I don’t mind the freight
train sound in my ears
anymore that long-gone
lonesome whistle, the backbeat,
the rushing air chasing
someone’s thoughts.
I got used to it.
I don’t even mind
that SOB in the attic night
after night bellowing persuasion–
I’m nothing, maybe he’s just
preaching to the flock,
maybe he keeps me humble.
I’m used to him.
And when the sirens break
the tedium like candy
glass so regular I could set
the clocks by them,
I don’t mind. They remind me
there are worse things,
they make the clocks tick.
I’ve gotten used to them all.
Not the darkness,
the one curled up like storm
clouds in my mind and the other
one that pushes the world
away like a bad dream I once had.
The dark has no time,
no shape, no feeling.
The dark wants no friends,
no familiarity. It wants me to be
quiet now. Surrender.
4 comments:
Powerful. Great imagery, for some reason I can really imagine a certain setting and scene with it.
Has a very serene and calm flow.
Thanks for the kind words, Josephine. Honestly, much appreciated.
A friend who read this one asked me if anyone who wasn't suffering from bipolar and my other assorted mental difficulties would get it? I told her I didn't know.
Now don't tell me you're bipolar too or I'll have to tell my friend she was right. :)
Haha, no I'm no bipolar. It must be hard living with such a confusing mental disorder, but perhaps a good source of inspiration for your writing?
This poem turned out great because of it...
Somehow I missed this poem. Anyways I found it now! First thing I have to say is that the title doesn't do the poem any favours. You are right there, such a title is quite perplexing judging from the profoundness of the poem such a title could be deemed frivolous or somewhat cynical. I am also not too sure of its use in the poem. Perhaps because it breaks the poem up somewhat especially the imagery in the middle of the stanzas opposes the voice of the beginning lines and the end ones. Maybe it's just me but there seems to be two voices there.
I really like this though:
[i]Not the darkness,
the one curled up like storm
clouds in my mind and the other
one that pushes the world
away like a bad dream I once had.
The dark has no time,
no shape, no feeling.
The dark wants no friends,
no familiarity. It wants me to be
quiet now. Surrender. [/i]
It is great, I can feel the heaviness, the darkness that cannot be visualised and yet it can.
Perhaps that is the juxtapositioning of the 'i don't mind' bit when you really do mind, but can't pull out of it and a realisation is made that there is no more strength to resist and that it is easier or better to surrender. Nice bit of meaning there. Thanks for this ;)
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