I’m the central knot
I can’t unravel.
Only tighten
as I feel the pull.
Set aside myself,
I can’t be me.
I lost the fight
to ADHD.
I’ve been the quarry,
They now ignore me.
The pen calls
As synchronicity
and worry
Grounded as a bat de-winged.
Made redundant, fired, let go,
A new rung reached
Slippery, and unavoidable.
As my time
becomes exploitable.
Feathered flight and slithering crawl.
It’s no wonder, at all,
that a bird preceded the Fall.
We slither as beasts
across the leaves.
As muscled gods heave.
I’m sorry about the difficulties you face but you have been inspired to write some great lines. I think the juxtaposition between some of the classical and philosophical imagery and just the brutal reality work well and reflect’s the central tension/opposition you’re talking about right at the start in your own self and between yourself and the world.
Thank you for sharing.
Your work is, to me, within the genre of horror, but in a more specific sense, realistic horror. As I pursued the truths as diligently as my mind allowed, you gave me the agency to decide the horrors I wanted. I was literally able to ‘pick my poison.’ this is Blakean in its syntax (if I know anything about grammar), Inceptionism in its motion, and so truth-oriented that I was, and still am, consistently believing that the climax of the work will be the death of me. I have it in my mind that it will be a heart attack or a heart failure, but I’m sure in some way that it is through the power of literary belief. I hope it is, because I do enjoy my life on this planet, at least for now.
This poem is tense as war -
I would like to start a correspondence with you. Talk about our writing and other things regarding art in general. Subscribe, for I have done the same; I want to be held accountable this will motivate and will guide me to your work in the future.. I imagine our bonded will power with these exercises will bear much fruit. I'll be in touch.
Looking forward, Chris!