Because it’s National Poetry Day 2014, I thought I’d break my blogging silence by posting some of my poetry. And by ‘poetry’ I mean a stream of consciousness of rage and emotion rarely fitting into any neat style, bad spelling and all, just raw words spurting out. So three little poem like creatures:

The Flood

It comes up from nowhere
Wells up breaches all my defences
Deluge inundation
I’m saturated, heavy with sediment
Not life giving
But stagnant red

Targets

I used the word existential
Said I must be intelligent
None of your therapy
Got me out if this predicament
Said I wasn’t complying
When I just wasn’t lying
I honestly just couldn’t see
Any reason logically
Any event, any thing
That had me feeling like I did
Even mental illness has to conform
Fit into a small box on a form
In 16 sessions , no more
I see why they call it a revolving door
5 years later I’m here once more

Think I’m just not meant for this world
I see too much, feel too, much get hurt
I try so hard, but can’t describe it in words
It’s in the bit of me that’s primal
Something in here fighting for survival
That predates language & expression & words
So elusive it feels like a curse
That part if the soul, so deep, so old
So much more than I can ever know
I get joy too, but it’s this sadness that shows
That drags me down so far below
Down deep to the centre where magma flows
To the kernel of everything we know

If course I can’t make it easy to explain
Or find a concrete reason for this pain.
You can’t make my soul about targets.

Some Kinda Clarity

As my mind clears I start to write poetry
Blessed relief to feel the words flow through me
After months of a stagnant mind silent inside
A pretence of stability just hiding the misery
Of being cut off from the vitality inside of me
As the fake chemicals reduce , removing the sluice
Letting it all flow loose
Embrace the flood
Renewal – new life from the alluvium
A World springs from the watery nuum
After the flood all is reborn
After the flood creation
Destruction then Personal Cosmogony

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Yet another night I can’t sleep
Wombs pulsing bleeding
Hormones mixing with psychiatric drugs
Insomnia potent & sleep unwilling
Active brain still singing whilst tired body craves rest
No matter where I lay my head
No silence no peace just echoes of me
Vivid thoughts of life unlived & things undone regrets restraints
I lie & lie willing silence to come
Light breaks the blind
Words beg to be freed
No freedom in sleep

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In honour of National Poetry Day, I am going to sing the praises of Enheduanna, whose name is displayed below in cuneiform, the first known author and poet.

enheduanacunieform

A Brief Biography  of Enheduanna

Writing around 2500 BCE in the city of Ur (in what is now Iraq), she was the first fully attested holder of the En Priestess of Nana title which became a long lasting office traditionally held y the daughter of the King and which was one of the most influential religious offices. Despite being Akkadian she composed in Sumerian, the language of the religious and literary traditions of the Sumerian south, which was newly conquered by her father, King Sargon of Akkad. To further assert his dominance over the Sumerian south and to create a sense of unity between the two cultures Enheduanna was tasked with composing a series of  Hymns known as ‘The Sumerian Temple Hymns’ designed to be read in all the temples of Sumer and Akkad.     The office she held, En Priestess, may itself have been designed to suit this new idea of religious and cultural unity between Sumer and Akkad, taking elements from older traditions and creating a new office.  The office of En Priestess – The High Priestess of the moon God Nana at Ur – lasted for hundreds of years after Enheduanna and there is evidence later En Priestesses were aware of Enheduanna and held her up as a influential figure; indeed she may have been elevated to a semi divine status.

(more…)

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