I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “mental illness

Take My Heart, Please


 

drawn-broken-heart-abstract-art-2

a broken heart – pinterest

 

For it is in your hands,

the soft sweet sensual

nature of her demeanor,

a smile that fades in mind.

 

For it is when we do know love,

the ache inside our body

is enough to want to

stop the motion of life itself.

 

For it is in this my tears,

I try with all the strength

in my soul,

to understand the freedom.

 

For it will be forever,

my heart in its organicity

always remembers,

always bleeds a tear.

 

For it is the silent melody

of a broken heart,

with no mend,

only a haunting silence.


A Valium Haze


Easier this way,

a silent low

wishful in some secondary manner

allows the primary

to forget just where reality belongs.

 

Oh to have that passage,

the one where

all worry, concern or reason

would suddenly matter

not at all.

 

Too far beyond the norm

to have to wonder

any more

if there were reason to ever want

to belong with …

 

She is the beauty in his mind,

as the haze will eventually,

leave no remind

beyond the initial recall

fade to black.

 

 

 


Feeling Isolation


It is sometimes not a choice,

this element of a stationary hold

on moving forward.

A desire, a passion, a sense of drive,

suddenly sedentary,

asking for little in return,

yet the payoff is frightening.

 

While standing in the middle of a storm,

sometimes wishing to be caught,

whisked away like a piece of dust,

no longer apparent,

just a brief tug on someone’s imagination,

maybe nostalgic,

a sweet reminder

of a different time.

 

How often is it they never really knew,

the leftovers,

a salad with every favorite spice,

and yet

the element of taste

is its final departure.

 

When long ago,

I first gained consciousness,

I remember this immediate sadness,

I cried for many hours,

holding on to a memory,

a lasting storyline

that after awhile,

rather soon really,

it bored my closest allies,

or so they seemed,

and I had to let it go,

yet we all know love always returns.

 

I suppose if I let the notes continue to

dance upon the keyboard,

I might suddenly realize,

perhaps soon enough,

or maybe …

there is a purpose in feeling,

in responding to the emotional drain,

in gathering strength,

in overcoming.

See this is the apparent flaw,

that part that only wishes to dull the pain.

Where is that urgency

to step up the dopamine.


Deceptive Isolation


Have you ever really looked,

studied expression beyond a comment,

the quiet afterward,

if you could be inside that bubble,

how soon would despondency return.

 

I’m asking a question,

I already know the answer,

because it always returns,

despite my effort to want to move forward,

it’s the questions, the unknown,

the desire to feel wanted,

and then everything goes to hell.

 

Have you ever wondered if a person’s frame of mind,

is solely built upon interaction,

what if you put them in the words,

with an assurance of human isolation,

how long would they last before they decided,

nature might be the best solution.

 

Next time you wonder,

take a moment,

realize your impact is far greater,

than you might quietly ever imagine,

in the space of your own reasoning.


When Driven By Words


Have we been replaced?

the crumpled being in the corner mumbled,

to a jury of peers

who in quiet realize,

believe they will never allow themselves …

 

Yet his clothes are shabby,

the same pinstripe with a Jerry Garcia tie

pink button down oxford, and well-shined shoes,

he possessed years earlier,

during that last summit,

the day he resigned from today’s society.

 

Still, no one wonders where he is,

why he became,

how a life can turn beyond,

the normalcy of the human condition.

The new normal some might argue,

he might argue,

she might not care anymore,

given all the energy she spent defending

a frame of mind,

he no longer understood, or chose to wonder …

 

The idealism in surprise,

the beauty of spontaneity,

the sacrifice of one’s own belief system,

in order to complement

The Man.

We are all too easily duped

by pretty sights,

and warm surroundings,

to such a degree of departure,

we sometimes do forget …

 

the crumpled man in soft murmurs.


Facade Aside


Inside my surface, I’m afraid to go,

in there where passionate embrace

belongs defined,

exists a monster of deceit,

part of me that always leaves me,

in cold sweats after a morning

waking in a nightmare,

not yet knowing,

I’m glad to be alive,

not where from I just came,

yet,

somehow I never let the truth reveal,

an internal pain,

this part of me that is real,

that though you think you know,

there isn’t possibly a way for them to ever understand

the real …

I know someone will say,

we all act that way,

each part of our humanity relates in the same way,

yet,

Is it true,

do you walk around thinking death out of the blue,

does your life seem to be that of a marionette doll,

the ugly sort,

not the painted elegance of a dream,

a nutcracker fantasy,

with a happy ending.

Instead does the wood seem hollow,

with a certain trip of the master’s control,

could the damage be,

so exposed,

the world might see.


My Schizophrenic State of Mind


I don’t mock the mentally ill,

If I did I’d be a hypocrite,

I’d be the one that had the will

to walk right past the sick and dying.

I don’t mock the people that cry,

when their lives seem chaotic and dry,

I’d rather be the soul of pity,

the guy that didn’t need to know why.

Yet today I do have to wonder,

how often my mind becomes just fodder,

a schizophrenic sort of state of mind.

i’m certain there are no voices,

none that I’d ever let you hear,

but I know the conversation,

the screaming inside I want to wrench

right out of my head with a …

metaphorical bullet.