Posts tagged ‘depression’

November 18, 2016

religion: media

what i have learned since last Tuesday,
and the sunny Tuesday before that

which so unceremoniously passed,
is that when someone tells me something

is a true something, it usually is. the labels.
the fears. the concerns. impending doom,

obviously. the end. i understand that
it usually is, and not just some spectacle

to make you watch over there. or closer.
i mean, no one ever cries wolf anymore.

no one really gets paid to say. or maybe i’ve
wasted 2 years of my life for their chance at 4.

or maybe the 67 bus will arrive late today,
so i can wait longer. man, my good ambitions.

and nothing ever changes. here comes the sun
slowly shedding light onto such fancy.

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October 30, 2015

Proof of an Afterlife

It’s hard to believe in an afterlife.
You lose a lot of people close to you
and October mornings seem colder.
Things appear more apart,
even shoelaces have to cross lines.
I think at least half of me died,
while the other part doesn’t mind…

Ben Franklin and his buddy had a pact
where whoever died first would
come back and say a code word,
like “rosewood”
or “cheery tree”
or I don’t know. Google it…
And they would just know there
was an afterlife—it never happened…

I think if I die the only proof of afterlife
will come in this form: I will come back
as a ghost at 3 in the morning
and raid all of the leftovers
in my mother’s fridge.
It will be loud and unmistakable, this proof.
And then I will be gone forever,
off to a hard sleep. And the very next day
when asked about it, all concerned,
I will bold face lie. There’s your proof.

September 12, 2014

Testing Salt

Waking each day to test my resolve

Walking around with patience

Living through the storm and calm

Resisting tumultuous agents

August 6, 2014

Counseling

Broken concepts,
And I used to use colloquialisms frequently.

Is that a fact?
Glib drab, parted ways we react.

I haven’t pressed so hard with a pen in years;
maybe at counselor,
maybe before I tasted beer.

One can easily forget- what, with all of the prescriptions: Prozac, Zoloft, Ambien, and Effexor… These are words that won’t come underlined red; that common- for the better.

Does the kid have a mental problem, or does the country have a label and pharmaceutical problem?

You be the judge__

I have this many problems: to the nth degree.

I need better; fix me.

He wrote with passion, they say that in past-tense.

He had ideas,
he used words,
spoke when they allowed,
when they told him enough(!) he didn’t make a sound.

Now he changes his ways to reflect that language is sediment.

Trash amassed at each letter’s small feet,
from history they suck like a leach,
from years ago, and now today,
the words we use have their own ways.

Each one speaks through me.
Is it a drug addict or a patient that you see?

***

“The doctor is ready to see you now…”

***

My face was clay when I looked into that mirror somehow.

June 19, 2014

Minor Details

Eyes in front,
Focusing on some high-rise Ant Farm

Minor details…

No coffee; none for sale.

Thoughts on our time
When contemporaries write on depression
And how they want to write,
Immodestly mentioned

Do they write for words or recognition?

In my mind,
At the beach
Shirtless,
An ex heroin addict describes me as fat- I react.

Paltry people
Trite intention
Sad appeal
Apathetic apprehension

Now,

Off to work
Watching busy professionals pace hard by
Begging for fame- notice me! They say.
-Under heavy skies.

April 14, 2014

wie zum sterben

Monologue of Lovers;
One contends never to exist, as is necessity of endearing Conversationalists.
Words castes, molds, and shows what’s to discover of each other.

Touch of the Shut-in,
Cold frost thoughts mingled, with those of a summer’s mist.
Running through to grounds around, hark to those akin.

Designed to hold Time,
A clock’s arms link-locked tight tense to tick.
Shoe gazers watch cracks to find prized dimes in the mix.

Disintegrating at pure elegance,
She dances early day just to pull on a dress and necklace.
Proper smile outlined deep red to impress, enacting her relevance.

Lack of audacious Antidote,
A self-wound wrapped bound left to forget.
Layers that bond only to be pulled in two; torn, and then reset.

Absolutist human likely assumed close to the rest;
Comprised of simple puzzles, a simple life -of to think and act- while we stand in ‘present-tense’.

-Until our bell’s been rung for eternal rest.

And at that day,

In so many ways

Others will speak with passionate pride and distraught sentiment.

But we won’t.

 

***

The voice decays into oblivion with the body.  

October 23, 2013

bad day etc.

 

Trying to feel as though I’m not under the weather.

 

Whether for ill or for better.

 

Love letters scribed by loyal setters:

We long for our health.

 

Wine stained teeth and free range beef.

Headache, sick pains, and cold feet.

 

Rain, snow, or sleet,

Each night we tire ourselves over sleep.

 

And in the morning we wake with a leap.

 

Startled sound alarm clock.

As wood floors creek and retreat.

 

Not all was lost;

We found time.

 

What kind of day was it?

I can’t tell….

One night of fun can turn a whole weekend to hell…

 

There are plenty more in stock.

As if we are so drunk; we pretend we forgot.

December 22, 2012

Winter Solstice

A semblance of light as seen in the dark, amid transport, a mere spark; washboard streets littered with ice and snow, touched slightly by brown matter, illuminated by waxy yellow bulbs which hang above, and the semi shown moon, shaded frequent by cloud mass.

(Life is a class, an education, always learning something new.)

Your doubts are about you, your mind wonders to something true.

Traveling is innate and thoughtless.

Time travel is priceless.

A punctual prospect.

Darkness seems darkest before the shortest day of annual; winter depression has just set in, and already, it has worn out its welcome.

Depression is subjective.

Who can object?

I doubt them.

The loved ones are gone, here for a moment, then away again in the next.

We have fought, we have thought, we have cherished the moments we have lost, and then our mind is flexed.

Vexed.

We do what is best, we do nothing.

We stretch out waiting patiently for the rest, then we subject ourselves to something.

The seasons.

A destination is met.

I look outside once more before I shut the door on a winter’s day.

What have I to forget?

October 1, 2012

A Modern Fix (Anti-depressants)

Going to the Asian store to buy Mexican food.

Bled through so much I had to change the sheets to hide clues.

 

That’s honest.

A Daily allotment of rotten.

 

***

 

Smashing magnets outside to build a positive connection.

Fragments stuck to the hammer’s metal.

 

Yelling at the television inside due to lack of attention.

Another form of socially unsettled.

 

Real Sunday and Monday.

Real Blurred together.

 

Sore voice prevention, too late for reception.

 

Book 101, open to see words, to take a look.

Lying in bed, I hear birds.

Lying in bed alone, I feel discouraged.

 

Searching the tiny details-reading precisely; slowly like a snail to prevail over fail nightly…

 

Leaves left to the street make me ponder.

Line, sinker, and hook.

 

Why bother?

 

Floating away on the wind again, my mind wonders.

Turning to dirt and fodder.

 

(On Anti-depressants)

 

Who tells you about your problems?

And who sells the pills that solve them?

 

Is it the same person?

Is it urgent?

 

Be the judge.

 

We learn, then moments later amnesia.  Diseased, these are just answers to please.

Prescription rather than Environmental Therapy.

All that stuff really isn’t scaring me.

 

Apparently, all problems are clear to see.

 

Bio-feed like biology:

I fix me.  You fix you too.

True.  True.

Who knew?

I guess we all just grew.

 

Now, turn off the news and strap on some shoes, you psycho.

🙂

 

 

 

July 15, 2012

Her Name is Taken (part 1)

Her Name is Taken

 

Hard times are had when trying to not think of her.

Usually reading about the past, objectively.

Although that is subjective.

 

Imagination working overtime for peanuts.

 

Thoughts twist, bend, and crawl-toward me.

Hands outstretched.

Buzzing, like high, like climbing up the wall.

 

Like goodbye and don’t call.

Like Goodbye, don’t call.

 

Please.

 

Ring, ring, ring.

 

If looks could kill, the world would end at her feet.

If wits could kill, she should try to keep her mouth shut as to save us all.

 

She walks, talks, and knows everything.

 

A little girl looking for purity and compassion.

A boy in the same boat.

Imagining life-

Where only good things happen, and most decent things stay afloat.

 

Falling into view, though, my eyes frequently gaze to stall.

Everywhere, and all

Everywhere, and all.

Seeing everything and all.

 

Most hardly notice.

 

Blink, and the picture is lost…

 

Gone like the sun after dusk.

 

Like the wind.

 

So close to capturing a mythological being, but the wrought was for naught.

She’s a shapeshifter and compulsive drifter.

 

And she didn’t come with any of the special features neither.

 

Tug of war between teacher and believer.

Words and silence.

 

Diligent preacher lying for leisure.

Pupils to closed eyelids.

 

But the problem is meager.

Just meager.

 

***

 

Um, yeah…

What were we talking about again?