The hum of the fan heater is the only sound I hear,
The sun creeps, morning shadows cross my desk,
My hands, golden in the light, tap at silent keys,
As the pangs of sleep begin to leave my system,
This morning, I contemplate my creative future,
Following a conversation with a friend last night,
I was urged to push my creative boundaries further,
It was welcomed advice, but I feel some kind of resistance,
My mind seems to be blocking me from creating, but why,
I’m suddenly distracted, thoughts of the work week invade,
I breathe deeply, close my eyes, and try to refocus,
I stare at golden dust particles floating in the sunlight,
I want to paint, I want to create music, I am already writing,
Why is there something blocking me, did A.I wipe out my drive,
Not completely, fun projects becoming work spoiled the fun,
Writing feels easier, I’m less confronted by what I see,
I can type my inner monologue, there’s a freedom in that,
I need to ride my bike, I need to exercise too, I need to get out,
I finally realise how poignant the title of Comfortably Numb is,
It is precisely how I feel, there are so many demands lately,
I feel drained, I can’t be bothered being dragged around,
I’m sure this block will pass, but writing has enabled some output,
It’s low energy contemplation, but it is still healthy expression,
I am comfortably numb, but thankfully, I am not unhappy.
Human Bitrate Fluctuation
I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the black stillness,
I fruitlessly attempt to block all incoming sound and vision,
I enforce meditation, I breath, I count, but cannot focus,
I try to slow the onslaught of rapid fire thoughts,
But there is too much input lately, sapping my energy,
I need to enable some kind of essential power only mode within,
I must act, as the data input rate greatly exceeds my capacity,
There is too much, it brawls to access an already full storage space,
Any rejected data haemorrhages, its packets pour from me now,
Flowing out of virtual gaping stab wounds in my system,
Through my clutching hands, and into an ocean of junk bits,
I try to parse it all, but I am no longer able to, I require quiet,
I seek retreat, recovery time, but the information barrage pursues me,
I try to focus, I continue to breathe, to count, and it begins to slow,
But not fast enough, and I watch as my emotions spiral erratically,
One moment I am activated, and the next, I cannot keep my eyes open,
And as stress digs its concrete intrenchment, my emotions flare,
First, I fight tears, followed by laughter, there is no middle ground,
Confusion, irritability, sadness, then elation, I’m not in control here,
I’m sitting in the back seat of an unmanned vehicle as it accelerates,
I must retreat, I must recuperate, why is this so hard lately,
I yearn for the comfort that isolation brings to my weary mind,
Peace is not fully achieved with sleep, and barely eased by vacation,
So how is this going to,
End.
Light within
I remember when you used to smile,
Before everything became too much,
I wish I could bring back the inner light,
That once bloomed so bright within you,
Before the struggles, before your fears,
Back when everything made sense,
Before the mourning and the tears,
I remember when you used to smile,
Before everything became too much.
Love Labours On
Last night my late grandfather came to me in a dream,
Dressed in the dust coat he wore when gardening,
After planting sunflowers, he was slightly out of breath,
I placed my hand on his chest, and I felt his heart beating,
He coughed, put his bucket down and said my name,
With tears in his eyes, he hugged me, I could smell him,
I could feel his cheek bristles against mine, it was so vivid,
He kissed my cheek and patted my back as he once did,
Repeating my name as the embrace ended, his voice changed,
His Lithuanian accent replaced by one more familiar, as I looked up,
My hand was now on the chest of my father, he was smiling,
With happy tears saying your mum called me, she’s coming today,
I don’t remember the last time I saw him this happy,
Certainly not in the last 31 years since she passed away,
He placed his hand on mine, and told me he loved me,
I awoke, with a tear in my eye and my hand on my chest, alone,
But there was no joy in the dark, only sadness, and mourning,
I placed my hand gently on my wife’s chest as she slept,
I could feel her heart beating, as she held my hand.
Evolving Mr Hyde
Today I forced myself to focus on self-repair,
I’ve recently felt tethered, floating at the ocean edge,
Drifting out further and further, while fraying my lifeline,
I arranged to meet old friends, who inspired me to continue,
To work harder at improving my personal wellbeing,
To stop feeding this widening void I have growing within me,
I have felt quite alone dealing with my internal pressures,
I’ve been angry, feeling that I’m the only one who is suffering,
So, I’ve been poisoning myself to block out all thought and light,
The poison only works for a moment, but it creates more problems,
Like Dr Jekyll, I have been struggling with my own Mr Hyde for years,
My emotions lately are irregular and extreme, ashamed, I hide them,
Stress, tears, anger, self-hate, solitude, alcoholism, self-castigation,
I don’t feel like I’m in control, I have poor memory, I dislike contact,
I don’t want to connect anymore, I feel incapable of doing so,
Hearing today that I’m not alone in experiencing changes, has helped,
I was unsure where this raft I ‘m on was going to take me if released,
I was leaving me behind, one way the other, I was going to drown,
After this week, I am determined to focus more on healthier routines,
To drop the vices that have plagued me, and hopefully improve,
I need to step off the tethered raft, and back onto solid ground,
I must evolve Mr Hyde from self punishing monster, into regular man,
I doubt I still have enough left in the tank to make great changes,
But at this point, any change for good, is better than not trying at all.
Mindstorm
The clouds are clearing from my mind this morning,
I have been lost, in what felt like a sandstorm,
Walking blindly, poorly attempting to protect myself,
Rather than find shelter, I have pressed forward,
Sadly to my own detriment, but that storm is passing,
My mind is a little clearer, and I can see with some clarity,
So now, for the sake of my mind, I am taking shelter,
It took a week for the turbulent seas of my mind to calm,
Unfortunately, that stillness arrives in time for another storm,
Work and personal related stress, anxiety, self-worth,
The perfect storm that we can all easily get lost in,
Getting to the other side without damage, is a challenge,
I don’t like the night, disturbed is an apt word for my dreamtime,
With each new morning, I can breathe, I can take stock,
And I can continue this journey I am on.
Just let it all go
What am I doing to myself lately,
It feels like I’m punishing myself,
Yet I have done nothing wrong,
Everything feels like it’s too much,
I feel an inner struggle going on,
I’ve noticed I’m drinking too often,
Lying to myself that I’m having fun,
While knowing full well that it’s poison,
Drinking to remember, but also to forget,
This poem is a reminder for me,
To catch myself before I fall,
Time for self-care, to better myself,
Pull myself up again, out of this mire,
I feel like I am in mourning, I lament,
The world I once lived in is dying,
Fading away, soon to be forgotten, ignored,
Replaced by unknown new moments,
I just can’t seem to let go of my ghosts,
The further time moves me from them,
The more clouded my memories become,
The faces are erased and they feel so distant,
But the memories persist, like echoes,
Thorns that pierce my mind, bound to me,
Why can’t I just let it all go,
Perhaps my ego fears the truth,
That I too will fade away, forgotten in time.
Masks and Change
Boundaries must be engaged and maintained,
A healthy human distance must be respected,
For, when lines are crossed, all can become blurred,
Where once a hive of focus and creativity existed,
A race began, where disrespect and greed took precedence,
What was once pure, became tainted and distorted,
Irrevocably transformed into something else,
We all wear masks to protect ourselves, to survive,
At work, in love, at play, and even when we are alone,
But it is vital that our original face is seen, for forgiveness,
The real us must be exposed, with all it’s scars and fragility,
When we take off that final mask each night.
Altered State
I’m not what I once was,
I have been altered,
Moulded and repurposed,
My preparedness urge is high,
My mind is fixed on avoidance,
My car is equipped to bug out,
I have two EDC bags that I travel with,
Their purpose depends on the day,
But I never feel ready enough,
Everything hurts lately,
I’m frustrated and stressed easily,
I no longer feel I can retain enough data,
I no longer care for people,
Complete avoidance works for me,
I feel constantly fatigued,
Yet, I cannot sleep at night,
Stress, and anxiety rack my brain,
I always seem to feel on edge,
I feel defensive and negative,
My spoken words exit as a jumble,
I drop things all the time,
I’m a different me now,
I’m not what I once was,
I have been altered.
Dead to me
I feel so frustrated,
Like something inside needs to snap,
But I’m holding it in,
I don’t quite know what it is,
It isn’t happiness,
It isn’t sadness,
It is something else,
Perhaps unspent anger,
Or a lament for days past,
Perhaps for the people I’ve lost,
I think it is my hate for my relatives,
And their flaccid amusement,
Their revolting periodical care,
Don’t feign your amusement for my family,
You disgust me with your weak views,
You are all dead to me.
Dan Verkys 