A Stroke in 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 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 heavy lead.
All I do is sigh.
13.7.2015
A Stroke in the Head
I work up from a dream last night and this was in my head. I was left wondering if it was an omen?
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.
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