sertraline

medication?
more like calcification

the myopic solution
replacing anxiety
with apathy

losing focus
focusing
on what i have lost

my thoughts
circle the drain
both hope and fear
falling in turn

i am lost

a rudderless raft
left to drift
upon a dead calm lake

fog obscures the bank
fog obscures desire

i am far too calm
to stay safe
life and death
seem equally desirable

i drift

cold rationality
the last remaining
life preserver

the small subtle voice
whispering
that this too shall pass
the sun will shine
the wind will blow
and i will have purpose once more

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

i float

the vastness of the ocean
has been replaced
by the safety of a kiddy pool

i float
under a lifeguards watchful gaze
passively accepting
the artificiality of my confines
only vaguely aware
of a time
not long ago
when I could look upon the horizon
and feel the sun upon my skin

memories
of riding atop the waves
both terrified and exhilarated
by nature’s limitless beauty
have been replaced
by the scent of chlorine
penetrating my nose
and irritating my eyes

but I don’t care
i am lulled by the warmth of the water
and comforted by the knowledge
that soon
i will forget
the taste of salt water
and the thrill of that first plunge
into the depth
of the ocean’s
infinite embrace

---

Watch this poem on YouTube

This poem is from the book, ‘Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

apathy

there is something
uniquely terrifying
about watching your emotions
dissipate before your eyes

witnessing the fear
of your fear falling away
itself fall away
into the abyss of apathy

leaving nothing
but a gentle malaise
and a question
you don’t care enough to answer

is it worse
to feel pain
or to not feel anything
at all?

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

The Point Of Trying

What’s the point of trying,
When my efforts leave me crying?
When my thoughts circle dying?
When I think everyone is lying?

What’s the point of trying,
If my bravest act is complying?
If it’s the deepest truths I’m denying?
If even greatness is unsatisfying?

What’s the point of trying,
When I’m constantly self-denying?
When a simple conversation is terrifying?
When depression is positive identifying?

What’s the point of trying,
If angsty poetry is all that I’m supplying?
If my mental state is all I’m edifying?
If an internet like is the peak of gratifying?

What is the point of trying,
When my legacy will be horrifying?
When my body will be mortifying?
When the result will be mystifying?

Yet I am trying.

Trying to be the one supplying a way to express the horrifying. Cause there is no denying, the thoughts of dying are mortifying, but also mystifying and strangely gratifying when you find that justifying the days spent crying, or self-denying, or complying, was purifying.

When life feels unsatisfying, there is something edifying, in identifying with the terrifying. Processing and magnifying, focussing, and occupying the stupefying underlying processes of the mind.

Perhaps the point of trying,
Is to begin the process of purifying
Is to enable present moment occupying
Is to deny the darkness justifying.

Perhaps the point of trying,
Is to promote hope magnifying.
Is to reveal your truth underlying.
Is to heal from trauma stupefying.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

So Why?

if all I want
is for each day
to end
quickly

why
do I bother
waking?

to do
just enough
to afford a bed
and the drugs
to keep me
there

---

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Stupefied

I sit
Stupefied
Seeking solace
From shame

The silence
Is no longer safe
Secrets seep
From the shadow

Slowly I find myself
Surrounded
My sanity siphoned
Into stillness

---

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Empty

Sitting
In the sun
In an empty field
My head
Too heavy to hold

I numbly
Weep
For the life
I was too afraid
To live

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Poetry from a Dark Night of the Soul’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

but a feather

i am but a feather
drifting between worlds
forced to float
on the whims of the wind

perhaps
one day
i’ll be allowed
to rest

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Trying

Here I am,
Trying once again.

Trying to create something beautiful,
Trying to glimpse eternity,
Trying to distil a moment.

Here I am,
Trying once again.

Trying to impress,
Trying to state my worth,
Trying to be something more.

Here I am,
Trying once again.

Trying to reconcile talent with torment,
Trying to balance fun with functionality,
Trying to see the ramifications of reality.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Lickety-Split

I wanna quit
I’m just not with it
Feeling like shit
Feeling like a misfit
An unfit and unlit hypocrite
In need of a refit

No longer with the energy to commit
Unable to continue sharing my wit
Unable to continue to submit
Unable to fulfil his holy writ

A social counterfeit
A fool with his brain split
Someone who’s no longer legit

Some kinda halfwit
Rolling without a permit
In need of a babysit

I’m unfit
An empty tool kit
A horse without its bit
A victim that’s gaslit
A plane without a cockpit
A radio with nothing to transmit

Guilt that’s impossible to acquit
Pain that I can no longer omit

Not without a wrist slit

Not without a friend to get close-knit
Someone that allows me to admit
All of my turmoil and bullshit
Someone with the necessary grit
To make the darkness sunlit
Someone that won’t just split
The moment I fall into a pit

If that’s you, please send help, lickety-split

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

Obsession

Using words for expression,
A curing pain session,
My inner mind’s compression,
With anxiety, rumination and depression,
It’s an obsession,
A self-destructive messin’
Around, with pills or a knife,
Ideation of death is rife,
Friends and family feeling my strife,
I got them worried ‘bout my life,
But I am fine,
Words help me shine,
No longer stuck in a confine,
Like a farmer’s favourite bovine,
That’s escaped the plot,
Mental clarity I’ve now got,
Pen in hand, my afflictions are shot,
Now I’m free to write my own plot,
Dream following,
Ego swallowing,
Heart opening,
Pain forgoing,
With a pen in hand,
And paper I brand,
Myself anew in this land,
Here I stand.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Words On A Page’

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, or Audiobook.

Waste A Day

A wasted day,
Mental health gone away,
I don’t want to stay,
I wish there was another way,
In constant dismay,
Life’s all work no play,
Never enough pay.

//

I want to play with you,
Find a place to lay with you,
Spend the night and stay with you,
Waste another day with you.

I’ve seen you slay,
And have it your way,
Made the boys pay,
Taking them as you may.

---

This poem represents the range of my mood. I was written over two days: the first half when depressed, and the second half when hyper-sexual.

I wanted to use the same words/rhymes to represent the two contrasted emotional states.

---

This poem is from the book, ‘Bound To The Wings Of A Butterfly’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.