Last night I sat down and jotted down a poem. And it turned out to be quite good and I really love it, so I thought I would share it with you.
For me, when I write, and not just poetry, there needs to be two things happening. First, some first line pops into my head, and second, I become aware of a feeling that if I keep writing then whatever comes out will be good. It’s sort of like that thing about being ‘in the zone’.
The reason this works for me is because of my dissociative condition, I have come to understand. You can start reading about this in my psych profile, to which I shall be adding in due course. One of my superpowers, if I can call it that, is this ability to shift myself into that zone at will. Likewise I can consciously conjure up that first line. I know for most writers, they have to wait, really, until the muse kisses them. For me, I can summon the muse at will. That’s probably the best way to describe it. For those who don’t have my condition, it’s so difficult to comprehend it.
But for me, I love it. Even if this condition is a result of sustained childhood trauma, I have learned to see the positive. I am grateful, though, for the fact that my first year of life was conditioned by true, real love. That told me that I am worth caring for and being loved and I am a good person. It was only after that, when I was returned to my birth parents, that I was treated otherwise.
All these impressions, which serve as lessons, and imprints on the mind, will stay with you for the rest of your life.
My bio-father is dead now, and my bio-mother, I don’t know and I don’t care – I am free, and independent, and I love.
And am loved.
This is the real me.
Once upon a time, I left my heart in the galactic core from which I was born.
I am a spawn.
So here is my little poem, that thing I wrote last night.
It hasn’t really been edited, I should note. A few extra words here and there, a little punctuation, but nothing more.
To edit, remember, is to distort your pure soul.
And that is not acceptable. Oh no.
That is not life.
And not-life, that is a wrong…
I left my heart in the galactic core
Life swings back round In a darker motion Shifts and thrashes in a slideshow Let go life Falling to ground with a last breath For I was only a long time sick and more often when you left And I fell when you left And never was any of it right again in the world Storm tumbles and crashes, this life shifts in death In the last breath and cracks against ground On thrashing waves and stone And hurls my last wish to the wind For I was only a long time sick. Jagged, shearing, infant rifts in my heartlines As time shifts back into view Infant I always said I would be here again with you When the baby haze vanished gasps and dissipates My first new view of you, my first wish. And back around life shifts In a dark emotion And cracks it open. This honeyed chrysalis, this emerging. Evil and sin and I always said I would be here again For you searching between the heartlines And surging when time and you shift back in view In a brighter motion. Life turns back round again. Birthing, apple-cored In a higher spiral…
I am sure there will be more poems from me in the darker days to come. And when that is so, here shall a link be also…
Oh - would you like to buy me a coffee?
the mistery that is the moon, I feel, sends slivers through the night
circumventing and conquering clouds, returning clear and cleared.
encouraging to take my next step, illuminated by the light
or maybe in the shadows?
however, inspired nonetheless.
The rainbow stands as a testament to hopes and dreams but fades from view, chased by desire.