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As a dabbler in creative writing, my blog is serving as a place to share my efforts and resurrect the creative flow. Thanks for your company...
And so…
Breath constrained
Brain numbed
Body wracked
Soul tormented
Nothing
No-one
Remains
And
so
I
j
u
m
p
Armed World
You threaten with a knife
So I must defend with a knife
You arm with a gun
So I must buy a gun
Your country recruits an army
So mine must conscript an army
Your government develops weapons of mass destruction
So mine acquires weapons of mass destruction
Now every country in the world
has arsenals of weapons, missiles, nuclear bombs
and all its people are armed with knives and guns
At last everyone is equally defended and can feel safe.
So I must defend with a knife
You arm with a gun
So I must buy a gun
Your country recruits an army
So mine must conscript an army
Your government develops weapons of mass destruction
So mine acquires weapons of mass destruction
Now every country in the world
has arsenals of weapons, missiles, nuclear bombs
and all its people are armed with knives and guns
At last everyone is equally defended and can feel safe.
Vacuum
Nature abhors a vacuum
draws in like a black hole
demons or angels
despair or joy
death or life.
Sleep Paralysis
Between sleep and wakefulness
the mind inhabits the twilight zone
where writhe abducting aliens, ghosts,
demons, witches, succubi, devils,
monstrous visions from nether regions of hell,
creatures crawling from the collective unconscious.
The sleeping woman is suddenly, acutely aware.
The herald attacks with a gale-force wind
grips her neck in vice-like spasms
clenches her teeth and muscles
paralyses her rigid resisting body.
Materialising on the tail of the wind
the Devil incarnate appears,
malevolent stinking presence.
Closer than a lover or thief,
he invades every fibre of her being.
Squeezing out life’s precious breath,
he envelopes and conquers all in his path.
No caricature, this raw devouring power
appeased only by the soul’s destruction.
Angels and Archangels, she appeals
monstrous visions from nether regions of hell,
creatures crawling from the collective unconscious.
The sleeping woman is suddenly, acutely aware.
The herald attacks with a gale-force wind
grips her neck in vice-like spasms
clenches her teeth and muscles
paralyses her rigid resisting body.
Materialising on the tail of the wind
the Devil incarnate appears,
malevolent stinking presence.
Closer than a lover or thief,
he invades every fibre of her being.
Squeezing out life’s precious breath,
he envelopes and conquers all in his path.
No caricature, this raw devouring power
appeased only by the soul’s destruction.
Angels and Archangels, she appeals
to all the company of heaven.
Holy saints, God of Light, Love’s own Christ!
Forgive me! Exorcise me! Protect me!
Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus…
Calm, calm, calm subdues
the brain’s over-stimulated fears.
Sleep, sleep, sleep rescues.
Slowly her unwinding body and mind unite
sinking into deep forgetfulness.
Holy saints, God of Light, Love’s own Christ!
Forgive me! Exorcise me! Protect me!
Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus…
Calm, calm, calm subdues
the brain’s over-stimulated fears.
Sleep, sleep, sleep rescues.
Slowly her unwinding body and mind unite
sinking into deep forgetfulness.
This was based on my experiences of sleep paralysis and an article on the subject:
Childhood memory
Forgotten by them as they row, I hide.
Hands block my ears, stars spin before my eyes.
Solid anchor ripped from its safe mooring,
the family vessel is tossed on rough seas.
My mother’s hands circle my father’s throat,
her fists flail against his defensive arms,
her tongue lashes his vulnerable places -
his failure to fulfil expectations.
A rampaging bull, his daemon let loose,
he wordlessly directs his rage against
his nurtured vegetables in our garden,
blindly yanking them all out by their roots.
I nestle into my mother’s body.
Roles reversed, six years old, I comfort her.
Gripping me in a suffocating hold,
she is deaf to my pleas to carry on.
Now follows a silent, tense atmosphere,
lasting for uneasy day upon day.
With us children their intermediaries,
they patch up the pieces just for our sakes.
