Drifting

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I’m sitting here amongst the debris of another life unlived. Another collection of days never quite spent waiting for the rain to stop and to hear the far off sound of drums to call me into a day that never really comes. I am trying to haul my peat stained legs from a bog but sinking ever deeper from some kind of numbness inside then a friend comes along,telling me of the two people in my head. The speaker and the listener but I tell him quietly,shhh they are not alone.There is a small crowd in there. A small crowd all talking but making no sense,they don’t let me get a word in. I carry the weight of unspoken words heavier than any bags I take from town to town while they are in there whispering gibberish. Whispering untruths, whispering so much guilt they have their own religion, they are a cult. A cult lives in my head and they have taken all my thoughts and turned them into a chant. Ohm Ohm Ohma Ohma Ohmagod where am I now? I walk past the stagnant water along the rain shined cobbles towards the lights but don’t really know where I’m headed. I open creaking doors and enter rooms full of cinnamon scents, gold, red and green, things. Christmas is coming again and I’m so far away I can’t hear it. I think I’m still waiting for the summer.

debJ dec3 09

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Comments

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Anthony Emmerson

Thu 17th Dec 2009 01:53

Hi Deborah,

I read this earlier, but felt I needed to to think about it a little before commenting. You paint a very eloquent picture of detachment and confusion here - almost like a conversation one might have with a psychiatrist. (I don't mean that in a derogatory way either, to effectively voice this type of anaesthetised ennui without descending into overt self-indulgence takes skill.) Although it would be wrong to say that I "enjoyed" the piece, I did admire the craft and ability to convey what are essentially sad sentiments unsentimentally.

Regards,
A.E.

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sian howell

Mon 7th Dec 2009 10:42

I think a poem should make you feel...and yours always does my lovely...so whether it has a dark edge or a sunny tint is absolutely fine and yours inspires feeling in others and thats what all good poetry should do. Sian X

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Isobel

Sun 6th Dec 2009 19:27

A very sad one Debs. The fact that you are talented and capable of such great imagery is secondary to the feelings the poem evokes - being lost - beyond control - quite literally drifting through life. I think we can all feel like that at times. I would certainly steer my life differently if I was really at the helm. Just how much of our life is spent like that, I guess varies from one to another. I'm hoping that your and all of our summers come this year - cos I'm an optimist....xx

<Deleted User> (6292)

Sat 5th Dec 2009 22:12

Your poetry and words melt like butter upon warm toast
But I feel that you are in pain of sorts.
Gain strength from your writing you are truly a very talented poet.

Augusta x

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Francine

Fri 4th Dec 2009 02:45

Powerful words...
This is why you must express yourself!

'I carry the weight of unspoken words heavier than any bags I take from town to town'

Always remember that tomorrow is another day : )

<Deleted User> (7073)

Thu 3rd Dec 2009 20:07

Yes I would say this is a dark poem, too, probably because you are going through so much upheavel right now, but from purely from a written perspective, it has powerfully imagery, most of us get those nagging self doubt voices too at times. Roll on Summer ;-)
TC

Deborah Jordan

Thu 3rd Dec 2009 18:33

Steve,
hmm, i think i am perpetually in a strange place, metaphorically and physically,so that i don't think I am communicating in a 'dark' or 'spooky' way but I can see how it might be thought of in that way. I think I dip in and out of my subconscious mind so often that I am used to it but it can be dark I guess.I see my life as comprising of many small lives inside one,like a Russian doll. I am currently moving out of another place,again in both senses,and it feels as if I haven't made the best of this part of my life within a life lately for many reasons.I feel like I have been drifting and another season comes along and I'm not ready for it. There wasn't enough sunshine this year and I wasn't ready for winter.i don't know if you're missing something,i don't know how more to explain it,sorry, i didn't mean to disturb you. Deb xx

steve mellor

Thu 3rd Dec 2009 17:33

deb
I accept that I am no literary giant (or midget for that matter), but the way I read it, is that it is one of the darkest pieces of poetry I've seen.
I find it a bit too spooky. Anyway, spooky enough for me to 'comment' on.
Am I missing something?
xx Steve xx

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