Tag: mental-health

Posted on

Kingdom of Ancients

When I close my eyes, there’s a place I go,
Far beyond the dreaming sea,
Where the calm still waters ebb and flow,
And ancient druids call to me.

There’s a great circle of sarsen stone,
Arranged to greet first solstice light,
Where ancient secrets of the earth are known,
And shared with followers draped in white.

In a lake of wonder a lady sleeps,
Clutching a sword upon her breast,
The water hides the tears she weeps,
Waiting for her King to begin his quest.

I open my eyes, and I’m back in my own skin,
I no longer feel the sickly weight of panic,
I’m calmed by my kingdom of ancients within,
And my thoughts are now less manic.

The mystery dreamland calls me now,
As I try to stop my eyes from closing,
I write this verse through furrowed brow,
Time to sleep and stop composing.

Excalibur the Sword by Howard Pyle (1903)
Posted on

I hear my train coming

I’ve tried every day, but I’m cut to the quick,
Everything angers me making me sick,
With worry, with hurt, or with such sorrow,
For a world with no future, I’ve no hope in tomorrow,
I’ve had enough, and my own time draws near,
Soon it’s time to say goodbye to all I hold dear,
Although I love them, I just can’t stay anymore,
Every day I feel worthless, like I’m cast on the floor,
Of life’s editor suite, who doesn’t think I’m a good fit,
Removing my worth and my life with one simple snip,
All the love I have given, and the little I have taken,
Leaves me here with no ticket, stranded on death’s train station.
With this one-way ticket, there is no coming back,
For my journey is over, and this train is out of track.

Posted on

A Thousand Dreams

A thousand memories, and a thousand dreams,
Hurtful ingredients adding sound to my silent screams,
Too long buttoned up, and for too long held down,
Battling imagined usurpers hunting my imaginary crown,
I fight alone through wastelands left barren,
Used and ridiculed, my mind is starved, left to famine,
After those who sort something from me all drank their fill,
I remain here in the dark, fighting apparitions still.

To save my heart and mind, I must be completely withdrawn,
I seek peace as I grow older, used, battered, and travelworn,
I lick my wounds, and I try to heal deep scars left within,
Those unseen by the world, not those left on my skin.
All these wounds that I speak of have come at a cost,
They are not badges of honour, but evidence of those lost,
Too many friends and loved ones have now left this place,
Leaving me unequipped to cope with the world that I face.

You read this now in a time of turmoil and of inner unbalance,
Where I drink poison to assist paying unknown psychological penance,
Filling my need to be numb, to fake happiness, to no longer care,
A thousand emotions, from a thousand thoughts I can’t share,
About things I can’t change, nor do I want to bring back,
From the lifetime of sadness, I’ve carried on my back.

Posted on

Panic in the Dark

A Darkness Comes

A second darkness falls with the night,
Slipping behind my eyes from the afternoon shadows,
A thick, greasy film that stinks of fear and sorrow,
It’s a foreign invader, the embodiment of sickness,
Although symptoms are common, at night they feel extreme.
It comes when I’m alone, painting fearful images.
No matter how I try to cope, the torment continues,
It enters my sleep, and pours in thick black nightmares,
Voices tell me I’m dying, whispering sweetly in my ear,
A pain here, a cough there, it has me in its icy grip,
The only thing that combats it is company, distraction, or morning.
Tomorrow it will regroup and return with a vengeance,
For another night of torment, grief, and torture,
My mind can’t rest, the darkness feeds on fear,
I’m not alone, millions of people greet this stranger nightly,
But that doesn’t help me when I’m struggling to sleep,
Where it pokes, prods, and toys with my emotions,
The morning light banishes the beast, forcing it to flee,
Until we battle again tomorrow night, for control of me.

Posted on

Path of the anxious mind

Forest walking,
Self talking,
Rain falling,
Birds calling,
Breath taking,
Hands shaking,
Alone feeling,
Strength stealing,
Anxious being,
Death seeing,
Tree crashing,
Claws slashing,
Teeth biting,
Beast fighting,
Blood dripping,
Mind tripping,
I’m dying,
Anxiety lying!

Posted on

On the Road Again

Well, here we are again, a new day, a new week, a new outlook,

The back of my mind wonders, ‘more from of the same old handbook?’,

There is a self-expectation that things will be better this time,

But each new day seems more energised than this mind if mine,

So, I make coffee, I pen these words, and I start to feel better,

I shuffle, not run at my morning, coffee’s the fuel in my carburettor.

I’m like an older car now, that takes more effort to start each morning,

I need to start with low revs, to avoid a red engine light warning,

I must be gentle and kind to my brain or I’ll suffer for it later,

Because there’s no roadside assist if I drive myself into a crater.

My engine’s still ok, but the bodywork certainly has a few dents,

I’m practiced at my job, and I can deal with what it presents,

I must remember I’m an older car now, and not a young spaceship,

So I strap in and slowly set out on this week’s mental road trip.

Posted on

At Day’s End

I need a quiet place in my mind where I can be free,
Where there’s room to grow if the anger lets me,
I’m not a monster or an overly complicated man,
I just have my own problems, and I cope the best that I can.

When the night comes dark and cold, and I lay here awake,
I’m invaded by negative thoughts that I cannot shake,
Morning comes, no change of mind, no great revelations,
Just trains of thought leaving their inhospitable stations.

I even try to distract myself with guided meditation,
But my thoughts are so loud all I get is frustration,
With all this negative thinking, I’ll never be content,
Because at day’s end, it’s with my thoughts alone I have spent.

Posted on

Bottoms Up

There’s a numbness and confusion upon me this morning,

Racing thoughts now follow, last night’s poison absorbing,

To feel human, to laugh, smile, and feel unrestrained,

Were the weak excuses that lead to this morning’s shame,

But today that numbness and guilt weigh on me like stone,

So, I’ll do my best to write a few words to bestow,

How I felt yesterday; angry, ugly, frustrated, useless and old,

And I gave in, drank the poison, and swallowed the story I sold.

Posted on

The Disconnect

There is a new barrier between us, 

I built it to protect myself. 

I use this numb armour, 

So I won’t feel hurt any longer.

The disconnect has happened,

I exist outside of the world, 

Outside of the pain you inflict, 

No more will you have control, 

No more will you hurt me,

The disconnect has happened,

I exist outside of the world.

The Disconnect is an 11 minute ambient-mechanical-heartbeat soundscape that I recorded and released in early 2024. Based on this poem, the soundscape was supposed to represent the separation of the physical and mental human self, into a colder, more emotionless robotic form that could cope better with regular human interactions.
You can check it out on my Bandcamp page.
Posted on

How do we get past broken?

How do we get past broken?

When we can’t quite locate the injury,

Sadly, it’s not the heart, that’s for poetry,

It’s hidden in a secret place,

Somewhere so deep we cannot trace,

We cannot get passed broken,

Because we were never fixed.