Creator / imaginer: Dabbler in art, literature and sound.
After the senses are confused by a fool’s interactions,
Recovery unveils a sombre, but clear new outlook,
Clarity shows, the best that you could do was not enough,
Wasted energy, thought and emotion, time lost to futility,
Unseen efforts in vain, understanding comes from a life lived,
Some are reminders of truth, in a world fabricated for coping,
Others take, some listen, but we are all just ghosts of our past.
Today I try to seek calm in turbulence,
Find respite during confusion,
Sleep, because the night failed me,
And peace, despite its detractors.
Don’t put your words in my mouth,
I see you, what is your endgame,
Don’t bend my words to fit your purpose,
My expression is my own, know your station,
Don’t assume we’re even on the same platform,
This bullet train takes no passengers.
Some days I wish I could go to bed and just evaporate, it’s a useless fucking world to be a part of.
I’ve noticed that the older I become, the more clumsy and weak I get, I repeat fucking stupid things and keep doing it.
I repeat the things I say so often without knowing who I told them to, until I my wife tells me she’s had enough of hearing the same fucking thing over and over, I feel like I’m losing my mind.
Time has zero relevance, I feel like I’m floating mid air on an elastic time continuum, one day it is Saturday, and the next it’s a week later on a Thursday and my name is now Jim.
This shit is never going to get any easier.
Spare a thought for today,
As it relentlessly endures against the odds,
Battling ice, sunshine, and storms of wind and rain,Â
Cast into service, eventually succumbing to darkness,
Enslaved, doomed to repeat it all again tomorrow,
Spare a thought for today, for it’s a lot like you and I.
It’s 1am, I don’t yet wish to go to bed and dream,
In the next room I can hear my wife breathing as she sleeps,
I’ll join her shortly, but I need to clear my mind first,
I’ll sit and type, and wait for my eyelids to get heavy,
I need to put myself right at the edge of sleep first,
I’ll hit the pillow, and my eyes will find the ceiling,
There I will lay, not quite asleep, not quite awake,
In a few hours I’ll drift off and relive my day in dream form,
I’ll recap it now while awake, and see how they compare,
Today I vegetated watching a Grand Sumo broadcast,
While large men were thrown from an elevated clay Dohyo,
I played video games and gave my brain some escapism,
It’s 1:20am, my body aches, my eyes sting, the edge is here,
Time to bring another Saturday to a close and retire to bed.
Time to step from the edge of sleep into the ocean of dreams.
Part poem, part journal entry, a great way to make myself tired.
Is this something you've tried before? I rarely like to recap a day, but doing so informs me that I was in control of myself and my surroundings. Sure it's a rather brief and tedious days coverage, but it was just the ticket my brain needed.
You put on your daily mask.
You nod.
You smile.
You pretend.
All the while,
You are drowning in quicksand.
It rises slowly,
Climbing from your feet to your chest,
Until it reaches your ears
And the world falls silent.
Everyone you know,
Everything you love,
Becomes distant and muffled,
As though viewed through dark water.
Your eyes reveal a panic
That your voice cannot express.
Soon, the quicksand covers your face.
Your throat fills with filth.
You suffocate in silence.
A crushing weight settles upon you,
Pressing down on every thought,
Every movement,
Every breath.
At last, you can no longer struggle.
You simply lie motionless,
Suspended in a cold black emptiness,
Numb,
Yet still sinking.
There is no comfort here.
Even in the darkness,
Something continues to pull you deeper.
And somehow,
You are expected to endure it all again tomorrow.
This is depression.
Autumn arrived this morning, cold and desolate,
Frost blankets the garden, as a blue sunny sky laughs above,
I feel my own depression today, it’s heavy, like a weight,
I try to connect without success, I ache in every joint,
Verbal communication seems difficult, I feel gagged,
It’s a work celebration day today, it took months of effort,
And I couldn’t be more emotionless towards it all,
I’m a relic of past days there, my presence feels like irritancy,
I could be more sycophantic, be the yes man they like,
But I no longer have the energy, the place is a necessary cell,
I feel cold inside, like the leafless trees of Autumn,
Why can’t I shake this melancholy, life has no substance,
I reminisced about childhood with a friend yesterday,
And could only remember days of sunshine and simplicity,
Backyard cricket, BBQ, bikes, pets and outside fun,
I’m sure reality was very different, but now, all I feel is empty,
Life today is the numb cycle of existing, it is unrewarding,
Work, pay bills, still be broke, have bad sleep, repeat,
I feel blindfolded, grasping at the warmth of life past,
There’s beauty outside my window, but today it feels frozen,
And the past looks warm through my rose coloured glasses.
Let’s stay here for a while,
Away from the crowds and sounds,
Sit with me in quiet warm sunshine,
Hold my hand, and know I love you,
If I have gone, this is how to find me,
Sit quietly under a fine tree,
Gently close your eyes,
Scrunch your toes in the grass,
Feel the breeze on your face,
Can you smell the garden around you,
Are you hearing the sound of birds,
Take a breath, and smile in the sun,
And I will be right beside you,
We can sit for as long as you like,
Although I can’t hold your hand,
Know I loved you.
I have lost my way,
My identity has been removed,
I feel nothing, my sight is blinded,
I’m numb, my passions lay in ruins,
Time flies at a relentless pace,
Can I exist, until this block passes,
When will art return to these hands,
To again be creator, and not an observer,
Will I dream again the way I once did,
When will I stop being so afraid,
I’m not the imaginer I once was,
I feel dissected and laid out,
Like an insect pinned to a board,
A facsimile of what was once fierce creativity.
Dan Verkys 