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7d · 60
My innermost has been missing me,
I must get back to it,
Lately, I've been a half moon, see,
a half moon and that's it.

There's a clumsiness beneath my cerebral cortex,
A hazy and haphazard thought,
My cranuim is marrying the confused with the complex,
And so my thinking amounts to nought.

Where am I in my deafening debris?
I'm not entirely lost,
Just feeling far away from lucidity and me,
But my innermost will cover the cost.
Feeling like a stranger to yourself can be scary. Back to introspection.
Sep 22 · 216
A Stark Reality
Debbie Lydon Sep 22
I am the dying child of the fatal father internal,
I am the nourished child of the master and mother in me,
Once I was the starving child who was robbed of memories eternal,
But now I have found new life within the nectar of duality.

I am a dweller upon the wistful waves, uncertain,
I am estranged from the feeling of family,
My mind is but the dancing dust upon a wafting curtain,
This is mine, my naked bounty and nature's stark reality.
Jul 29 · 171
Not just nettles
Debbie Lydon Jul 29
Retire, you screaming and reckless strain,
I want to dilute your desire to hate,
Dissipate, you loveless disease of the brain,
Let's try to make warm what could have been a cold fate.

Bloom, you timid tomorrow of mine,
I want to make room for another's petals,
Flood, you gluttonous gutters of time,
Give us the flowers, not just the nettles.

Linger, oh memory of a phantom friend,
I want to be a singer of your secret tune,
Be a full moon, you impending end,
Smiling crescents shine a liars light in my darkened room.

Awake, you sleepy and half-hearted hope,
I want to dance now but I'm dust that soon settles,
Come back, you lost lifeline and dreamer's rope,
Show me your flowers, I'm weary of nettles.
Jun 3 · 256
My budding flowers
Debbie Lydon Jun 3
Summer is suffusing the air with ease,
While winter begins in my eyes,
I am overcome with this lingering and lonely breeze,
There's so much pain in the sunset at day's demise.

This demise is like that of my dearest dreams,
When I awake to a frozen mourning,
I am languid and lame while my cautious soul screams,
And I make it inaudible, I suffocate it's warning.

Shame on my mind and my synthetic skin,
I am rain, I am weeping and sombre,
While wearing sun's silk and casting calm as my kin,
My budding flowers are quickly wilting beneath my old armour.
Apr 20 · 153
Debbie Lydon Apr 20
Feeling those micro abandonments like the setting sun upon my amygdala's shore,
No longer residing in my mind's old tenemants, I can see only strangers at my left-side door,
Wreathed in layer upon layer of distrust, I cannot open myself up anymore,
I couldn't bear to see your bold stars dimmed by the enveloping mist of what came before.

What kind of existence will find me tomorrow, if any existence at all?
I've been begging for another's burdens to borrow, mine can no longer make me fall,
I'm learning that in my old mirror and shame, I can sometimes see the face of Saul,
Blind in my wandering and bashful in blame, I am forever lost in the stories I cannot recall.
Apr 9 · 212
A song unsung
Debbie Lydon Apr 9
My mind strays to you and my body soon takes over,
It trembles and ties those tight strings of sensuality,
A fleeting thought of you sets ablaze my heart like leaves in October,
To know the touch of your dear hand is to know sunlight's reach in a dark reality.

The memory of your gaze is like a gilded horizon,
Tastes of sweeter days rest on my tarrying tongue,
I can be cold but you are warmth and you are not forgotten,
Ours is beautiful, very melodic, just waiting to be sung.
Apr 3 · 224
The knots
Debbie Lydon Apr 3
Let us momentarily untangle these social knots,
Let us be the rain in this dangerous drought of dreams,
We are better than those garish gambling slots,
We cannot see life's light in their spurious sunbeams.
Apr 3 · 112
Time has spoken
Debbie Lydon Apr 3
To own a selfish and reckless will,
It is monstrous and a tyrant over me still,
It holds the hand of my ambition when I meet my shy dreams,
And hands me a cup of cowardice sourced from apathy's streams.

Passion has a seat at the banqueting table,
It wants to be more than friends with unstable,
A chaotic spiral of emotions has awoken,
But time wears the crown and I think time has spoken.
Mar 26 · 364
My place
Debbie Lydon Mar 26
Last night's sombre sky was hiding the moon in the corner of an ever-longing eye,
Mysteries were fooled by honesty's mask,
This also happened by day, it was not just night's task.

Oh sovereign sky, you are more generous tonight,
Ostentatious and proud, you adorn my mind's walls,
Pouring me a cup of darkness delight, pain bows it's head and sorrow stalls.

My eyes are too full, they are open and flooding,
Thank you, oh night and your sky's freckled face,
Your reminder of life has heads bowed and legs running, but I am here and in my place.
Mar 15 · 180
A while
Debbie Lydon Mar 15
Oh, if I could I sleep forever on a daydream's cloudy cushion,
I'm cowering again from the thrilling thunder of life's perpetual percussion,
Oh, if I could rest of an evening by the warmth of your dear smile,
No need to feel the terror of time, time would go out for a while.
Mar 9 · 144
Blessed be the path
Debbie Lydon Mar 9
Secret and senile condition,
It obeys that old self-righteous act of contrition,
Tentative and taciturn me,
Longing only for my fleeting thoughts to be free.

Obscure and opulent friend,
You remind me of life and a journey's end,
Wonderful and whimsical you,
You're the best I have known, the best shade of blue.

Unknown and unarmed us,
How could it be that we are walking thus?
Crippled and unstable we,
Blessed be the path that did heed our pace's plea.
Feb 29 · 123
To be alone
Debbie Lydon Feb 29
Loneliness, you, the great misunderstood privilege,
You, oh terrible and gut-wrenching luxury,
To face that expansive, internal abyss,
And to know myself, wholly,
In deepest despair and boldest bliss.

Slow motion memory, you intricate skill,
Towering and dangerous like waves of wine's sea,
Decanting your motion and learning to savour,
Sweet moments of wonder, drunken and divine,
Show me myself in my buried behaviour.
Feb 19 · 220
Debbie Lydon Feb 19
Oh this grey prison of our waking eyes,
It is colder than our long-lived and taciturn tides,
The moon smiles, beaming, upon our wavering way,
Knowing that our fervent sun will soon set fire to our new day.

This stranger pain and that neighbour sorrow,
They are jealous of the colours we are saving for tomorrow,
To blot them with night's ink is their insidious intent,
Let us hold our precious currency of colours, even until our last breath is spent.

The advent of our springtime seems as unlikely as our salvation,
Perhaps our darker clouds will begin to cry for our hydration,
Those tears would greet that arid soil like the dew drops greet the morn,
And from the dearest droplets fall, our spring is here, our spring is born.
Feb 6 · 544
This fine matter
Debbie Lydon Feb 6
Dust, just dust, with a sad or smiling face,
That successful dust who learned to mimic life's pace,
The dust on the outside is sleeping rough and is alone,
While the dust seen through the window has a family and a home.

Sometimes this dust can create and conjure beauty,
And other times it will destroy in the name of fear or duty,
I know some dust who keeps their grace hidden under floorboards,
I know some other dust who sings out their grace with compassionate chords.

I have seen a swirling dust who keeps in perfect time with the breeze,
I have also seen a static dust who refused nature's offering of ease,
Often I see dust succumb to time's hypnosis and monotony,
But occasionally I see dust be brave and break the silence with a symphony.

Dust, just dust, it is the beginning of me,
From dust were you made and it is our actuality,
The wonder of the world is at the mercy of this fine matter,
We are walking, breathing, dancing dust, we'll paint the glass and watch it shatter.
Jan 29 · 108
The unwelcome guest
Debbie Lydon Jan 29
The hours sprint by as though their only motive is to win cruelty's race,
I reside on my knees, in time's clutch of agony, always despairing at it's pernicious pace,
Too fast, too soon does pain come to call at my ever-polite brain,
And my mind, once again, is the awkward host to the unwelcome guest, the uninvited disdain.

Here it is again, the frustrating refrain that permeates my days like the waves upon sand,
As fluid as those waves is my tired brain, yet parched remains my lonely hand,
With all I can muster, I shout at that shadow and beg that it would dissolve into the common darkness,
But despite all my efforts, that shadow returns to stifle my catharsis.

I don't pretend that better days won't come to visit me sometimes,
But I can't deny that without that shadow I would struggle to know life's rhymes,
And perhaps this is the price for a living soul to indulge in that which is real and true,
I won't run, I won't cower, and even if it means hurt, I will look you in the eye and I will see your value.
Jan 17 · 131
Debbie Lydon Jan 17
You sang for us all so sweetly, though many had blocked their ears,
Your song was enough to ease my mind of mundanity and steal away my eyes from tears,
You unburdened my heart of the day's ordinary harm and your melody made moribund my fears,
But passers by missed the music, how could they not hear the song I'll remember for years?

You selflessly sang your colours into the grey and toiling afternoon,
All day I heard the steady and beige tick-tock until you sang out your rainbow and joyous bloom,
So filled to the brim was my stomach with gratitude when my weary mind awoke to your vital tune,
You asked wonder to tear up my contract with banality, I hope I hear you again sometime soon.
To the blackbird who sang so beautifully while I waited to get the bus home after a long day at work.
Debbie Lydon Jan 9
I awoke to a morning of such brief beauties,
How strange these new realities are,
I'm somewhat scared but would like to claim the euphoria,
On a daily basis I'm now leaving my own mind ajar.

It's a risk and I have been delving deeper by the day,
I never knew my own consciousness could be so foreign,
I've been introspecting since my youth but found new territory today,
There is a prospect that is positive or perhaps it is peril, when you cross the mind's old imperious margin.
Jan 9 · 212
Debbie Lydon Jan 9
Sporadically, I miss you,
Always, I need you,
My great comfort of the past, destroyed,
A snow soul turned to coal, no longer a soul, just a void.

Awake and therefore hating,
Everything but creating,
Made in the image and likeness,
Of this great chaos and detritus.

Religion did debase my very nature,
It made moribund my might and lukewarm my temperature,
The thief in the night robbed me of hope by adumbrating that eschatological night,
And fate struck a deal with tyrannical tedium to dilute my delight.
Dec 2019 · 322
Debbie Lydon Dec 2019
A red thread of shame is tightly woven into our silenced souls,
An inherited madness dripped its way down to whoever works the controls,
This nebulous state, this numb state, it's our common default setting,
Here we all are, blind to the brain trick, content in our worldwide forgetting.

Nothing like a perpetually distracted brain to box away the brilliance,
Put that box back in the cupboard, don't you dare invite **** dissonance,
And remember when the party guests arrive, silence is insulting,
Privacy is suspicious, mystery is annoying and thoughts kept to yourself are revolting.

Show us romance, show us pretty, let us always see the screen,
Give us an abundance of fake new reality, let us turn on the simulation rain,
We would like to see her and we would like to see him while pretending we're the ones having fun,
Dopamine is leading the way for us all, our ruling neurotransmitter, our kindly king hormone.
Dec 2019 · 144
Gold for the sewer rat
Debbie Lydon Dec 2019
I feel a pull to you,
A gravitational pull,
My mind is full of you,
It is excessively full.

I need a break from this,
A remote kind of break,
Not yours but nature's kiss,
I do know what's at stake.

I had a dream of it,
A bad kind of dream,
Anger you tried to elicit,
You're not what you seem.

My hope coloured my iris,
Temporarily blind,
I can't wade through this detritus,
I have to leave it behind.

Love is real you know?
So many taint it's truth,
It is as bold as sun and snow,
And it's nature is uncouth.

All encompassing? true.
I could not fathom that,
Oh, but now I do,
It is gold made for the sewer rat.
Dec 2019 · 218
Chaos and the clock
Debbie Lydon Dec 2019
Desperation within these darker places,
I have an ironed out yearning to bid farewell to those faces,
Who chase me down their corridors of boredom,
I'm towel dried by routine and so stripped of wisdom.

That slithering hand around that cold, lifeless face,
****** and clockwise at one insipid pace,
Tells me I'm late and I've just missed mirth's deadline,
So here I am, consigned to this, life's callous, common flatline.

But I will rage and I will curse at the dust and dawn,
I'll think tightly of a polished image and forget that despotic yawn,
I'll beg truth to show me beauty, ardor and distress,
And I will open my enervated eyes to this old miraculous mess.
Nov 2019 · 232
Deceit and his shadow
Debbie Lydon Nov 2019
Like a monster behind a smile or a devil in a daydream,
Like a job that seems worthwhile but is just a boulder in your stream,
Like the sweet gesture of a friend whose agenda comes out to play,
Or the secret broken hearts of men whose songs stay hidden from the day.

I find you in the quiet word someone uttered against my name,
I find you in the brazen herd who are so generous with blame,
I find you when the clock dictates my precious moments here,
And you are there in the silent hate dilating in the eyes of fear.

I met you as a child when I was denied comfort's cloak,
I met you in the loneliness of which a tired old man spoke,
I met you in the hunger and the whip of colder winters,
You meet me again when I face the hurt and try to remove the splinters.

You knew me when I stabbed a heart with the venom of my words,
You knew me when I clipped the wings of all those kindness birds,
You knew me in the times I frowned when loving words were spoken,
How well you know me now in this reflection that is broken.

But your shadow waits behind you ever whispering wisest of words,
Your shadow, who knows more than you can even lure out the bluebirds,
Your shadow carries power and pain and is as unkind as youth,
Your shadow is morality's vein, your shadow is the truth.
Nov 2019 · 239
A frightful fog
Debbie Lydon Nov 2019
The hour for fervour seems faded,
Yet flickers appear like fireflies in our tenebrous sky,
The farce of our fickle society has invaded,
But minds knowing nature will know hope is nigh.

Injustice ever growing like a tangled ivy,
Weaving our complex prison of mind,
We awake to no passion, no boldness to see,
And we pass eachother on our streets, we who are willingly blind.

I didn't ask for this, did you?
Where is the thief of mirth and freedom and bliss?
Who decided to descend the haze and fog no eye can see through?
It wasn't me, it wasn't you, it was us and apathy's kiss.

There are still flashes of redemption in the dark,
And sometimes you will meet those who are themselves the flame,
And sometimes slightly will the fog ascend, just as did the Lark,
And we must no let those who brandish their power make the mind of the Lark tame.
Nov 2019 · 147
Debbie Lydon Nov 2019
Everything today is tainted with a cold hue,
As though all the world were glazed with an icy blue.

A tear frozen at the midpoint of my cheek,
Stagnating the sorrow and deeming the day bleak.

Eyes want to rain like to sky is right now,
But hydration eludes me and my clouds take a bow.

Grey lingers languidly above this arid head,
The colour of the frozen paints me paralysed in it's bed.

Rain, please rain so that I can make this green again,
I don't belong in this starved sketch, lead me to a new terrain.
Nov 2019 · 155
Colder now
Debbie Lydon Nov 2019
Within nature's grand duality,
That living love does now reside,
Our vast landscape of frozen uncertainty,
Is no safe place for that love to hide.

So dimly now do it's embers glow,
I must confess I'm scared,
So beautiful though it is to know,
That troubled stream who keeps the source unshared.

Dearest of souls and darkest of depths,
A mind I'm afraid to know better,
But their absence deems my brain cells bereft,
If I were simple, I'd write them a letter.
Nov 2019 · 186
A Nightmare
Debbie Lydon Nov 2019
I remember the way the world looked when I thought everyone was pure,
The hot air balloon of naivety was my only way up,
It felt safe then, when I remained unaware of other minds,
Then suddenly the red night battered down the doors, oh detestable colour!

Now my mind is tortured daily with nostalgia at each stair,
I love in vain and cry for all the shadows that cannot leave,
Their existence is essential and I didn't know that before,
But it's true when I say I lived in light, in the midst of that old nightmare.
Oct 2019 · 383
Autumnal awe
Debbie Lydon Oct 2019
Sun's glory set alight the autumn leaves I saw this morning,
It kindled consolation for my 9 am start,
Tyranny of traffic and bustling city found me yawning,
But they were no match for autumn's fire that did calm this anxious heart.

A beauty bitter sweet is oft more potent than just sugar,
Sweetness alone won't the seeds of awe sow,
Autumn knows her time is short and demands you look at her,
She was so bold this morning, she had given us a rainbow.
Oct 2019 · 185
Debbie Lydon Oct 2019
Yielding to the demands of this predicament,
My mind hard-wired to bear this suffering,
My heart has lifted the burden of resentment,
And yes, life, I want you and all that you're offering.

I know pain that can torture a stoic mind,
I know beauty that can paint over the darkest shadow,
I feel joy so intensely, it can make me blind,
Yet the darkness catches up, it might find me here tomorrow.

Zoom in on life and it sure can look ugly,
You have to transcend that thin point of view,
The masterpiece was always there to see, far beyond the idea 'me',
More wondrous than I thought it was, it turns out that I am also you.
Oct 2019 · 469
A wildfire
Debbie Lydon Oct 2019
Fire at the core of the earth, fire at the core of me,
Delve to the depths of the earth and me, find what will frighten and what makes me free,
That fire burns ferociously behind this thin film,
I am not the only one who knows,
A wildfire only slightly tamed by a lie,
And a fervour that by the day grows.

Slight me as you must, consequences of flame,
I am all power and weakness and treat them both as the same,
Tragedy and triumph work hand in hand,
You are my friend and my foe!
Sparing me sorrow is sparing me joy,
A perpetual duality, I am beginning to know.
Oct 2019 · 401
Not yet too far.
Debbie Lydon Oct 2019
Like a cancer I cling to you when I should turn away,
Darkness, please don't fill this space,
Sorrow, please delay.

An incessent yearning leaking onto my ideas, the colour of dismay,
Suicide, be gone from mind,
Please creation, not decay.

The memory of you, a wound untreated, a jewel I locked away,
Me, a safe for your callous act,
Please, don't you dare stay.

Your company, Vincent's night robbed of stars in the cruelest way,
Myself, a ***** amongst kings,
At least, that's what you would say.

Knowing better and feeling worse, duality in the doorway,
A love you have dispassionately marred,
No more prophetic ray.

The clouds are clearing, no thanks to you and your own ego's way,
Light, within me to be found,
And this is my new day!
Sep 2019 · 476
The Joke
Debbie Lydon Sep 2019
The ooos and ahhs have hunched my mind,
Crippling my conception of a world undefined,
Wandering alone will tear the fabric of this frail design,
And crucify me upon a truth to which I am aligned.

There's a nuisance and a laughter waiting there, just in front,
When fear approaches it is made humble by humour's brazen affront,
Oh such honesty can only be existing to amuse or to make my edges blunt,
Turn the tables of their titles, I am neither teacher nor student.

Hallowed ground? not at all, it did regenerate it's soil,
A ground that knew those ancient footsteps knows no more the walker's toil,
From creation's genius clowning I am so ready to recoil,
But I say face the laughing liturgy, recall the joke that roused your turmoil.

A joke that has remained there, at the core of every tear,
It is quiet, almost inaudible, if you will not hush your brain to hear,
Once discovered, like the sun, it strips the night of all it's fear,
And in it's wake there is a smile and a wreckage to revere.
Jul 2019 · 1.1k
Debbie Lydon Jul 2019
One little voice was a piercing light through the bleak days I now know from a grateful distance,
It uttered with confidence a beautiful perception of what I believed was a woeful existence,
That gentle voice loved all that I was with a fierce and resounding persistence,
  On days when I could heed nothing but hate the voice ran to my aid and met hate with resistance.

One loving voice stayed near to my soul and traded my loathing for a love steadfast and sure,
It taught me to mend hurts that are hard to forgive and cherish a life I did not believe I could endure,
A kindness that reached the core of my being rendered this pitiful human secure,
And despite all that went before, despite indignities done, that little voice dared to call me pure.
Just one person's hope and love for you is enough to pull you through hard times.
Jul 2019 · 803
The last bough
Debbie Lydon Jul 2019
Glaze my mind's last bough with gold,
For it is waning like a face that has been carved by sorrow,
Reside, perched upon it like a robin in the cold,
Who's bold colour can't help but alight hope for tomorrow.

Though I wander, listlessly within this bleak time,
And a daily load upon my back has been thieving my vigour,
There is a guile still inside that is rightfully mine,
And an idea, born of strength, that is infinitely bigger.

I have been built upon a strong foundation,
Your attempt at erosion can do nothing or little,
A dignified and discerning heart beats within,
I will tell you in earnest, it is neither breaking nor brittle.

My sky does still have dark clouds to be cleared,
But such beauty they endow to a distant position,
Suffering has not marred those colours revered,
Tragedy and triumph are allied in this, life's war of attrition.
Apr 2019 · 689
Debbie Lydon Apr 2019
A solace in solitude has me confined,
A thought whispers wisely from the back of my mind,
In humanity and life we are nothing but a cry,
To an internal truth and self we so often deny.

Oh, but what we can create persists,
Take pain, take hardship and clench their fists,
We are ready for a world that can harden hearts,
When we breathe in compassion and shame departs.

Be vulnerable and so in turn be brave,
Change does not even let go in the grave,
We are all power and weakness, both lion and lamb,
There can be no certitude to who I am.

The world, on a whim it does reside,
Stability is fiction and fear hides inside,
Learn to ride the wind of this strange existence,
Power of mind is relinquishing control and resistance.
Mar 2019 · 2.4k
The view from down here.
Debbie Lydon Mar 2019
Silhouette stranger's scattered lights,
In hand-me-down houses and council flat nights,
In not being known, a private delight,
But as a bird in it's cage, it's sad, out of sight.

The smell of disdain in the pouring rain,
Becoming ever more potent as it falls again,
The bitter-sweet pain of elusive strife,
I'm swiftly sketching a stagnant life.

Tomorrow's demands stretch out their hands,
Trenching my feet in these old sands,
Night's ink comes back to blot the Sun's ray,
Oh, you cruel architect of my new day.

Attire of lowly and shy grey,
No longer will I clothe my body in your cliché,
Passion is still burning in my paralysed soul,
I need not your stability to make me whole.
Feb 2019 · 2.6k
The Man
Debbie Lydon Feb 2019
I am often in awe of your wild mind,
Despite your defences, I can see you are kind.
I know you believe me to be fickle and blind,
But I see you, and the reason for the wall you hide behind.

There is wonder and beauty that light up your eyes,
Yet everyone falls in love with your careful disguise,
Pain finds its way through your laughs and lies,
And there is sorrow within the man, that like a child, cries.

You can turn all the frowns that you see to a smile,
And upon seeing you, my clouds are cleared for a while,
But who mends the hurt that caused your soul's exile?
And when will you turn to face your denial?

Your cheer does not mask the tragedy inside,
Altruism will not change what you're trying to hide,
Unreachable, unfathomable- two ideas within you, allied,
To win the battle over self and thus deem you fortified.

But this barricade will not defend against flame,
Nature is power and emotion is the same,
We are already on fire, to deny it is insane,
So feel what you will, break the shackles of shame.
Feb 2019 · 3.7k
The Conflagration
Debbie Lydon Feb 2019
I'm told that feeling and love are innate,
So why can't I communicate?
I'm despairing and longing for human connection,
But I'm met with indifference or even rejection.

Internally I harbour thoughts of kindness,
But they wither in the wake of external blindness,
I'm obsessed with truth and authenticity,
And this comes at the detriment of anyone knowing me.

An extreme fear of misunderstanding remains,
Despite me knowing that this is my ball and chain,
A depleting hope lingers on in my dreams,
So fragile and weak, a mere ember it seems.
A poem concerning the difference between the way you are perceived and the way you perceive yourself. A fear of misunderstanding is ever present in a society that is fueled by facades and a cold approach to eachother. It causes pain and this is becoming more and more overt in our day to day lives.
Jan 2019 · 534
Something unkown
Debbie Lydon Jan 2019
Retreating to the inner citadel of my mind,

It is louder than all external voices.

A courage to change I cannot find,

Loosing free will to habitual choices.

An unease resides in my mind of late,

A feeling of wrong from a source unknown,

Like the sun confined by the bold walls of hate,

This hope grows frail when it stands alone.
Dec 2017 · 720
Debbie Lydon Dec 2017
You frivolous heart, what bounds you break,
You torturous mind to inflict such an ache,
Have you not learned nor felt the sting of such thought?
That weaves it's new pattern, for a new mind to wake.

The wondrous onslaught of untried design to take hold,
As a fresh pair of eyes perceive a new pathway, bold,
Wait, yet you know this world brave and new,
Spoken of, no, lived in a story once told.

Are we creatures of pattern and rigid confines?
Or do we linger, intently, at the edge of hope's hard lines?
Oh ineffable conquest, unfathomable veil,
My courage waning in the shadow of bleaker times.

Though elusive, a way I am able to see,
It's evading nature forcing a strain upon my mind and me,
Am I free to escape this passionless pit?
Relinquish fear and abandon what was once identity?

— The End —