Array
(
    [sid] => 186559
    [catid] => 1
    [aid] => mick
    [title] => A Schizophrenic/'/s Journal
    [time] => 2019-09-23 11:33:39
    [hometext] => 
    [bodytext] => I<br />
Strained eyes for brief second close<br />
A sleeping pulse ignites as anticipation and anxiety grows<br />
With the 13th hour/'/s chime killing midnight/'/s silence<br />
As the cacophonous echo consumes empty passageways seeking penance<br />
While pall bearers prepare once more for their solemn procession<br />
Murderers of troubled souls they are; giving no release from the abjection<br />
Trembling footsteps upon checkered marble pace<br />
As shadows speak their treachery while having yet no face<br />
Where upon padded walls pseudo-innocent memories reside<br />
Colorful renditions drawn in crayon where childhood demons hide<br />
For the sun no longer shines through crayola panes<br />
Through which endless hours are spent dreaming of dancing in summer rains<br />
Wondering when the sun/'/s warmth will once more caress this wayward soul<br />
And sleepless eyes can rest reclaiming from them what was once stole<br />
<br />
II<br />
 Fragments of colored paper are strewed across the floor<br />
With every footstep/'/s breath they dance; calling they do implore<br />
A shattering soul lies wandering aimlessly<br />
As nightmares dressed as memories test a weakened mind/'/s fragility<br />
With every passing second revealing a nearly forgotten detail<br />
That should have remained hidden within the shadows yet they prevail<br />
Their raspy screams resound and threaten<br />
Falling upon ears on a plane between Hell and Heaven<br />
Amongst the insane within these walls serenity is granted<br />
As glassy eyes stare blankly through an imaginary window enchanted<br />
Upon an artificial sunrise burned within unrested sight<br />
Surrounded by walls once untainted, pure white<br />
Now a technicolor biographical tome<br />
Bidding a wayward spirit; welcome home<br />
<br />
III<br />
Fleeting days to fleeting years<br />
Memories remain an incumbent of self-induced fears<br />
As once vibrant eyes turned lifeless, medications/'/ pawn<br />
Awaken reluctantly to a fluorescent dawn<br />
With silent whispers replacing consciousness<br />
Singing a lullaby that does not bring rest<br />
While accompanied by the tapping of hard rubber soles<br />
Resounding through dimly lit corridors and sedated souls<br />
Death/'/s hands carry forth unto hell their creation<br />
Until the footfalls cessation<br />
When the mind numbing silence is replaced by the eerie jingle of keys<br />
And a lock/'/s tumbler clicks the final countdown answering final pleas<br />
Setting a resolution date<br />
One day early yet one day too late<br />
<br />
IV<br />
The evening that the resolution came<br />
It vanished that evening just the same<br />
An escape that vaguely did just seem<br />
To fade away like a childhood dream<br />
With tongue now numbed<br />
Light-headed; mind has succumbed<br />
Staring blankly under heavy sedation<br />
Motionless in desolate isolation<br />
Memories flicker as if a fragile flame<br />
Once again just a number without a name<br />
Sitting upon the floor of a room often forgotten<br />
A prodigal son once; now no longer begotten<br />
Eyes dance behind lids/'/ reluctant closure<br />
As medications/'/ grasp weakens; relinquishing hold of its stolen treasure<br />
<br />
V<br />
Thoughts like wildfire have began to run<br />
A birth of a new dawn yet remaining under the glare of a fluorescent sun<br />
Rubbing temples gently caress<br />
Through their lies inner demons do confess<br />
Returning consciousness forcibly willed<br />
Perception of time no longer distilled<br />
Tiny marks have kept time covering the walls and door<br />
With pieces of plaster big and small now lining the checkered floor<br />
The lights flicker, a shadow stirs, welcome home old friend<br />
As black and white merge, there is no gray, this tunnel has no end<br />
In the midst of sound/'/s last breath<br />
Tumblers once again rise and fall with a whisper/'/s death<br />
Silence has a new chapter to the story wrought<br />
An exit/'/s gift a soul has bought<br />
<br />
VI<br />
By rite of passage through deafness, awareness is reawakened<br />
Sanity now tangible flexes and does bend<br />
Down an endless passageway countless footsteps are taken<br />
Though memories and thoughts constantly battle yet both have been forsaken<br />
Motion constant yet standing still<br />
No clocks in sight with time to kill<br />
As an indentured spirit unexpectedly found<br />
A timid mind to a fevered heart is bound<br />
Casting aside the corpse of an existence no longer needed<br />
Homage paid to a master whose words are perpetually heeded<br />
Imagination is the result of reality/'/s abjection<br />
Poised before a mirrored glass the image beheld is not a reflection<br />
To and fro gazing upon the ultimate corporeal question<br />
To have a life living in Hell or grasping death within Heaven<br />
??<br />
    [comments] => 2
    [counter] => 57
    [topic] => 59
    [informant] => farscape_prophet
    [notes] => 
    [ihome] => 0
    [alanguage] => english
    [acomm] => 0
    [haspoll] => 0
    [pollID] => 0
    [score] => 0
    [ratings] => 0
    [editpoem] => 1
    [associated] => 
    [topicname] => psychoticpoems
)
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    <title>Your Poetry Dot Com - A Schizophrenic's Journal</title>
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                                                            <b>A Schizophrenic's Journal</b>
                                                        </font><br>
                                                        <font class="tiny"><b>Date:</b> Monday, 23rd September 2019 @ 11:33:39 AM AEST<br><b>Topic:</b> Sad Poetry</font><br><br>
                                                        <font class="content">Contributed By: farscape_prophet<br><br>
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                                                    <font class="content">
                                                       I<br />
Strained eyes for brief second close<br />
A sleeping pulse ignites as anticipation and anxiety grows<br />
With the 13th hour/'/s chime killing midnight/'/s silence<br />
As the cacophonous echo consumes empty passageways seeking penance<br />
While pall bearers prepare once more for their solemn procession<br />
Murderers of troubled souls they are; giving no release from the abjection<br />
Trembling footsteps upon checkered marble pace<br />
As shadows speak their treachery while having yet no face<br />
Where upon padded walls pseudo-innocent memories reside<br />
Colorful renditions drawn in crayon where childhood demons hide<br />
For the sun no longer shines through crayola panes<br />
Through which endless hours are spent dreaming of dancing in summer rains<br />
Wondering when the sun/'/s warmth will once more caress this wayward soul<br />
And sleepless eyes can rest reclaiming from them what was once stole<br />
<br />
II<br />
 Fragments of colored paper are strewed across the floor<br />
With every footstep/'/s breath they dance; calling they do implore<br />
A shattering soul lies wandering aimlessly<br />
As nightmares dressed as memories test a weakened mind/'/s fragility<br />
With every passing second revealing a nearly forgotten detail<br />
That should have remained hidden within the shadows yet they prevail<br />
Their raspy screams resound and threaten<br />
Falling upon ears on a plane between Hell and Heaven<br />
Amongst the insane within these walls serenity is granted<br />
As glassy eyes stare blankly through an imaginary window enchanted<br />
Upon an artificial sunrise burned within unrested sight<br />
Surrounded by walls once untainted, pure white<br />
Now a technicolor biographical tome<br />
Bidding a wayward spirit; welcome home<br />
<br />
III<br />
Fleeting days to fleeting years<br />
Memories remain an incumbent of self-induced fears<br />
As once vibrant eyes turned lifeless, medications/'/ pawn<br />
Awaken reluctantly to a fluorescent dawn<br />
With silent whispers replacing consciousness<br />
Singing a lullaby that does not bring rest<br />
While accompanied by the tapping of hard rubber soles<br />
Resounding through dimly lit corridors and sedated souls<br />
Death/'/s hands carry forth unto hell their creation<br />
Until the footfalls cessation<br />
When the mind numbing silence is replaced by the eerie jingle of keys<br />
And a lock/'/s tumbler clicks the final countdown answering final pleas<br />
Setting a resolution date<br />
One day early yet one day too late<br />
<br />
IV<br />
The evening that the resolution came<br />
It vanished that evening just the same<br />
An escape that vaguely did just seem<br />
To fade away like a childhood dream<br />
With tongue now numbed<br />
Light-headed; mind has succumbed<br />
Staring blankly under heavy sedation<br />
Motionless in desolate isolation<br />
Memories flicker as if a fragile flame<br />
Once again just a number without a name<br />
Sitting upon the floor of a room often forgotten<br />
A prodigal son once; now no longer begotten<br />
Eyes dance behind lids/'/ reluctant closure<br />
As medications/'/ grasp weakens; relinquishing hold of its stolen treasure<br />
<br />
V<br />
Thoughts like wildfire have began to run<br />
A birth of a new dawn yet remaining under the glare of a fluorescent sun<br />
Rubbing temples gently caress<br />
Through their lies inner demons do confess<br />
Returning consciousness forcibly willed<br />
Perception of time no longer distilled<br />
Tiny marks have kept time covering the walls and door<br />
With pieces of plaster big and small now lining the checkered floor<br />
The lights flicker, a shadow stirs, welcome home old friend<br />
As black and white merge, there is no gray, this tunnel has no end<br />
In the midst of sound/'/s last breath<br />
Tumblers once again rise and fall with a whisper/'/s death<br />
Silence has a new chapter to the story wrought<br />
An exit/'/s gift a soul has bought<br />
<br />
VI<br />
By rite of passage through deafness, awareness is reawakened<br />
Sanity now tangible flexes and does bend<br />
Down an endless passageway countless footsteps are taken<br />
Though memories and thoughts constantly battle yet both have been forsaken<br />
Motion constant yet standing still<br />
No clocks in sight with time to kill<br />
As an indentured spirit unexpectedly found<br />
A timid mind to a fevered heart is bound<br />
Casting aside the corpse of an existence no longer needed<br />
Homage paid to a master whose words are perpetually heeded<br />
Imagination is the result of reality/'/s abjection<br />
Poised before a mirrored glass the image beheld is not a reflection<br />
To and fro gazing upon the ultimate corporeal question<br />
To have a life living in Hell or grasping death within Heaven<br />
??<br />                                                        <br>
                                                        <br>This poem is Copyright © farscape_prophet<br><br>
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                            AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission.<br>If you Email Mick for permission on
                            any poem that is not his personal works,<br>he will endeavor to contact the author on your
                            behalf.<br><br>
                            This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com<br>
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