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.
New Upgrade?
I don’t understand the world as I once did,
I feel that reality is far too distressing now,
This new world churns everybody up,
Even what I’m writing now is null prose,
It’s random, reactive, and it’s ugly,
There was a time when I embraced the future,
When did that turn into fear, and isolation,
Now, I can’t bear people, when did I become incompatible,
I feel like I’m made of old PC parts,
I’m old tech, I feel obsolete, yet I still function fine,
But I no longer meet the minimum requirements,
Surely someone out there still appreciates effort,
I feel unsupported by those who once celebrated me,
This is of course 100% my ego, however it still hurts,
So, how do I let the old me go, how can I upgrade graciously.
Will any part of me still exist after the upgrade,
More importantly, why do I now identify as a component,
Rather than a human being.
Father
It’s a cool quiet Saturday morning, a time to think about life,
Still drowsy from an evening of drinks and a restless sleep,
I sit and contemplate the second piece of my puzzle, my father,
The things he has taught me, and how he helped shape me,
Now elderly and unwell, he’s constantly in my thoughts,
He taught me to be a good man, and to work hard for my family,
To be honest, loyal, trustworthy and kind, although some may scoff,
He taught me to help others, whenever they may need it,
To do what I say, and be where I say I’m going to be,
Actions, not words, are the core foundation of being a man,
He taught me to protect and love my children against all odds,
To be tough, yet playful with them in equal amounts,
To pay my bills, pay my own way, and to not take advantage of others,
He gave me the opportunity and tools to succeed in life,
He ensured technology was available for me to learn and live easier,
He did his best to get me here, while carrying his inner pain silently,
His memories are leaving him now, and he seems fragile,
Not the once strong soldier, mechanic, truck driver, builder he was,
A life should be remembered, not stolen from your mind by sickness,
Sickness took his wife, took his hair, but never his dignity or humour,
He has seen and done so many things, and helped so many people,
And he rarely asked for help along the way, but time is a cruel mistress,
And she creates wraiths from mountains.
Overcharged
I am a heated emotional bundle, full of liquid chemical energy,
Every muscle seems tightened and ready to burst,
All body sinew feels electrified, numb and activated,
My skin feels armoured and ready to fight,
So where should this energy be redirected,
There is no enemy,
There is no pressure,
Except from the one writing,
This energy always goes to same place,
It goes to bed.
Jettisoned
I feel like I have been jettisoned,
Newly arriving on an alien landscape,
Here, beings exist that are not of my make,
They behave in a confusing manner,
Their language is untranslatable,
Their beliefs, the opposite of my own,
It is as though each being is a planet,
All squeezed into one tiny galaxy,
With no room for expansion,
No space for personal expression,
No room for creativity,
There is no place for your opinion here,
There is no silence, it is deafeningly loud,
Life is like closing my eyes while watching a movie,
And it rolls on regardless,
This, is now.
Exit Reality
I’ve created worlds with nothing more than imagination and a PC,
Art based solid worlds that to me exist to me to this very day,
One dark, body imprisoning, mind stealing world enslaving humanity,
And another world full of colour and love that exists after death,
Neither is more beautiful, and yet as tragically heartbreaking,
As the real world.
March 25
I woke up in the dark today, and I felt your absence more than ever,
Today, you should have been here with loved ones, like you wanted to,
Laughing at all of my aches and pains as I too grow older,
I am already past the age that you were never able to reach,
What started with a cough, made you but a hazy memory to some,
A washed-out polaroid, scanned in for future generations to see,
I can’t have you on my wall, it still hurts me to my core to see you,
But I will make them all see you, I will make them remember you,
Your face only appears in tired photos, but I still see you clearly,
When I see my eyes in the mirror, or those of my babies, I see yours,
Nothing will ever break me like it did when your time was up,
I lost part of me that cold July day, and it is irretrievable,
New life is arriving, a beautiful brutal reminder of legacy and heartbreak,
You taught me strength, kindness and gentility, encouraged art and poetry,
You were loving, gentle and funny, and a demon in the defence of your family,
Although life goes on, I remember you still, and I say your name aloud,
I keep you in my impenetrable heart, safe and protected, as you eternally sleep.
Dan Verkys 