Poetry – A stroke of the head – This is a weird one I had in a dream last night. It’s disturbing! Perhaps it was the cheese?
I work up from a dream last night and this was in my head. I had to write it straight down. I was left wondering if it was an omen? I’ve had a few friends who have gone down with dementia. It’s a scary thought. All we are melts away layer by layer.
I don’t believe in omens or portents. This was probably my conscious response to the frustration of getting older. You feel your body and mind slow, robbed of energy. The words that once shot into your mind now languish on the periphery and have to be rounded up like stray steer.
It is like your brain is now full of tiny holes, as if acid was slowly burning it away.
Getting older is not pleasant. You just do what you have to do. The alternative is not attractive.
It was a bit too bloody morbid!
A Stroke of the head
Part of me died,
I don’t remember what.
Inside is a void
That used to hold a lot.
It left me with a fear
Of what will surely be.
There’s an acid here
That is eroding me.
It’s taking me by bits
Blotting out the where,
The jig-saw puzzle fits
Now transparent as the air.
My brain’s becoming cheese
Full of mighty holes
Through which there is a breeze
Where memory now lolls.
There’s a cold spot
In my sun
That’s no longer hot
And isn’t any fun.
I’m moved to helpless tears
And dreadful wondering when;
The unrelenting fears
That it will happen once again.
It’s the beginning of the end
The start of the decay.
Like losing a close friend –
I’m falling away.
There are holes in this rigging
That the wind blows through.
I’ll need some rejigging –
More than a patch or two.
It’s robbed me of confidence
And dumped me on the floor.
No longer rushing hence,
Not going out the door.
There’s a new void in my head
That’s made me wonder why
It’s filled me with lead.
Now all I do is sigh.
13.7.2015