Posts Tagged ‘fear’

amplitude

Such depth of amplitude

Pelican frequencies modulating

Width of surprise wide in your eyes when you’re fried

Take it backwards through the moonlight within eddies of your mind

Take it roughly, take it slowly,

Crap it out of your behind

Then disappear into indolence

Or wish to be enveloped

By suicide succubus love

Drag me down

Aching with sorrow

Aiming to crystallize

Imaginary fear

Into attention

And compassion

But failing

Flagrantly

 

Skye

Posted: October 14, 2015 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

sky2

Wonders, wonders world of weirdness
And now she’s gone
No more crow-screech of ‘cunts’
No more fear in her eyes when she reimagines her domestic violence history
No more clean floors and done dishes
No more laundry day every day
No more good company
No more court dates
No more wondering if she really loves him
No more good advice
So quiet
No fun

sexism

I could tell I’d freaked you out
You said ‘That’s offensive especially for women. Let’s stop talking about that stuff.’
And my stomach knotted into a ball, and my balls crawled up inside me
I thought of how lonely for female company I was
How desperate to impress
I realized I’d blown it and been offensive
Oh God, don’t let me be a servant of the patriarchy
I don’t want to oppress anyone
My language about my flirting lessons is not appropriate
My attitude to women is not appropriate
It has a hint of hunger
It has a hint of lust
It has a hint of objectification
It has a hint of sexism
It has a stench of fear
It has a stench of desperation
It has a stench of ignorance
It has a stench of idolatry
I don’t want to be a gibbering maniac with a rapist mind
Please don’t think I’m a monster or a creeper
I’m just so lonely that I feel like I’m dying inside from the ground up
Inch by inch turning into a statue
Soon to be made a psychological eunuch
By sexual deprivation, frustration and loneliness

loneliness
An undercover area in a primary school on a sumptuous day
It has a floor of bitumen and steel girders hold up an orange roof of steel
The Fremantle doctor is whistling through from the south-west,
Cooling the children at play
Behind one of the steel columns holding up the roof is a little boy of no more than seven: blond and wan and pale
He can’t kick a football
He always comes last in running races
He isn’t playing with the other children
He is a lone sentinel in the midst of the unalloyed joy of his peers
The mechanics of friendship are mystery to him
The mechanics of conversation are a mystery to him
His head is full of murky poison thought
Chills of freezing isolation run up and down his spine
He fears that if the others saw the darkness lurking in his heart they would be revolted
He imagines being popular and having friends sometimes but it seems an unattainable dream
His life is a solitary nightmare at school
And his nightmares are the stuff of meta-nightmares

scary
Hold me close for I have the fear:
The fear of saying the wrong thing to the wrong woman,
The fear of being the wrong person in the wrong place,
The fear of walking the streets of the city at night with my eyes on the bitumen,
The fear of caving into conformity and buying into a suburban hallucination.

Hold me close for I have the fear:
The fear of embodying mediocrity in my aimless thoughts and actions,
The fear of razor blades stuck to waterslides with gum,
The fear of dying alone in a one bedroom flat,
The fear of rejection again and again and again.

Hold me close for I have the fear:
The fear of disappearing into my own irrelevance,
The fear that I am a very unattractive man,
The fear of writing a cliché,
The fear that this poem sucks.