"saneness" poems
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.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 10:31 PM UTC
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.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 12:14 PM UTC
A storm,
a sandstorm,
a blinding sandstorm!
Grits of gold
inebriated with a haunted hurricane
danced with a fiendish fervour
in its search for identity.
Glare of gold blinds,
grip of greed delirates.
Like a marauding butcher,
slivers of gold
gouged out your saneness.
You danced
like a possessed,
with the yellow glister
holding your hand to the funeral pyre of your created destiny.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
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
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Cherokee Nation was ******
From their way of life
Their blades and knives
Were banned and their wives.....
Cherokee Justice I will ask
Where is the saneness to this life
So proud to live and so sad
And death welcome to those so bad ...
Took their way of life
Turned them to shirts and ties
Took their way to live
As their young still cries....
Their Mother town given by the creator
Just one drop of blood to each
Each one important as the last
Cherokee, all was taken but not the past ...
I have Cherokee in my blood
So proud to say
With the flashback of their lives
They Cant take that Away....
Debbie Brooks 2014
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
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
Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 5:15 PM UTC
“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.
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 11:21 PM UTC
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.
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 9:02 PM UTC
why must it always end this way ?
the feeling of being unwanted .
unappreciated .
unloved .
by the ones who are supposed to love
the real me
the most .
what do you do when you're thrown into a tidal
wave of emotions ?
a hurricane of thoughts
i feel like a tsunami
has wrecked the last bits
and pieces
of my saneness .
my sanity .
my reason .
trying to hold on
is just so tiring .
especially when it seems as though
no one wants to see you achieve your dreams .
discouragement is such a tiresome feeling .
exhaustion is also a feeling I know all too well .
always on go .
doing what I thought would keep
you at bay
but as always
you can't even say it to me .
hiding behind what you think would protect
you .
like a child .
oh i wonder how that feels ?
to have someone who will fight your battles ,
for you .
instead of being on the opposing team .
i wonder how it feels to have a family .
my supposed "first" team ..
what's supposed to be my "main" support.
my lifelines
so what happens when the ones
you never thought would make you feel
the feeling you always feel the most ,
make you feel those feelings you hate feeling
the most ?
you crumble ,
even more so than before
you collapse and you decay
until you're nothing but
a fine powder that hopefully no one ingests .
pure crazy at it's finest ,
a drug for sure .
but , this one ?
It kills.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 12:31 PM UTC
My essences are stirred by different levels
Welcoming me to the barred desires
Animalistic urges calling through the night
The world inside me awakens during full moon.
I am letting all forbidden in all orifices
Soul of rationality is despised in the moment
Guided by scents and pain and numbing pleasures
Beyond the breaking point of a woman’s capacity.
Seeing redness to whiteness into blackness
Oozing liquid of passion on the physique
Questioning the saneness of the activities
No known other emotions but hedonistic feelings.
Not just one or two but three to five
Pushing me to the limits of hell and heaven
Pulling me up through the veil of my tresses
Waxing me with unknown or poisonous berries.
The human in me denies any strings to normalcy
Slaving myself to reach my very own end
Submitting to any lustrous worldly position
Monsters are claiming my very life and spirit.
Coaxing me to release any hidden thoughts
Marking me with words and unclean actions
But the breath of me acknowledges no light tonight
Tasting an overflowing cup of the abyss frees me.
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC
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.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
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--
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
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
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:20 AM UTC
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
Jun 28, 2011
Jun 28, 2011 at 1:44 PM UTC
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.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
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.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 2:29 AM UTC
Lately you happen to be the common ground between my heart's saneness and my mind's absurdity
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC
insaneness
behind sane,
and saneness
behind that
insaneness
are behind
insanity
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 6:10 PM UTC
war is a maddness
causing much too much saddness
let saneness prevail
Mar 24, 2022
Mar 24, 2022 at 6:15 AM UTC
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
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 3:03 PM UTC
war is a madness
that causes too much sadness
let saneness prevail
Jun 4, 2024
Jun 4, 2024 at 8:10 PM UTC
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
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
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
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 4:26 AM UTC