The Fools Progress PART #1
Recovery Poetry
Namaste all ~ there is some pretty dark stuff in the beginning ~ this stuff was written to record my mental process and progress during the struggle ~ i’ve broken it into two parts ~ because of the spacing it is 27 pages . . . .
(The Pain and Revelations of Recovery)
like peter pan
i am
searching
for my shadow
in
this house
full
of loneliness
my soul
echoing
it’s cacophony
&&&
BOUND
by loss by carnal
accident
a future of misfortune
abandoned
to the uncare
of others
an unwanted child
left alone
to excavate a life
from the aftermath
of alcoholic parents
&&&
i tried to love my father
he abandoned me
i tried to love my mother
she neglected me
i tried to love friends
they rejected me
i tried to love an aunt
she molested me
i tried to love my stepfather
he abused me
i tried to love my stepbrother
he raped me
i tried to love a girl
she laughed at me
i tried to love a woman
she betrayed me
i tried to love another
she manipulated me
i tried to love myself
but have found only pain.
&&&
i’ve been feeling
left behind
like a shadow
in the light
will i die
starved
for the love i never find
living my years searching
leaving
hints of me behind.
&&&
DARK DAYS
i lived
my dark days
in the shadows of dragons
these shape changers
taking on many forms
never any one of them
small enough
to hide under my bed
so that’s where i hid
from alcohol enraged adult
with clenched fist
from the bullwhip sting
of extension cords
from the degradation
of sexual assault
from the humiliation
of ridicule and condemnation
never
understanding
how
they always found me
(even today)
whether hidden behind success
oblivion or isolation
learning only now
that dragons never die
and
that they can never be slain
but that
they can be tamed
subdued
with tid-bits of forgiveness
compassion, understanding
and unconditional
love
&&&
within
the skull
the secret shattered heart
falling
into gray
nothingness
solitary
consuming apathy
envious
of those already dead
&&&
i you
leave stay
separation
it is
just as it is
&&&
Co-DEPENDENT
i rearrange
my face
(face sad) (facade)
to be closer
to whatever
i thought
you must have wanted
&&&
SILENTLY I SCREAM
slouching deeper into the darkness
doors
of the subconscious of winter’s night
slide open
stirring
settled ashes
of the past
silently i scream
like the winter wind
shadows
race
rampant
through corridors
of cold recollection
icy silence
shattered
by bitter memories
waves
high frequency oscillations
of contempt
of disgust
of resentment
reverberate within
inner sanctums
silently i scream
&&&
outside the window
days have passed
but here
in this darkened room
there is only now
&&&
i barely exist
daily
dealing
with petty emotions
(mine and of those around me)
am i cursed
to live an existence with no meaning
outside of death
does death itself have any meaning
outside of ending
a meaningless existence
&&&
“ROOTS”
he said
sitting there
in his psychiatrist chair with thin lipped smile
and smug countenance
“YOU’VE GOT TO PUT DOWN ROOTS”
but
like Nyo Gen
and the mushroom
i too am seedless
i have no deep roots or branches
thus
being left free
of karmic connections
through earthly ties
no
there will be no
physical metaphysical
genetic traces
no earthly ties
no roots
&&&
i know enough about 'myself'
to know
i don’t know enough
about my 'self'
&&&
trying
to reach
a state of
continuous awareness
but
finding it hard
to stop the fantasizing
i used
to hide in
from
the hell
i grew up in
&&&
we help ease the pain
in each other’s lives
with words
with hugs
with passion
surrendering silently
to the morning to the confines
of reality
until once again
it all
becomes
unbearable pain
and
we find ourselves
floundering
In the camouflage
of lies denials
illusions
and
procrastination’s
In desperation
we reach out
to touch
the heart
of one who knows
&&&
behind the eyes
memories
beyond
remembering
pain
heavy in the heart
damn aging years of life
like the darkness of stone
&&&
i have always existed thus
on the edge
of each passing moment
at the perimeter
of light
lurking
in the shadows
of the periphery
cognizant surreal
&&&
long have i stood here
waiting
for you
the years fly by
my hair turning gray
how much longer
can i go on this way
&&&
i am grown older than even i imagined
the paradigm i dreamed of
does not exist
and ‘Belief’
is only the beginning
of suffering
everything deceives
my
mind
now
always a quiet thunder
all living things i see
seem pulled into pain
and all innocence
fallen into a dream called death
everything is madness
many things once lived for
coming apart
there is nothing to worship
the old fear
is NOT
what can be done
TO you
but what YOU
might do
yourself
or
fail
to do
everything is hard
i have grown older
older than even i imagined
&&&
the fear
of growing old alone
does not
out weigh
the dread
of growing old
and miserable
and bitter
with another
simply because
one fears
growing old alone
&&&
there is no path
except the path
i am on
it is
The Way
and
i walk it alone
i move
knowing
there is no clear direction
my path
unfolds before me
a day at a time
an hour at a time
&&&
floundering
in the eternal moment
groping
for the edges of reality
like
a drowning man
in the deep end of the pool
&&&
through all the pain
i swore i’d never
trust love
again again
but
without these
there is
only only
fear hate
&&&
weary heart
hidden away
no objective
no direction
no love
cold spring wind
makes my eyes water
&&&
sitting
white wall watching
jamming cerebral cortex
signals
feeling
heart beat blood flow
lungs pumping
repressing
urges
to
yawn
to stretch to fart
trying
not to grasp at
serenity
sitting
enfolded
into
the eternal moment
&&&
traversing a lifetime
moment to moment
is enough
i don’t ask for more
for
there is
nothing more
&&&
there have been times
when I’ve reached out
and drew back arms full
of nothing
&&&
candle lit Buddha
holds in it’s lap
a handful
of shadows
Nirvana Stillborn
&&&
sitting alone
wishing
there was someone to talk to
but glad that there isn’t
because i have nothing to say
&&&
the anger
the pain
the hurt
the sorrow
gone
only emptiness
remains
&&&
small Buddha
so silent
on the shelf
reminds me of The Way
&&&
like a razors edge
The Way
is narrow
i am not Buddha
but i try
to take The Middle Way
in all things
&&&
it no longer seems
that where i want to be
is just around the corner
from where i am
&&&
we know
the misery of days
of longing
and disappointment
the faked details
of our intimacy’s
the lies
that become obvious
it seems we needed our
prisons
seeing
little by little
the failure of our reason
we pick away the scabs
of shame
and fear and awful getting
seeking
that which lies hidden
that which existed
before time
knowing
suddenly
that time itself
has become a thief
stealing
the precious moments
needed
to somehow
work it all through
as the clock ticks away
&&&
more than once
this weekend you said
i looked sad
you are not the first to tell me
to lighten up
but sadness
haunts some of us
more than others
ghosts
of a senseless confusing past
lurk
around every possibility
of the present
causing
a sense of foreboding
at even the happiest moments
&&&
i am still transcribing more scribbles from mouse chewed scraps of paper
This is so powerful, sad and hopeful as well. My heart goes out to you. Namaste~