The exercise:
Our writing word for today is: delusions.
Took a quick family trip up to Penticton this morning to do a major stock up on groceries. We should be good for a while now.
It was easily the best Max has been on a lengthy drive in a long time. Getting back home was a little more work, but we've seen worse. Maybe he's finally getting used to the idea of being strapped into his car seat, despite his ability to walk/run.
We won't be testing that any time soon, but it's encouraging nonetheless.
Mine:
If they tell me
Those same old lies,
That I should not
Believe my eyes,
I may just do
Something unwise.
I own this truth,
It's just for me!
It's not my fault
They cannot see
What's plain as day,
Like a marquee.
They say my mind
Has lost its way.
They say they'll hope,
They say they'll pray.
But I don't need
Them any way.
3 comments:
Heh, it sounds like you must have had a small tantrum on your hands then as he objected to not being allowed to run home alongside the car! Well done on getting through it though!
I like the jaunty, independent tone of the poem today, and the use of the world marquee in the second verse!
Delusions
"And how long have you been seeing policement for?" Dr. Fraud's tone was calm and steady, just as the refresher course he'd been on had recommended. He'd felt that the refresher course was seriously out of touch with the exigencies of modern pyschological practice, but at least they hadn't tried to insist that the DSM V was the only guide to mental illness.
"Since I started working," said the young man sitting on the couch. His face was sad and drawn, and his voice was listless. He was poking himself in the side with a pen. Dr. Fraud was wondering if he could describe this as self-harm or not. Self-harm was easily diagnosed with a prescription for a strong sedative and a lengthy course of therapy.
"Then I would definitely say you are delusional," said Dr, Fraud, making a decision. "The police department are all on strike for two weeks for better pay and fewer criminals."
"I work for the police department," said the young man. His uniform agreed with his words.
"Clearly delusional," said Dr. Fraud. "I just told you they're on strike, so you cannot be working if you are one of them. Yet you claim you are."
"...right."
My world feels twisted
As if everything is abstract
Nothing is level
Even you now are a twisted blur
In the midst of morning
Everything lingers around me
As if gravity has never existed
The air chills my bones
I feel so frozen I could shatter
If I cry my tears will float away
As if never existing at all
I feel lost in this twisted version of me
Reality has nested its way in
to my broken heart
When I scream silence implodes my voice
As if sound has never existed
I wonder if your gentle voice was an illusion
My world is twisted and disrupted
Is it beyond fixable?
Will my world have to shatter
Be put back together piece by piece
For it to be level once more?
For everything to return the way it should be?
Things shatter in thin air
They float away as if never existing
As if none of it meant anything
As the wind picks up
You dissipate to dust
Everything being blown out of reach
Everything twisted beyond my control
Nothing seems salvageable
I reach for it all
I reach out for you
I scream for you
My voice is nothing but silent illusions
My tears are nothing but false hopes
Greg - oh good lord, I can just imagine him wanting to do that...
Good to hear from Dr. Fraud again, it's been much too long! Though I'm not sure that poor policeman is quite so pleased as I...
Shelby - hello and welcome to the blog! Thanks for stopping in to share your writing with us and I hope we'll see more from you here :)
Wonderful poem, full of emotion and vivid imagery. I think my favorite line is "If I cry my tears will float away", but it's a close call with several others.
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