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Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips

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

 

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.

 
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Poetry, burn these pages Zachary Phillips Poetry, burn these pages Zachary Phillips

The Cave

Once
When I was a young boy
You yelled at me

Objectively
It wasn’t much
But it was enough

That night
I built a cave
Inside my mind

One that overlooked
A lake
Whose water
Perfectly reflected
The beauty
Of the nature
That surrounded it

The cave was secret
And strong
And safe

The lake was still
And soft
And serene

I quickly learnt
To hide in that cave
And to gaze upon the water of the lake
Loosing myself
In the reflection
Of a false reality
Made real
By fear

You never yelled at me again
In fact
We never really spoke
At least
Not about anything that mattered

As you pulled away from me
I found solace
Sitting in the cave
Whose creation you inspired

I’d look at the lake
Wishing
You’d appear
Wishing you would
Say
‘Son, won’t you come swim with me?’

But you never came

Later
When I left home
You didn’t fight for me
You didn’t speak or even acknowledge
My absence

But you did leave a mark on my mind

That cave
Is now haunted
By the silent screams
Of the words
You left unsaid

And that lake
Still has ripples
From the rocks
We never thew
Together

The beauty of nature is obscured
By your indifference

And
I no longer
Have anywhere safe
To hide

 

Once
When I was a young boy
You yelled at me

Objectively
It wasn’t much
But it was enough

That night
I built a cave
Inside my mind

One that overlooked
A lake
Whose water
Perfectly reflected
The beauty
Of the nature
That surrounded it

The cave was secret
And strong
And safe

The lake was still
And soft
And serene

I quickly learnt
To hide in that cave
And to gaze upon the water of the lake
Loosing myself
In the reflection
Of a false reality
Made real
By fear

You never yelled at me again
In fact
We never really spoke
At least
Not about anything that mattered

As you pulled away from me
I found solace
Sitting in the cave
Whose creation you inspired

I’d look at the lake
Wishing
You’d appear
Wishing you would
Say
‘Son, won’t you come swim with me?’

But you never came

Later
When I left home
You didn’t fight for me
You didn’t speak or even acknowledge
My absence

But you did leave a mark on my mind

That cave
Is now haunted
By the silent screams
Of the words
You left unsaid

And that lake
Still has ripples
From the rocks
We never thew
Together

The beauty of nature is obscured
By your indifference

And
I no longer
Have anywhere safe
To hide


This poem is inspired by the book, ‘How To Write Evocative Poetry’.

You can read some chapters from the book, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

In Your Absence

 

I can’t quite express
The confusion and the mess
That’s been left
In your absence
Why didn’t you confess
The demons that had you possessed?
Why couldn’t you
Escape the thoughts that had you depressed?
Why was this the only way you could address
The aspects of life that you detest
that had you dispossessed?
Perhaps if you got some of it off your chest
The world wouldn’t be one man less
One man that blessed it with his presence
Now all who knew you are left to digest
News of death’s caress via a self-inflicted process
We can’t protest
We can only attest
To the pain and existential unrest
Of the hole your life has left


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.

 
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Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips

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.

 
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Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips

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


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.

 
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Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips Poetry, dark night of the soul Zachary Phillips

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.

 
Read More
Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

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.

 
Read More