Wall.
Building a wall
Around my life
Keeping me safe.
Each new hurt
Providing a brick
Keeping me safe.
The wall is so high
No-one can break through
Keeping me safe.
My wall is strong and firm
Keeping you out
Keeping me safe.
Inside I'm weak and scared
Hiding inside my wall
Needing to be safe.
You can't get past my wall
I won't let you
But I'm still not safe.
May 1993
Wednesday, 19 July 2006
Surface Relationships.
I wrote poem #1 at a time when I was surrounded by well meaning christians, who though they were lovely people seemed happy to only touch the surface.
I was looking around for people to connect with, people who could offer some kind of support network as my sanity and ability to cope were becoming dangerously close to fracturing and disintegrating.
The poem sums up the questions I wanted to ask them but I was too scared that they would turn and run. Occasionally I allowed a little to slip out and some of them did indeed do a runner (figuratively speaking).
It seemed to me at the time that Church was full of nice people who would willingly share the peace with you and participate in communion but don't you dare tarnish their beautiful lives with your pain and misery.
I no longer think that it is quite as bad as all that but there are those who will only ever desire the surface relationship and will never want to know anything about the real and deeper you. I think this is sad. What is even sadder is that sometimes I am guilty of the same thing.
I was looking around for people to connect with, people who could offer some kind of support network as my sanity and ability to cope were becoming dangerously close to fracturing and disintegrating.
The poem sums up the questions I wanted to ask them but I was too scared that they would turn and run. Occasionally I allowed a little to slip out and some of them did indeed do a runner (figuratively speaking).
It seemed to me at the time that Church was full of nice people who would willingly share the peace with you and participate in communion but don't you dare tarnish their beautiful lives with your pain and misery.
I no longer think that it is quite as bad as all that but there are those who will only ever desire the surface relationship and will never want to know anything about the real and deeper you. I think this is sad. What is even sadder is that sometimes I am guilty of the same thing.
Poem #1
What Do You See?
What do you see
When you look at me?
Do you see the fear
Wrapped around my heart?
Do you see the pain
Concealed within my smile?
Do you see the heartache
Deep down in my eyes?
Tell me, what do you see
When you look at me?
What do hear
When I talk to you?
Do you hear the years
Of doubt, of trying to be free?
Do you hear the chains
Rattling as they hold on to me@
Do you hear me screaming?
Do you want to?
November 1992
What do you see
When you look at me?
Do you see the fear
Wrapped around my heart?
Do you see the pain
Concealed within my smile?
Do you see the heartache
Deep down in my eyes?
Tell me, what do you see
When you look at me?
What do hear
When I talk to you?
Do you hear the years
Of doubt, of trying to be free?
Do you hear the chains
Rattling as they hold on to me@
Do you hear me screaming?
Do you want to?
November 1992
A Life Survived In Poetry
When I went through my decade of depression I wrote poetry. I wrote to survive and to leave something to explain my demise if I could no longer go on surviving.
I wrote and wrote and from time to time I revisit it and marvel that I ever found a way through. But I did survive and what is more I eventually learned how to live and to love.
From to time - perhaps even a lot - I will reproduce some of these poems - the good and the not so good - here. They will help to tell my story.
I wrote and wrote and from time to time I revisit it and marvel that I ever found a way through. But I did survive and what is more I eventually learned how to live and to love.
From to time - perhaps even a lot - I will reproduce some of these poems - the good and the not so good - here. They will help to tell my story.
A Poem
SUNSET
Sunset
Red, orange, Gold.
Sunset
Proclaiming God
He exists, He lives.
Sunset
How Can you look at
Sunset
and tell me God is dead?
Sunset.
Sunrise
Red, orange, Gold.
Sunrise
Announcing the day.
Sunrise
He exists, He lives, He loves you.
Sunrise
Do you see?
Sunrise
God is alive in you and me and
Sunrise.
May 1991
Sunset
Red, orange, Gold.
Sunset
Proclaiming God
He exists, He lives.
Sunset
How Can you look at
Sunset
and tell me God is dead?
Sunset.
Sunrise
Red, orange, Gold.
Sunrise
Announcing the day.
Sunrise
He exists, He lives, He loves you.
Sunrise
Do you see?
Sunrise
God is alive in you and me and
Sunrise.
May 1991
Tuesday, 18 July 2006
If.....
If people were honest and only asked the questions they really wanted answers to - what would the world look like?
Can you imagine it
'Oh hello, how are you today?'
'Well the kids had me up all night and I feel kinda tired and the cat gor run over and I can't afford a vet and I've got this pain around my heart that won't go away and yesterday I buried my best friend and I can't quite get over the trauma of the past and I would really like to talk and I would really like you to hear me'
We ask the questions but we don't really want to hear what the other person really feels and what is going on in their lives. That would somehow be too messy, too personal, too close.
Can you imagine it
'Oh hello, how are you today?'
'Well the kids had me up all night and I feel kinda tired and the cat gor run over and I can't afford a vet and I've got this pain around my heart that won't go away and yesterday I buried my best friend and I can't quite get over the trauma of the past and I would really like to talk and I would really like you to hear me'
We ask the questions but we don't really want to hear what the other person really feels and what is going on in their lives. That would somehow be too messy, too personal, too close.
Sometimes......
Sometimes I am woken by screaming only to realise it is me.
Sometimes I am too scared to close my eyes and sleep for fear of what lurks in the darkness.
Sometimes the tears fall for no apparent reason.
Sometimes silence is terrifying.
Sometimes I hope for a better future.
Sometimes I find joy in just being alive.
Sometimes my children remind me of all that was stolen from me.
Sometimes my children remind me of the beauty of living.
Sometimes the Son shines into my darkness.
Sometimes the Light threatens to reveal my secrets.
Sometimes I welcome this.
Sometimes I cower in the dark corners afraid to come out.
Sometimes I think I understand.
Sometimes I know I never will.
Sometimes I am too scared to close my eyes and sleep for fear of what lurks in the darkness.
Sometimes the tears fall for no apparent reason.
Sometimes silence is terrifying.
Sometimes I hope for a better future.
Sometimes I find joy in just being alive.
Sometimes my children remind me of all that was stolen from me.
Sometimes my children remind me of the beauty of living.
Sometimes the Son shines into my darkness.
Sometimes the Light threatens to reveal my secrets.
Sometimes I welcome this.
Sometimes I cower in the dark corners afraid to come out.
Sometimes I think I understand.
Sometimes I know I never will.
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