the ring Thursday, 26 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in fun, poetry, rif raf.add a comment
do you have someone ’standing in your corner’ … someone that encourages you … who wants you … with all his heart … to get up from those despairing and discouraging falls in life? i do … and having this person in my corner … it makes this journey of life sweeter to savour …
You thank me all the time
but now it’s my turn
cause truly a word of gratitude so due
can’t go unheard
and it made me feel better
to have you there in my corner
my eyes cast so low
my face could not have been
drawn longer
I know you’ve been impressed
you’ve seen me at my best
but oh, how it hurts
when I can’t hide my worst
well thank-you for carrying on
for playing with me and this song
it made me feel better
we sat it out like some passing bad weather
My mind was like kid’s boxing gloves
the kind blown up with air
that are put away after play
and get limp just lying there
but you knew they’d fill up again
and you gave me your shoulder
and I got up in the ring
because I had you there
in my corner
and I got up in the ring
because I had you there In my corner
lyrics written by sarah harmer
Technorati Tags: sarah-harmer, folk-music, ring, life, thanx
alzheimer demon Sunday, 22 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in melancholy, mental illness, nursing, poetry.20 comments
memory, mind, dignity
devoured by this demon …
alzheimer’s … who siphons souls,
a trail of empty shells strewn in its wake
who settles on faces it possesses
like a shadow crosses a wall of clear gleaming light
traces of wisdom, regret, and sometimes love
erased from creases time has pressed into
friable skin,
replaced with
fear … suspicion … hostility
or … worse …
replaced with nothingness
a sweet flowing spring
has run dry
Technorati Tags: alzheimer’s, family, sad, dementia,
perceptual inferno Friday, 20 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in mental illness, poetry.14 comments
teeming
crystalline voices resonate
perceptual inferno
white noise in gray matter
my own psychic static
shrieking … skulking … shadows
i, hunter … i, hunted
caustic clatter digests my psyche
neuron by neuron
axon by axon
dendrite by dendrite
Technorati Tags: pysche, poetry, static, perceptual
paralyzing motion Thursday, 19 January 2006
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restlessness paralyzes me
a torrent of thoughts, feelings, desires
gush thru my neural pathways
engulfing my consciousness – then
settling … suffocating …
like mental cling-film
the winds of change
stirring … profoundly …
galvanizing … i am
a thought and feeling salad -
so many ingredient
thoughts and feelings tossed together,
their flavours fused into on another . . .
paralyzing motion
birth in reverse Wednesday, 18 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in mental illness, nursing, poetry.7 comments
death …
a birth in reverse …
spiritual … breath-taking
watching …
waiting …
feeling death’s grip tighen
loved ones crumble in grief
… i …
caregiver
… emotionally unaffected …
by the loss of this soul …
ponder the enigma of death -
death … a mask
that settles upon the corpse …
devoid of animation … sallow hue
magnetic souls Wednesday, 18 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in poetry.5 comments
powerful … intense … connected …
i feel i’ve known you an eternity …
like a stone makes a ripple
when it touches the water,
your soul … it has made a ripple
in my eternity … my timespace …
my soul … bound to yours …
… magnetic … energy … fuses with
energy … recognizes … perceives …
beyond consciousness -
could this be -
energy drawn to self?
molecules … have found molecules
they’ve intimately known …
part of self … lover … child …
from a past life?
Technorati Tags: metaphysical, spiritual, souls, love, poetry
cerebral burn … Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in melancholy, poetry.3 comments
the flames of anger
crackle and spit deep inside me
my spirit searing
my psyche, sizzling
i can feel the millions upon millions of synapses
stinging … burning …
rage … the cerebral burn …
a 4th degree burn …
… rage, a fire that consumes all in its path …
leaving a charred, scarred trail of ash
a hollow shell … no substance … no life …
death … rage …
immortalized
by the damage they leave behind
hole in my soul … Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in melancholy, poetry.add a comment
drained…
hollow…
longing…
yearning…
lonely…
alone…
disconnected…
cut off…
infinite sadness.
my heart and lungs expand, contract, tho’ i do not feel alive.
the heaviness of sorrow…
a grief tamponade…
this feeling will never go away.
deception…
lies…
control…
manipulatation.
i don’t know why i’m crying.
can’t stop …
can’t start.
why do some people deplete energy?
why does death rape and pillage.
why …?
plucked away Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in melancholy, poetry.1 comment so far
searing …soul crushing …relentless pain
smothering me
the fruit of my mothering …
plucked away from me …
but … why …
and reduced to a large plastic bag
he came to collect your belongings today
the man walked out with everything … you …
casually, like a bag of garbage
the door closes behind the man with the bag
leaving me imprisoned in my sorrow
an image of you, etched in my heart
elfin child – soft ivory skin, long chestnut lashes
intoxicating squeals of laughter
each day that passes
without you
the deeper and more palpable my loss becomes
my respirates
i do not feel alive
seagull Tuesday, 17 January 2006
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wulf … act two Tuesday, 17 January 2006
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setting fire to paint thinner in the basement
i got a spanking for that one
setting fire to my big brother’s pants
stealing from the neighbourhood cellars
when we blew the food budget at the disco
sending my parents blank ‘letters’
on correspondence day
in exchange for my weekly allowance at boring school,
also known as boarding school
i wonder why mom and dad never said anything
going for joyrides with my brother when he stole mom’s car
the cops didn’t believe i took the car …
especially considering my feet didn’t reach the pedals
seeing the expression on mom’s face
when she saw the large water bong
crudely set into the gaping hole
i punched out of her favourite teak coffee table
Technorati Tags: poetry, childhood, autobiographical
wulf … act one Tuesday, 17 January 2006
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mom and dad collected things
stuff mostly … money …
trips to exotic destinations
us children
you see, my parents didn’t actually realize
that children actually serve a purpose
beyond making their parents feel good
about adding to the collection
we attended boarding school
so that mom could keep track
of where dad put his dick
i feel like i raised myself sometimes
i watched a man blow his nose with a ten dollar bill in Dakar, Senegal
i drank powdered milk with dugout water in Libya
a hash dealer raped me in Israel
i got shot at, walking to school in Algiers
i wonder how many times mom watered the marijuana plant
i kept on the balcony of her Lausanne apartment
Technorati Tags: poetry, childhood, autobiographical
voices Tuesday, 17 January 2006
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hey broadcast using medium-length waves over the radio. they communicate with each other this way. yeah, they think i heaven’t figured them out. they must think that i don’t listen to the radio. oh shit, the voices. they’re singing Kumbaya again. hands over my ears, looking around the room, wild-eyed, for my headphones.
i can’t tell the difference between what my head says and what goes on around me. psycho, i’m fucking psycho again. my ears, they’re ringing with all the sounds of all those loud voices. running. shit. i gotta run. those people in the shadows, they’re trying to stabe me in the head.
‘ . . .drive a broom through your skull … rip out your entrails …” voices! no! those thoughts come from the voices. running. hands over ears. bent over. dodging them. running from them. slamming into walls. bouncing off the bright white walls. gnawing my fingers, exposing raw and putrid flesh and bone. raging. numbing. nothing.
panacea. syringe, loaded. who’s panacea? mine? not sure … i should run. but i have run enough. relief? demise?
wild-eyed dream Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in junky, poetry.add a comment
I felt the needle enter my vein
Morpheus raced down the track
My track, obliterating my track
Morpheus swallowed me, whole
The purple crocus sneered at me,
poking its head through the damp, cold earth
Grass blades, the colour of freshly vomited bile,
snickering – muffled munckin chortles and giggles
Eery sway of tree
branches crackling like decrepit floor boards
Mournful, haunting faces in gnarled, knotted trunks
Smoke plume – a twisting corkscrew of smoke engulfs me
Her face appeared – old, sunken, dark
She opened her grotesque mouth:
a votex, nothing else
The whispered crackle of rotting flesh,
the sweet sickly pungent odour of dying meat
maggots, teaming maggots
Loud glint – blinding
Vision ebbs to shadows
A shrieking siren
Red light, blue light
The wild-eyed dream, ended
clarity Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in poetry.7 comments
in the stillness of the hour before dawn,
hangs tentatively in the air
like a plump dewdrop about to fall to the ground
no wind … no voices … silence …
no roaring gasoline-powered engines …
just the sound of us -
6 feet crunching snow with each step
silence … stillness …
clarity lives in these moments
i breath it in
i want to feel clarity
all the way
to the very depths of my lungs
it fills me and envelopes me all at once
clarity -
of my thoughts, desires, feelings
i am … i feel … it’s clear …
in this moment, its clear
… and …
i want to savour it
Technorati Tags: spiritual, self-realization, poetry
hungry inferno Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in nature, poetry.add a comment
orange sheaths of fire
crackle spit dance flicker
sailing the forest
clear sheets of heat shimmy
cloaked in thin ribbons of white smoke
woodland bowels, scarred and scorched
felled tree limbs, charred
strewn in an ashen sea
majestic green canopy swallowed
by hungry inferno
the prey Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in melancholy, poetry.add a comment
your rank breath tasted of sour milk
car grease embedded in your fingernails
black soot pressed in the creases of your hands
fear, your sweet opium
sos – i seek refuge
who will rescue me from
you, a restless sexual vulture -
a vortex that hungers insatiably
fear anger shame hang thickly
an impenetrable fog
lotus flower Tuesday, 17 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in erotica, poetry.add a comment
lotus flower, plump
pink petals, delicately
I encircle you
night stalker Saturday, 14 January 2006
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spiral staircase Saturday, 14 January 2006
Posted by cerebralgraffitti in fun, poetry.add a comment
