One of My Clouded Moments

With a bit of luck I won’t have too many of these moments this year but if it does get out of the cage, as it inevitably will, I can hopefully cope with it better. Published back in July this is:

Broken Mind

Brain

Staring at the letters on the page

What do they mean to me?

All I see is a language unknown

Don’t make a blind bit of difference

To how I feel

Brain freeze: Word Blindness: Numbing Ache

I can’t get a break

From my blank moments

Comatose for hours

Coming around seconds later

Glazed, feeling hung over

Bound to a broken mind

I can’t find an answer

Maybe it’s time to just stop and

Give in.

Copyright © JRFC
Image from Pixabay

Here I Am Again

Here I am again

Amused by what I see

Watching those sprint by

Don’t know why

Just a thing I do

While I wait

 

It baffles me

Spending your lives

Chasing the dream

It seems like you live

With heads in clouds

Not looking around

 

Trying to get by

On some materialistic high

And a grunt from the weight

Of all that burden

And the choices you make

Why?

 

Life’s short enough

To worry about that stuff

And wake up one day

Look in the mirror

‘When did the years go by?’

A sigh

 

And a knock on the door

You deplore as you run

Down the stairs

To see me there

As I help you up

From your neck breaking fall

 

Copyright © JRFC August 2018
Image from Pixabay, modified by JRFC

Broken Mind – The Mush from the Hill

First published on Free Verse Revolution, a division of Blank Paper Press.

 

Staring at the letters on the page

What do they mean to me?

All I see is a language unknown

Don’t make a blind bit of difference

To how I feel

Brain freeze: Word Blindness: Numbing Ache

I can’t get a break

From my blank moments

Comatose for hours

Coming around seconds later

Glazed, feeling hung over

Bound to a broken mind

I can’t find an answer

Maybe it’s time to just stop and

Give in.

The Jekyll and Hyde in Me

I’ve written a duet of poems to add to my collections. I’m sure you’re all aware of the tragic tale of Dr Henry Jekyll and his somewhat evil alter ego Mr Edward Hyde from the 1886 Gothic novella the Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson. The inspiration for so many movies, drama’s and stories.

Even I tried to reproduce this story in the form of a school play once with a load of primary school kids, myself being one at the time, and playing the lead role; of course. Well you can imagine how that turned out. The children didn’t have a clue or care about the story; I was a crap director being only about 10 or 11 and the teacher called it a day after an hour of total anarchy. Yes, I was that young.

As I’ve mentioned before, I do love a bit of the macabre from time to time, a bit of Gothic horror and it’s this story that inspired me to write about the feelings and emotions that I sometimes go through when I’m; not quite myself.

This first part is the objective side of me that knows the trouble I get into when I lose it and the problems it causes.

The Jekyll in Me

To be possessed

Is that what poor mental health once was?

To be a sufferer

That disconnect from the world

 

I almost understand

How days ago, Demons were to blame

The shame they brought on a lost soul

That science now calls chemical imbalance

 

It’s like…

That veil of Red Mist

The transformational possession by the other one

The moment I forget…

 

Only to wake from it after lost time

To the fallout of my mood and temper

And the family who just deal with it

I don’t see the turmoil that’s left in my wake

 

Like a distant memory

When I’m not me, in partial amnesia

Feelings raging, consideration lost, uncontrollable

The mouth engages but the brain does not

 

It’s not right I know

But that moment of lost control

It’s the Hyde in me

A personal ecstasy

 

But then I fall

From the metaphorical ceiling to floor

Back from the ecstasy in him to the hurt in me

And the floor hit’s hard, I awake

 

Awake to emotional devastation

To the collateral damage

That is the disbelief of those that faced me

And bored the shrapnel from my forked tongue

Copyright © JRFC April 2018