At the end of the universe

Posted on by estlh

When people read poetry they interpret it in their own way. I know from comments made to me about my own poetry that if I write a poem about one thing, some people will read it as being about something else entirely. And that is fine. Like any art form, people view it through the lens of their own personal life experience and preferences; it means different things to each of us. That is one of the reasons that I often write a little intro to my poems on this blog – to explain a bit about what I was thinking or feeling when I wrote the poem. But sometimes I don’t want to share that much of myself, and sometimes I just want to throw a poem out there and see how it is interpreted without any hints from me. Today’s poem is not straight forward for me to explain so I’m just going to throw it out there. Comments are encouraged!

Weep with me for the forgotten boy who lies quiet at the end of the universe.

Exiled.

Expelled with such force that he can never find his way home.

And all for a misunderstanding that can never now be explained.

So instead he lies in quiet contemplation

of the injustice of existence.

Wishing he had at least done something worthy of eternal exclusion.

 

At the end of the universe all is clear.

He can look back at what could have been –

The sheer potential afforded to those who so oft neglect it

chasing after instancy instead.

Oh to be once again in the opportune abundance of those at the centre.

 

The tears deluged once, but that stream has now run dry

Futile waters washed away no part of his pain.

His resigned heart long torn in two.

Naive and trusting he yearned at the start for a vindication that never came

Reliant on the honesty of another with naught to gain from confession

and much to lose.

 

So alone he waits.

All angered out

self pity over

indulgent hope abandoned

Surrounded by stardust and cosmic redundancy

 

Weep with me for the forgotten boy who dies quiet at the end of the universe.

 

Secrets

Posted on by estlh

I generally don’t like keeping secrets. Thankfully most of the secrets I keep revolve around birthday presents, surprise parties and the like, so are short lived. They are also the good kind of secret, the kind that you want to tell because you know the reaction will be positive.

But sometimes the knowledge we keep hidden is heavy to bear and we want to lighten the load by sharing it. Much has been written about how keeping secrets can be bad for our health. Occasionally however, the secrets that we keep are not ours to share.

I wish you had not told me that
I did not want to know
But now that I possess the truth
I cannot let it go
My heart cried out ‘this cannot be,
It can’t, it must be lies
But from your face I knew at once –
I read it in your eyes

That scene now stuck in my mind’s eye
never to be erased,
Delivered to me such a shock
It left me feeling dazed
The Nightmare that now plagues my sleep
And interrupts my rest
Have been my night-time company
Since to me you confessed

And all the while the shame of it
That should be yours not mine
Now Haunts my every waking hour
As if by your design
You have made me your companion
In knowledge of this deed
And I can never now forget
I never will be freed

I would I could just run away
The dread of it to flee
But no matter where I go
The truth will follow me.
For all around is tainted now
My illusions undone
The world is a less pleasant place
Your cloud obscures my sun.

I would you had not shared with me
The burden that you bore
For now I find this secret binds
Us two, for evermore

World Poetry day 2022

Posted on by estlh

It was one of those nights . . . so I got up and wrote this.

It’s the end of the day and my eyes are tired
But my brain just will not switch off
My body won’t let me rest either
Preferring to sniffle and cough

But my eyes are just so very tired
The sandman has been with his wares
And yet even this intervention
Won’t let my brain forget its cares

I can no longer keep my eyes open
My limbs found their night-time weight too.
But still in my brain there’s a buzzing
I know will last all the night through.

And now that my eyes are closed tightly
I find I am caught somewhere twixt
The slumber I so much desire
And the wakefulness that still persists

I think that this night might be hopeless
But slumber eventually descends
And just as if waiting this signal
The sun through the peaceful dark rends

Just let me sleep!

Posted on by estlh
https://www.deviantart.com/nakovalnya-artist/art/Insomnia-718713095

One of the things I struggle with most about depression is the effect it has on my sleep. As if my emotions weren’t already all over the place, everything seems worse when I’m tired, especially when I’m exhausted. My energy levels are lowered anyway, and then lack of sleep sends them to rock bottom. Trying to motivate myself to do anything seems nigh on impossible, even if my mind is willing, my flesh is certainly not up to the task. It can feel like I am trying to swim through treacle. Retaining information becomes troublesome – I am usually a quick learner, but in the middle of a period of insomnia I struggle to hold on to anything new. I forget what people tell me and can seem uncaring if I fail to remember something a friend has told me. Work can be challenging as getting my head around some of the maths and frequencies required can be an uphill struggle, when ordinarily they would all just slot into place.

But the worst thing is the irritability. Every. Little. Thing. Is .SO. annoying. I forget where I’ve put something down and get all snappy and accuse people of moving it. Strangers step in front of me in the street, How dare they! I can’t get something to work properly and it ends up flung down in anger! I can almost shake with the adrenalin pumping through me at the slightest provocation. At home is where it hurts most though, my husband is a saint for putting up with me. But it is when I find myself snapping at the kids for doing nothing more than being kids that the guilt starts. I hug them, I apologise and then I worry. Worry about the effect this is having on them, worry that I should be better able to control my irritation around them, and worry again about how this is all effecting them. The kind of worrying that keeps me awake at night . . .
And so the circle continues.

Thankfully, these periods don’t last forever. There are periods when I do get some sleep. There are also some nights when I am assisted by a small pill, although this can result in severe grogginess the next day, and induced sleep does not refresh in the same way as natural sleep.
I have just had to accept that this is something that will happen from time to time. Nights spent tossing and turning with a brain that just won’t switch off can be painfully long, and what helps me one night can have no effect the next. Sometimes getting up and doing something other then trying to fall asleep can help, other times I sit up all night writing poetry . 

I'm currently excelling at insomnia.
 I've got to say I really am the best
 When it comes to lying fretful in the darkness
 While everybody else is getting rest.
 Some would say they do not understand it –
 I really do not need to worry yet,
 About the problem that I'll have a week next Tuesday
 With somebody that I haven’t thus far met.

 I'm currently excelling at insomnia.
 It’s great to say it really is a strength.
 When it comes to stopping me from ever sleeping
 My brain will really go to any length
 Even though my body is exhausted
 My brain, it seems, would like to tell a tail
 About everything and anything and nothing,
 The narrative I just cannot curtail.

 I'm currently excelling at insomnia.
 It's something that I really do quite well
 While everybody else is deep in slumber
 I'm fretting in my own personal hell.
 I don't think this can go on for much longer
 Another night I really can't endure.
 I've spent the week resembling a zombie
 A good night's sleep I really must procure.

 I'm currently excelling at insomnia …