Openness

tremors
Posts: 8,051
Fragile centre
Like the clam to the shell
Open the box
Inside like wax
Melting, freely, (not too freely)
Fragile indentation
Please don't be so rude
You left your muddy bootprint
All over us
What once was sealed
Must be reopened
Some day
And the only way
Is soft like putty
Draw some blinds
Find a safe place to hide in
Give yourself time
Like the clam to the shell
Open the box
Inside like wax
Melting, freely, (not too freely)
Fragile indentation
Please don't be so rude
You left your muddy bootprint
All over us
What once was sealed
Must be reopened
Some day
And the only way
Is soft like putty
Draw some blinds
Find a safe place to hide in
Give yourself time
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention

Send my credentials to the house of detention

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Comments
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Twisting daggers
How quickly the mood turns
With a phonecall
You always know best
We're just too alike
My heart compassion fatigued
How I'd love to wish you well
But how I wish to let you go
Still there must be something in there
Lurking
There's always something behind the sting
I try to find it senselessly
And pictures more gracious start to tug at me
Like the faded-glow ghost ship
Sailing still black waters
Lines stretching onwards in the night
Meaning in pictures
That haven't yet come out
My ghost ship rides alone
But you
You
Have a scratched knee from the thornbushCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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Cosmic ordering@thedigital laundromat
Chuck in detritus
Lock the door
Add a hefty dose of truth
Don't spare no dirt here
But keep the central vortex
Clear
You can stand well back
Or lean on this machine
It doesn't care
But you will vibrate
And what comes out
when the door is opened?
Run too hot and bleeding colours;
Run too cold, still festering in shit
But set the dial right and they guarantee you
What comes out
It's always newCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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I've got nothing to say
Especially about whatever it was
Separation to the nth degree
This ceiling they call mind
Blew away years ago
And something else came in
The unspeakable without boundaries
It used to scare me
- I never knew if I'd come back
Today it just bores me
I've come back one too many times
Today I don't fear the ceiling
Or its open skies
Today I feel this feeling
Go high but parachute back down
The pills help I guess
The first time they got it right
All those years and all that money
To try and turn me into someone else
(I resist)
My mind I'm afraid has outwitted the best of their doses
I took them but refused the inertia, refused the stammering, refused the lock down
Rose above it
I learned to fight that right down inside me
And when I finally got my life back
I took charge of its decline
Believe me I tried to fight them at the time
Tried to stop them putting it down my throat
I guarantee you they have means
To break your will, break your body, break you down
There really is no escape
But how come I'm the only one of them that knows
Knows what this did to me, to my self
The struggle
The daily struggle
And now they've got one
That almost seems my friend
I guess it must have slipped right through the net
This rage at my annihilation
By chemical, by force
Still burns on
One day I'll break something good
And then they'll know.
But mind still flies
Beyond that ceiling
Tears still cry
And years pass by
The thing I'm trying to put my finger on
- Is the infinite terror of the really loose mind
I told you it bores me
They lined up every demon
And I took on each one in turn
Now
I can soar
I can float back down
I can talk
I can cut through that fog
My heart though is beating
Just waiting for my prey
I've a long sighted rifle
And I'm biding my time
So well trained; fury so well contained now
That I'm almost forgetting my target
But when I see them I'll know it
Click, click
and goneCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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I won't forgive them
They made mistakes
and had me bouncing off the walls
Last year
Cutting the throat of my own family
with their razor
Tripping every night
I in my solitary room hearing the raindrops abuse me
In plain English, clear as the day
But the worst thing is
They never listened
Never listened once
Me, scared shaking, terrified and tripping
I tried to tell them
I tried to tell them
'You're ill'
No
- Your mistakes cost me my mind
A tiny voice
Disappearing down the plughole
It's petrifying
Me, alone, having to work out what was wrong
It was the others who told me
Don't take that shit man, it messes with your mind
And so it cost me everything left in the tank
To work out how to tell them
I cursed everything senselessly
I didn't sleep for months
They didn't believe me
A simple mistake
But the crime is they don't listen
They never listen
They sleep safe, so far away, and know better
I tried to tell them
I tried to tell themCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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sonofabitch
what happened to you
did this happen to you
what a trip to the dark side
for sure
exquisite writing
jaw dropping reading
fuckfuck 'em if they can't take a joke
"what a long, strange trip it's been"0 -
chickweed wrote:sonofabitch
what happened to you
did this happen to you
what a trip to the dark side
for sure
exquisite writing
jaw dropping reading
fuck
Yes it's all happened to me unfortunately!
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tremors wrote:chickweed wrote:sonofabitch
what happened to you
did this happen to you
what a trip to the dark side
for sure
exquisite writing
jaw dropping reading
fuck
Yes it's all happened to me unfortunately!
Thanks for the words
my words are inane and insipid
well, except for fuck
but they are from my heart
take care
gfuck 'em if they can't take a joke
"what a long, strange trip it's been"0 -
I liked the fuck, and the 'exquisite writing' bit!
Thanks lots gCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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i've read these a couple of times over now
and i simply have no words
love them
love your writing
thanks tremors0 -
electricxlovex wrote:i've read these a couple of times over now
and i simply have no words
love them
love your writing
thanks tremors
Thankyou my friendCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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Birdsong
Daylight
Half an hour in the car park
A mother's hand
Fleeting silence
Memory
Of surviving something worse
Fragrance
Blossom
Looking through the doors
Unlocking them
with sheer intelligenceCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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Machine winds down quickly
Hums to a halt
Body dysmorphia
Courage retreats
I look in the mirror
And see ugly old me
The one before they took me
The one before I realised I could fight
The one before a penny dropped
Deep into that night
The night I collapsed
Vacated
Prayed, silent pleaded
Left
Got up and slowly pulled my nine hole boots on
Courage deserting
Faltering flames
Fingers slipping
From all I have gained
Hit me one time
And bring it all back
Make me hard again
I dare youCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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If I ever see his face again
I will tell him the same things I did then
Now the boot is on the other foot
They cannot be repeatedCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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tremors wrote:If I ever see his face again
I will tell him the same things I did then
Now the boot is on the other foot
They cannot be repeated
if the object of this is a doctor
put that booted foot up his hineyfuck 'em if they can't take a joke
"what a long, strange trip it's been"0 -
chickweed wrote:tremors wrote:If I ever see his face again
I will tell him the same things I did then
Now the boot is on the other foot
They cannot be repeated
if the object of this is a doctor
put that booted foot up his hiney
I was tempted to, many times. I gave him the sack when I had the power to do so. He was an evil, incompetent, misguided power crazed fool. There must be something in the training that encourages psychiatrists to become as 'nasty' as possible. In the interim though I have rerouted my career, and am in the process of dismantling the entire profession of contemporary psychiatry, and replacing it with something better. I think it will take me 20 years to pull off.Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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Here is one of the first things I ever wrote, aged about 19 - so 19 years ago probably. I still remember it, because it has a melody attached to it too
Smell of molten tarmac
mingles with the scent of chapatti
We cycle and we're 8 years old
and make it back in time for tea
Looking up I noticed life
will pass you by, insanity
But things were so much simpler then
when it was just you and me
You grew up before your time
and as for me well I'm still trying
to figure out if a wanderer or
a ______ is something that I wish to be
I forget the ending now, and was going to write a new one, but decided not to!Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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tremors wrote:
Find a safe place to hide in
Give yourself time0 -
acrosSShit wrote:tremors wrote:
Find a safe place to hide in
Give yourself time
Hey acrosshit - I have a feeling I will be revisiting the poetry forum in a while from now. Friday evening, always get kinda...... y'know...... reflective.
Hope all is strong with you (somewhere)Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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In the University library
1993
You were gorgeous
In your boots and leggings
I had a yearning
to know you
yearning
It took me weeks
but you let me in
You smiled
You always clutched a cassette player
Tighter than your books
Always had a faraway look in your eye
And the first week I knew you
I asked what you heard
You looked awkward but showed me your ear
It was alive
I didn't think much
But this was the starting bell
For sleepless nights and poems
I wonder if you still have my poems
You were drifting so far away
I was trying to reach you
Trying to bridge your divides
I wrote and wrote into the early hours
A torrent from places a young man
shouldn't have to reach
I wrote through the night sometimes
It was a love, a pain
A cracking up
My innocence in freefall
Your stories made me cry
I just wanted to prove to you
That it didn't have to be like this
That you didn't deserve it
That the way you looked
The way you made me feel
Filled me with
Something
Something good
You were on an ethereal plane
I joined you there
It cost me a lotCancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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Unenviable positions come with first light, the rust in the tonsils, the wool in the head. The first waking hours like cracking off the crust. Chipping away until around 11 o'clock there is breakthrough, and I'm free, I'm me again. The accelerating slide, down a flower strewn hill. Heading for sunlight, light reflecting from surfaces turned inside out. Leaving the stagnant house behind and striding. Forth. Into somewhere. Anywhere but here. Reaching a rhythm, steps and footfall, and bouncing from the pavement, and winding in and out of my neighbours - all set off for something, on a headless chicken mission to 'buy stuff', 'buy stuff', buy stuff. And so I join in. Buy me some coffee, buy me some tat. Sit down and smoke, and then after that? Yesterday on my return I watched the sky burn deep orange, so aloof from the traffic, like a heavenly furnace, deriding our surface. Our surface efforts, our surface woes, daily trials and tribulations - to the furnace.... nothing. It burned onwards, inspiring all who looked. Did anybody look? I gulped it on down before I opened my door. The people I passed, chatting - they didn't seem to care. They talked of their children, they talked of his hair. I wanted to grab them - shout 'look at the fucking sky!'. But I didn't; I smiled, and walked right on by.Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
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