i needed

leverage to reach

the blue dome above.

and to land on jagged

rocks at the bottom is often

the only escape.

you can always look up

when you’re down

and witness the vast

expanse of

studded stars.

poem #28

May 23, 2021

night owl

it comes at night.
i love the nocturnal silence.
when it comes to me
and takes hold!
only daylight is my saviour.

i do not mind the bland
paint job on the wall.
or the dull, worn out carpet.
the sepulchral surroundings
comfort and ground me.

i am a daydreamer.
my head whirling with words
that find their proper order
in the starkness of this room.

poem #24

April 11, 2021

shame

i look to you
for validation.
to do something.
or nothing.

to take it back forever;
press the reverse button.

we handle it,
by not handling it,
says the voice.

my anxiety hops inside;
like dried beans on a table
jumping during an earthquake.
a familiar tightening,
a squeezing grip - 
a closed fist in my chest.

i feel
there is something
i should be doing.

i seek forgiveness 
that i do not deserve.

i remember you,
and worry what you’ll think.

poem #23

April 4, 2021

the hierophant

a solitary hermit am i,
in a dark cave i do reside,
whilst they come to me in strides,
so i might flatter all their pride,
with the wisdom i’ve acquired.

so long ago since i became,
a much sort after humble sage,
who dwells here in his lonely cage,
whilst the people send me endless praise,
for their spirits that i do raise.

they seek me always for advice,
on love, vocation and their life.
they want not truth nor painful strife,
for truth can cut just like a knife,
so i just sing them sweet delights. 

“you sir, i see, shall be a king,
and adorn bright golden bejewelled rings.”
to these falsehoods they will so cling,
and hang off every word i sing;
oh the happiness my words can bring.

merrily they’ll dance and skip away,
without making a second’s delay,
to tell the others of their day,
and how the fates have finally swayed,
and life’s debt to them shall soon be paid.

oh when will these small humans learn,
life is not responsible for their return,
on everything that is not earned,
and into my old mind be burned,
all the falsehoods that i have churned.

poem #3

November 1, 2020

mirror

 how can one succeed
 when you look in the mirror
 and like not what you see?
 is there no rest
 for those who run after
 that which is less?
 if i could remove
 the part that does lack
 what would become
 of a heart that turned black?
 and is there a way
 to turn back the clock
 and somehow regain
 that which is lost?