“I love you”. You said and then you slipped away.
Broken dreams, meaningless futile efforts at happiness?
Mingled with useless feelings, promises of safe havens cast aside
Unmatched emptiness, soulless societies tearing apart concrete foundations

Searching with fevered panic, unhealthy unions superseded by drunkenness
Vacant eyes, struggled smiles stare back with futile efforts of understanding
Unreachable depths of ******* broken only by moments of saneness
Interruptions of innocent faces, blankly staring in wonderment at nothingness

Empty sentiment screams from hollowed eyes, foul breath from yellowed rotted smiles
Halo dirtied by unwashed hands, melodies of undying love, waking emotions.
Saneness interrupts
Passions momentarily subside, shameful memories, guilt ridden questions of why.
Seek forgiveness, absolution, resurrection of self worth.
Intimidated inner child crying, wanting wholeness

Inebriated ears cannot hear the mournful cry.
Sightless to the destruction of beautiful dreams
Cynical hearts cannot feel the bottomless abyss, created by selfish needs
Beautiful white light eclipsed by black desires, reality escapes

Averted eyes, wanton lies, excuses spring forth from rancid lips of deception
Healing words cast aside, ***** by visions of drunken ******.
A warped sense of empowerment dissuades sanity.
Trapped in the tentacles of forbidden lust.
Saneness interrupts

Written By Edward Gordon Green.

To behold the daybreak!
-Walt Whitman, Song of Myself from Leaves of Grass

In days like this one,
when rain drops so light
& everything dips
into weeping grey
my sanity longs for memories.

My sanity longs
like impulsive recalling
of plummeting sadness
in greying day
sashaying mournful recollects
from sunrise to daybreak.

Remembering vanishes
in the joyful marrow of life.

There, forgetting lives.

Tell me the last time
bliss comforts your soul.

It is a transient tick
too stiff to evoke.

What about the last time
pain feigns your saneness.

Memories turned into bullets
slitting shrapnel
warping into my soul.

Happiness lasts for a second.
Sadness, a lifetime.

Tell me how to get rid
the hurting clout of ache
existing as a blunt fragment
benign yet reminisced.

Daybreak pours so hard
and my sanity like a waning light
crawls back in a miasmatic cave
along the river known
to be a home of a witch
& her cursing narrative
of throwing silver saucers
making her a spotless shadow
through vestal times
never again a thriving spirit.

Forget Blake. Forget Whitman.

Only in daybreak
where everything
churns into life,
my sanity shrinking back
collapsing
into surreal gaps.

Here & there,
my sanity longs for memories.

This feeling...
Heavy...
Like a wreath bearing down my neck.
Every fibre in me seem to be at loggerheads.

My heart...
Pounding.
Each beat is a hammer
sledging away at my saneness.

My breaths...
Premature and short.
Inconsistent.
I respire full but with punctured lungs.

Waking among the concrete structures
Starting the day running around in earnest
For chores are plenty and time is handful
To begin a new one-hundred-meter-dash
Trying to outdo each other, in an imaginary race
Every stride we take, the concrete takes away our zeal
There is no cushion for the hectic lifestyle
Taking a toll on our mind and body
We seem to have reached somewhere
But end up at the same station, to catch the train
Inadvertently, packing every coach
Few faces we know from our daily commute
Lots of new faces add up to the crowd
We are an individual, but interspersed in the crowd
Waiting to get-off at the daily destination
The concrete pavements and the concrete buildings
Greets us gloomily, although modern architecture
Facades of glass reflecting off the chaos of life outside
Immediately, we are in a grind of the job
Lost in numerous presentations and graphical projections
The pie charts take the sweetness out of our life
Savoring only percentages, with sprinkling of peppery talks
Targets are set and client’s meet are arranged
To strike out a deal and sign-off the nuptials
It’s a marriage of client and service providers
Where brands are hogging the limelight
For us it’s the race to maintain our saneness
As it’s a daily commute through the concrete jungle

I cannot heal
This pain keeps stinging
As each line of thought
Reveals new truths
That are hard to accept
Kindness was repaid with anger
Love with rejection
Faithfulness with betrayal
Devotion with abandonment
Gentleness with rage
Dedication with neglect
Patience with intolerance
Thoughtfulness with disregard
Compassion with coldness
Mercy with judgment
Saneness with unsoundness
Truth and honesty with lies
Open arms and acceptance with bitterness
So why do I feel guilt and sadness
For crimes I did not commit?
Why am I taking the blame for a lie?
To be falsely accused is a worse sentence
Than to be justly condemned
At least the guilty can repent and start a new life
Rather than stay mired in a web of lies
One can learn to accept criticism and move on
Or to laugh at oneself
And in humility make the necessary changes
But this... this slander
Is simply poison
To the soul

step into the light--
show yrself--
my black-eyed,
horned,
*******--
stir me up,
shut me out,
string me up--

end tonight.
the pools
of fear
swirling in your belly
drown the saneness
of my eccentric existence.
end tonight.

step into the light--
show yrself to me,
dripping with sweat,
draining me of strength,
drilling me with smartmouthings--

poison crib.
poison crypt.
pretty curls.
petty cruelty.

hitting bricks,
slitting necks,
creeping beasts,
show yrself.

the moon
beckons you.
the mercy
forgets you.
my fist
tightens.
my blood lightens.
endtimes
begin
with the sanctity
of illumination.

HYPOCHONDRIA

The feeling so real

So disconnecting:
the mind and body surreal

So encapsulating:
the connection of fear to the assumed infirmity

So enchanting:
The assuring gestures of certain saneness

"I'm ok. Its ok."

James GIBEK Jude.

I’m squatting alone on the step here
Thinking of things oblique,
The pictures flash by
Like the clouds in the sky
I’d rather, in truth, be asleep.
The jumble of thoughts are confusing
The tangle of pictures unclear,
A good moody pout
May just sort it all out
But I fear it will end with a tear.

Bad memories are clouding my judgement
Extracting the saneness away
Cold tensions exude & the dark thoughts intrude
And sweet harmony deserts the day.
The nimbus comes rumbling inward
The lightning flashes are sharp
The tempest in my composure
Makes me long to retreat to my heart.

Once the maelstrom’s down apon you
There’s no going back for a breath,
You just hang on like hell
& keep ringing that bell,
And you fight like a tiger to death.
You must gather defences around you
And muster your forces at best,
For the enemy’s here, it’s intentions are clear
And you’re in for a formidable test.

The scarlet slash of malice,
The grinding guilt of sin.
The searing green of envy..
That’s where it does begin.
You bite your lip, you taste the blood,
You clench your fist so tight
You thrash and pound that wretched sound
From whence doth come your plight.
You slip aside so gracefully
Your moves have guile and poise,
You strike with stealth & venom
Completely void of noise.
Endurance is your friend this eve
You’ve got the upper hand.
Just keep your boot upon it’s throat
And win you will.. My man!

From just beyond dark thunder mass
A peep of sunshine beams,
It radiates the sated land,
Reflects from bubbling streams.
The emerald green of grasses
Refract the golden light
The clouds are clearing rapidly
As daylight turns to night.
The sparrows in the hedge are still,
Bright stars begin to shine.
You blink your eyes and shake your head
The water turns to wine.

Oh thought… You are a fickle thing
Mercurial and lithe.
You elevate preposterousness
And take the devil’s side.
You scale the heights and plunge the depths
Without so much as pause,
You hold me in your silk caress
And then apply sharp claws.
The surge of wild excitement
When a line of verse spins in
And the turgid sloth of nothingness
When boredom seeps within.

Why is it so.. This up, this down…
So frivolous for thee
When all, in fact, you do achieve
Is dark torment for me.

Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
30th December 2007

The fire is pretty enough.
Flames
Dance
Dazzling
Bright
Whilst I hold you tight
In the bossom
Of my soul
In any old soul
You could lay there and rest;
But not mine.

I
Rock you like a storm rocks the sea
Holding you carefully,
Haphazardly
And you smile wildly now;
Enjoy the ride
Enjoy the fire--

But wary the smoke
That rises and curls;
The black-ash folds
Which create me.
As you breathe me in
Tasting my sin
Hoping to stay--

Be wary the smoke
Which rises and curls
Toward your nostrils and
Into your lungs...

Perhaps you can breathe.
Perhaps not.

And I'll take in yours
Large sighs fill my lungs
With the dangerous fog that pervades you
And now it knows mine
And as we intertwine,
Time:
Leaves us*

And I---
Like a child, but a thousand years old,
Searching stories, yet told,
For some saneness to hold,
I drink in the silver
and wine--

The silence is killing me
So quiet I can hear my own heart beat
With nothing to say or nothing to do
The only thing I can think of is you
This is not unusual especially for me
Except for the part that its so quiet and lonely
No sound except of my beating heart and falling rain
My thoughts want to burst out of my brain
This silence, so peaceful yet unnerving
Maybe I am deserving
To feel like this so trapped so alone
Even in my own home
I know in second I could be free
Just put on some music that’s all it needs
But yet I cannot ruin this perfect quiet
I wouldn’t be able to even if I tried it
My thoughts slow down to a gentle murmur
Like a gently flowing river
Yet the one thing that seems to make the river flow fast
This thought from my mind I cannot cast
Because if I did I would ruin my joy and happiness
And you wonder what is this thought that could ruin my saneness
This thought is of someone that I hold near
And to me they are very dear
The only one that truly understands me
The only one that truly makes me happy
My mind settles again and though the thought is still there
It is less disruptive and takes more care
To not disturb my river of thought
And then as though I forgot
The silence returns and all I hear is my beating heart

I stare at the Kettle:
Reflection of your vile face.
Has left me in aghast!
Oh, how I wish to erase
Flashback of grotesque past.
Heart seared by the venom
Of disturbing memories
Caused by antagonism.
This rage can’t be appease
Mind becomes murderous.

The Kettle begins to hiss:
The soul simmers with wrath-
Insanely dangerous,
Hungry for a blood bath!
Oh, I wish for a knife
And stab you many times
As you left me in strife
From your abusive crimes.
Wounded me as a child
And left me powerless.

Boiling Kettle rattles:
My madness is wild
Have I lost my saneness?
Many years I’ve been irate-
Tolerating in silence-
Blood boils with sinful hate!
My spirit seeks the thrill
For an eye for an eye-
As it lust for your ****
And to see you die!

Gas sparks, Kitchen ignites:
Body burnt into ashes-
Soul seethes in resentment.
Revenge sweetly slashes
You to my contentment.
Hands stained with red blood
Like trenches of war mud.
Eyes consumed and blind -
Peace of heart now confined
By rapacious rage.

Mind is a Murderer!
Am I a Murderer!
Will I ever surrender?
Will I ever surrender
And taste tranquility?
Or is my spirit cursed?
Or is my spirit cursed
To be trapped by the thirst
Of the boiling kettle
That will never settle
Until vengeance scorches!

(c)Jo Swan 2018

I am grateful for these hours of sleep
but four or five are just not enough
so here I am awake
having left in bed
the sweet muddled foggy chamber
where some mysterious mystical mighty force
knits together the disparate broken seams
through which my saneness fell
the previous day.

I believe in being awake
to the richness hiding in every day.
I know how easy it is to miss
in the banging clattering hiss
the inexpressible gift
of now.

But I also know
what a full night’s sleep can do
to chase away the blues
and recapture the few joys
and surprises nestled
and stashed
in the mystic cache
of each day.

So I beg whatever angels
guard that muddled foggy chamber
to again admit me
grant me gladness
and the saving gift
of a full night’s sleep.

It is not simply creativity, but also some therapy--
of hearts that are drowned in a different galaxy.

Maybe lost in time of precious memories,
or perhaps orbiting space filled with fantasies.

And by turning those into aesthetic literary pieces,
only then, that the heart gains access (or excuse)...
back to Earth's saneness.

insaneness
behind sane,
and saneness
behind that
insaneness
are behind
insanity

maybe i don’t deserve to be stable
my mind always did love wandering
yet somehow
it never embraces changes

needless to say
the thin veil crowning my brain
faded
when i replaced it
with red pins and needles
but one too many
led to sudden and mass vacation

after all my hard work
hours of painting

bars
the pillars of our cages

i always did love to wander-
lust was taking my saneness  
i left a piece of me behind
after every visitation to strangers
and i wonder how it is today
that my thoughts take me nowhere

when they’re in a million different places

once so such a goal ultimate had
a temporal design a lust
had three score frames a rhyme at each pause
made sense if not had timing down to
syncopathy right on
came around from a saneness start
to an anticipated foreshadowed ending
made sense when on the first perusal
no need to read ten times and still be
confused
but then
new
like
the birth of pointilism
became a dot
a new thing I thought of
had to do
make something no one else
had not too
in the  end when not is compared to too
the differences make none
or few

to sneak the meanings deep inside by you
with rosy projections
with colored metaphors
and rhyming words

it all comes out whether i meant it to
or did not really
like Freud projected
the Id and sub me
is  caught into      

the vocabulary time the  mixing of a word
with a rhyme
or a consonant
a verb conflicting
with saneness
or tense so

Suddenly caves aren't a place he is safe. Placement that's changed him in ways he cant shake. Chained then to Megan its drainin his faith. Save him I pray lend him patience and grace. Days spent he pays rent on cages he hates. Strainin his brain bent its blatant its rage.  Sway him from fake friends and raise him from graves. Staying his saneness with ancient embrace.

Finally back in my own stable home
Where everything has it’s place
And remains where I left it
I know where the light switches are
Even in the dark
And I can flush the toilet
Anytime
Without waking anyone up
My neighbors are still having their loud
Nightly ***
I’m glad they’re still going at it
When everything changes
It’s the things that stay the sameses
That help me keep my saneness