16 Friday Oct 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
I’ve always wondered
what my 62 year old grandfather
was thinking
that Friday
at 1:30 in the afternoon,
when he decided to leave his office
in the courthouse,
where he was County Court Clerk,
to drive out of town,
park on a by-road,
walk to a nearby bush,
pull out his handgun
and shoot himself
through the head.
I’ve always wondered……why?
Perhaps,
one day
he’ll tell me.
Read about my friends here http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS
15 Thursday Oct 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
anger, death, depression, eternal, forever, free, frustration, loneliness, mental illness, psychology, rage
Visions of my crumpled, lifeless body,
haunt my aimless footsteps.
Spectres from the grave welcome,
this life-weary traveler.
Tomorrow, that will not come, denies
upturned eyes, the soft rains of hope.
Flames of sorrow and rage sear,
this tortured soul.
Ragged hell-cries of desperation rip,
and pierce my mind.
No sound is uttered,
since there is no ear to listen.
Grief rises and swells,
like the limitless ocean,
swallowing this helpless, solitary victim,
in tides of comfortless tears.
Mother earth, take this flesh, these bones
to your rocky bosom.
Pull a cover of earth
over this last weary day.
This poem represents a very bleak period in my life. After expressing my feelings on paper I sought psychological and medical help. I am now pleased to report that suicidal feelings have been abandoned. Depression will always be with me; however medication allows me to live a healthy, even happy life.
Read about my friends here http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS
21 Saturday Sep 2013
Posted in Poetry
Tags
bipolar, Buddhism, depression, love, obsessive compulsive, personal, philosophy, psychiatry, psychology, suicide, therapy
.
.
Visions of my crumpled, lifeless body
haunt my aimless footsteps.
Spectres from the grave welcome
this life-weary traveler.
Tomorrow, that will not come, denies
upturned eyes, the soft rains of hope.
Flames of sorrow and rage sear
this tortured soul.
Ragged hell-cries of desperation rip
and pierce my mind.
No sound is uttered,
since there is no ear to listen.
Grief rises and swells
like the limitless ocean,
swallowing this helpless, solitary victim
in tides of comfortless tears.
Mother earth, take this flesh, these bones
to your rocky bosom;
pull a cover of earth
over this last weary day.
.
This poem represents a very bleak period in my life. After expressing my feelings on paper, I sought psychological and medical help. I am now pleased to report that suicidal feelings have been left behind. Bipolar, obsessive compulsive and paranoid personality disorders will always be with me; however medication and meditation allows me to live an intermittently happy life.
.
