CONFESSION TIME

Hi there, 
I'm afraid I've not been in a 'chummy' mood for some time. 
[ Issues too close to home, you see. ]
I've not wished to be cryptic. 
At the same time, talking at length makes me feel as if I'm simply complaining.  
But never mind.
Another 5-7-5 extended haiku...

'DARKEST HOUR BEFORE'

It's 'coming out' time: 
I'm the sad long-time victim
Of a Narcissist. 

Trapped for many years
In an invisible box; 
I'm tired; I'm ashamed. 

In other bad news: 
OCD has played its part
In keeping me weak. 

An inmate for life? 
Is this the final chapter? 
Or maybe there's more? 

I am no hero; 
Greatness is not my buddy; 
But could we still meet? 

Never rate too low
Intestinal fortitude: 
The Power of Grit. 

With sheer force of will
Perhaps I can still achieve 
The impossible?

 

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THE PRISONER?

Six verses; six syllables a line...

'STUDENT OF SAGACITY?'

I've been trapped in a cage.
But until recently
I hadn't seen the bars. 

I've been utterly blind.
But until recently
I'd thought my vision sharp. 

I've been drowning in tar. 
But until recently
I'd believed I could float. 

Older, sadder, wiser?
At least the middle term
Remains open to change.

Eyes open to the light: 
Is it ever too late
For illumination? 

Thinking on this question
I say now, loud and clear: 
Never. Never. Never.

 

WAKING THE VIVACITY

So what about January, mes amis?
This month's been awfully chaotic for me. 
Can't deny it.
[ Mostly circumstantial, though. ]
However -- I'm still optimistic. 
This month will be the worst month of 2O18.  
So there. 


'ONE OF TWELVE'

Talking in riddles?
Parading my woes? 
Speaking in a deep shade
Of sweet purple prose? 

Spending my own sweet time
Treading that fine line
Between self-expression
And self-obsession. 

Sweet January blues; 
"Dreary" is my situation.
But I'm not choosing
To spread the desolation. 

Today was a bastard
And tomorrow will be cold.
But the future? That's mine: 
I'll transmute it to gold. 

Blog me some blogging; 
Fight the good fight. 
Step by step upward
Towards joyous light.

 

THE ODE TO RECOVERY

Inspired by yesterday --  
A Monday dedicated to waiting:


'HOSPITAL CAR PARK'

Impatient pacing. 
An urgent uncertainty.  
Elongated time.

Wellness from illness? 
Hating high-risk surgery; 
Endless afternoon. 

Grim grinder of teeth;
Fingertip table-drummer.
Finally? All clear.

Something to sup, now?
I'd prefer a pint of air. 
Bolt for the exit!

Drinking in deep breaths;
A large, luxurious calm. 
Doom? Another day.

 

WASTELANDS

SOMETHING'S ROTTEN IN THE STATE... 

The rancid Queen scowls
On her decaying throne
Of brittle-dry bones.
A realm in bloody chaos;
Us peasants drinking in the pain. 

The kindly King? Sickly. 
Sour reward for age and indulgence.
His ennobling, enabling nature
Approved a new reign of terror.
And now? Eaten alive. 

He spends gentle days wasting away
Like the fisher-king of Carbonec; 
The foulness of his fat tumour
Reflected in spasms of hatred
Throughout the putrid land. 

No chosen one? No miracle? 
No Perceval? No Galahad? 
Don't you trust the storytellers: 
Life's rarely as romantic
As they - or we - would wish. 

Without a beacon, I stagger
Boozily thru the stinking streets;
My throat dry from anger
I hesitate to state:
"Long live the Queen." 

Tyranny always ends? 
We can only hope for hope. 
Now, I do all I can: 
Placing one trembling foot
In front of the other.

BRUTAL SUNDAY SUNSET

'UNDER FIRE'

Why
Can I not treat myself 
With the kindness 
I show to my friends? 

Why 
Is my grief, anger, anxiety 
So relentlessly shameful
In my own mind? 

I do not like
Asking these questions,
Let alone contemplating 
The merciless answers. 

If circumstances were different
My mindset would be A-1 Healthy.
But they're not 
So it's not. 

SCREAM silently; 
Lie to those around me: 
A bad but effective way
To limp to the end of the day.

A LONG WAY FROM HOME

Cruel summer; nearly ended. 
Home truths? They're here.  

Too much toxic stress 
Freshly squeezed into too few weeks. 

Psychological abuse? I know now.
It's right here in the family. 

Late last night, exhausted,
I looked into the mirror. 

A hushed, tender voice
Spoke softly in my mind:

You're a long way from home. 

What's meant by this? 
Something I need to work out.

But, in spite of blog absences, 
I'm here to stay.