A nail to the head

image

(Source online, unknown)

I now stand tall proud loser
Gracefully holding my head
Empty of any sensibility
Hence easy to bear
My heart beating passionately easily
Because of the hole in my chest
Letting out the heavy sea of blood
The heart normally has to cope with

So, after my head empties out,
What next?

I boldly display my monkey-tail
Put up as I scamper away in frightful flight
From all the stark raving difficulties
Faithfully stalking my daily life like psychopaths

Then banging my head on the floor
In manly resignation to the insanities chasing me
To end up contacting ifeelshadows.com
So the kind Doc. can help nurse my mental bruises

I throw hands up in the air waving like at a musical rave
Poetically exclaiming the hopelessness of it all
Before even my penned hands get tired and chained
For this whole homicidal act on the dignified person of poetry

And I lie on my damp bed
Stinking un-bathed soul
Drenched with rain of sorrows
So cold in this life I can’t get dry

Never mind I am shivering epileptically
And I have to cover myself
Keeping me further damp, sticky and stinky
Yet You(God) don’t stop

But in all this call me sad –a sad, sad man
Because I see even no relief or sense in suicide
I am no judge in this frame of mind
But least, I was sane enough to analyse my hopelessness

What do You want from me
Will You be happy when I let it all go
Throw out my life
And hang myself on a cross?

And the only thing holding me onto that cross
A metallic shaft through my chest
The reason for the hole in my chest
Letting out all my blood gracefully

BACKGROUND: I started out writing about the slightly melancholic moments of life, and inevitably find myself remembering that life –my thoughts, wishes, knowledge, mind-sets, pleasures, principles –could only matter so much for so long. I am not claiming to have seen all, but so far I am constantly realizing how hung up a life centred around myself, my strengths, weaknesses, failures might always be. A certain One said I should let go of all and become obsessed with Him. There I’d find full thrilling life. Luke 9:23 (Amp) “And He said to all, If any person wills to come after Me, let him deny himself [disown himself, forget, lose sight of himself and his own interests, refuse and give up himself] and take up his cross daily and follow Me [cleave steadfastly to Me, conform wholly to My example in living and, if need be, in dying also].” I know He said “disown, forget and lose sight”, but for some reason all I read is to “just go hang and forget himself on a cross!”

P.S. This is not a suicide note, and I am not thinking of committing suicide. Ever!

22 responses to “A nail to the head

  1. why you always trying to make me cry?

  2. Shards Of DuBois

    oh Doc, this bothered me too much to enjoy the poetic aspect. But I feel I must say this: you may be filthy filthy dirty on the outside, but you are sparkling clean on the inside. not to mention, Isaiah 1:18 “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow… listen my friend, and remember! Your heart is full of more than just blood, and if I ever hear you talking about ending it all again, I will fly to you and smack the snot out of you!! You are way more valuable than any crap you ever have to deal with, but to remain sane, you must let it wash off of you, like a spring rain! when and if you get down like that again, I expect an email, at the least, so I can remind you how very loved you are, and how very needed in this life YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!! you may not see if from where you are…but you are a bright shining CLEAN WHITE LIGHT!! and I mean every single word of that! and don’t you ever forget it!

  3. Doc, I can’t imagine what is in your head, and more importantly, your heart. You always seem to feel so much, and I fear that you’ve given yourself to a situation where you must by needs feel a great deal. I can only say that I am glad you have poetry (you committed no crime against it, far from) to relieve you in some small way. If I can help in any other way, let me know. Be well, Doc. And listen to our friend Shards, her sentiments are clean and true.


  4. If we be as a tree then what – through cutting, shaving, engraving, and carving shall the Great Carpenter make of you and me??? Let He who has begun this great work finish so that we may all see. Peace and blessings, my friend. = )

  5. Nice one Doc, so are you promising to crucify your ego trip and take a vacation from writing? I hope not, we need more crazy from you. Besides, Jesus won’t let you off the cross! Bleed for us, pretty please? ♥

    • Maddey, you really are not getting any saner, are you! I hope to enjoy the crucifixion everyday. And no, I am not leaving writing any time soon.
      No, I am afraid he will not see me off this cross.

      If I bleed, do you solemnly promise to enjoy the sight?

      • Yes we all bleed for our art, one form or another. Hey I knew you’re not gonna off yourself, and miss all the fun in this crazy world? Not a chance my friend, enjoy this human experiment while it lasts, no 1 lives forever, that would be the real curse, haha. Besides, we haven’t even played chess, made love, or fall off rooftops yet… have we?!

        I presume you’ve read the Russian classic: Master and Margarita?

        “Actually, I do happen to resemble a hallucination. Kindly note my silhouette in the moonlight.” The cat climbed into the shaft of moonlight and wanted to keep talking but was asked to be quiet. “Very well, I shall be silent,” he replied, “I shall be a silent hallucination.”

        “I shall sit down,’ replied the cat, sitting down, ‘but I shall enter an objection with regard to your last. My speeches in no way resemble verbal muck, as you have been pleased to put it in the presence of a lady, but rather a sequence of tightly packed syllogisms, the merit of which would be appreciated by such connoisseurs as Sextus Empiricus, Martianus Capella, and, for all I know, Aristotle himself.’

        Your king is in check,’ said Woland.

        Very well, very well,’ responded the cat, and he began studying the chessboard through his opera glasses.

        And so, donna,’ Woland addressed Margarita, ‘I present to you my retinue. This one who is playing the fool is the cat Behemoth…”
        ― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

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