The Decline of Loneliness

This poem is dedicated to readers who are feeling lonely, depressed and hopeless. You have strength left in you to reach out, to dial the number and say ‘I’m not ok’.

the crowded room
is suffocating
comprehension of conversation
is fading
nodding
avoiding eye contcact
diminishing in chatter
and laughter

party is over
quick
shut the door
make myself small
curl up in a ball

sleep is not coming
live life vicariously
through social feeds
play some music
read some poetry
fighting loneliness
alone

the morning sun
is way too bright
red eyed
sallow skin
coffee tastes bland
not hungry
lack of will
to face the day

should check the mailbox
someone may wave
smile
and says Hi
it’s so worth getting up
step out
to see
hear
and
feel again

the door is locked
two metres is too far away
my will is too short-lived
rescue is too distant

drowning further down
into the whirlpool
of nothingness
on Boxing Day

Tortoise

I stop looking into myself
Introspection in vain
for I am a hollow man

There is a spiral
of nothingness
pecked out by crows

How do I escape
this ebony heaviness
Folding myself further
into a pool of tar
is suicide by default

In the end
I am bored of the wollow
So I stretch myself
and look outside again
The light is unchangingly
there
and the fullness
is outside of me


Waste

I was walking 
in idle steps
down the park
brown grass 
dry wind

A woman 
with grey hair
wearing plastic bags
to keep warm
laughing
mumbling
in her own
merry world

Why am I
so sad
so depressed
got out of
a warm bed
in snug clothes

I keep walking
aimlessly
to nowhere
but following 
the woman
She suddenly
becomes
my focal point
and the only 
highlight
I can recall
in my pethetic
expired life

The Lesser of Two Evils

This is the recent collaboration with Benjamin Grossman which helped me greatly in breaking my writing ‘numbness’. Please check out Ben’s blog if you have not already read his amazing work. 

The glacial battle begins in our heads
Face pressed to the sun-pierced windowpane
January snow in recession, the signs of regression 
Half hidden like an iceberg in the arctic water 
And where once a soft glow illuminated the surface 
Only the placement of desolation remains
Reverberating silent screams 
  
There is no one way of knowing cold
The stages are fluid and transient
Its meaning bitterly ambiguous 
Yet in rare lucid moments, I see husks
An empty bed, scarred skin, chattered teeth
Spirit-numbed mind, missed meals, vacant smiles

There is no one way of knowing cold
Its symptoms appear to have no rhyme or reason
Although they move with wintry doom
From person to person increasing in aggression 
Till you understand the meaning of icy
Which unbeknownst to us creeps in succession 

There is no one way of knowing cold 
Though maybe it’s always the same
Emotional and physical reaction 
A state of feeling dangerously low
Struggling to survive between cold and colder
The very same polar opposites: Arctic and Antarctica

 

Home Invasion

The night overstays your company
You know the day will break again
if you refuse
to give yourself away to despair
The lover
who
wraps herself around your throat
digs her claws in your arteries
laughs at your virility
injects lead into your feet
claims you to be hers
while
fails to admit she is the trespasser

20200407_180446671183194919632900.jpg

Photo taken by Cassa Bassa at Collaroy beach, Sydney Northern beaches, Australia

 

Giving up

Rain trickles down the window
in the train carriage
The world outside is like
miles away through teary eyes
If life is all about the journey
I wish I could break the window
to taste the rancid of rain
so when the sun comes out again
I would be grateful
But for now
I cannot wait
to get to my destination
in an escape from
this tear soaked life

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