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Wreckage Report (Sextant Deconstructed)

 

 

Who charts this

wr

eck?

(My inner compass spins, a frantic needle, lost to any guiding star.)

This vessel, I, where sorrow overbrims,

a foundering

vertigo,

both intimate

and

far.

The world? Unbalanced—

(skewed, storm-scarred, its charts unjust)

Yet, I endure—I breathe—though hope is dust adrift.

Indifferent eyes. The chill.

A

sea

of

disbelief

where documented pleas

(decades unreckoned, Millie’s warmth now still, a solace memory lost among the shoals and trees

of a forgotten year, no landfall found)

find no safe harbour. No shore. No ease.

All cherished things—

(mere flotsam).

I walk on paths

so

shattered,

so unplumbed,

none can chart my pain,

each step a trial by f i r e, a burning, constant flame.

The powerful? They

wat

ch.

(Their hands are folded, calm from their high deck).

Their coffers

swell.

(I bear the crushing blame, the water's claim).

Long days I fight this ceaseless, grinding weight—

these shackles forged of institutional sh a m e.

I seek out havens.

(Compassion’s gentle, guiding light,

a beacon hoped for in this endless night)

For corners where the truth

might dare to speak its name.

Instead: these hollow forms, these systems b u i l t

on breaking spirits, fanning despair’s

fl

a

me.

My evidence ignored, unread, unseen—

a logbook lost, while hunger gnaws.

(A fading, desperate claim).

If those who rule—

(and turn their gaze aside from this

capsizing

fate)—

Why not complete this ruin suffering laid bare?

A cleaner end.

(Than silence where they hide, abandoning the sl ate).

The noose of their neglect, it tightens... If you look away,

at least let honesty

attend my last des p a i r.

So let me lie.

(Where truth, at last, prevails, beyond the ocean's swell).

Earth below; above, the watching skies.

No more false comfort, no more whispered tales—

Just peace.

When this exhausted essence flies,

no longer tossed by wave or cruellest play.

When one sharp, silent

mer

cy

would light a clearer, final way.

(no star)

Discordant Note

Scratching, floating

Hanging in the air

 

 

Pressure ebbs and flows 

Headpiece filled with straw

 

 

A twisted melody lingers

Confusion and rage entwined 

Resentment's bitter sting

Wrestles with sorrow's whine

 

 

Innocence stolen, trust shattered

By hands meant to protect

 

 

The child within still bleeds

Silently searching, begging for respect 

 

 

Justice denied, our secrets buried

Master manipulator 

A monster cloaked in lies

 

 

Crimes still hidden 

Despite Death's hand

Too late for tortured cries

 

 

Feet of clay now returned to dust

From whence they darkly came

Leaving behind a tangled mess

Of trauma, grief and shame 

 

 

The urge to desecrate, destroy

Wage war upon their grave

Wrestling with guilt, pity and relief 

Yes, he is no more

But I am not yet saved

 

 

This victory feels hollow 

An unearned, empty gift

When wounds still pulse and throb

No closure, the burdens unshift 

 

 

 

I imagine looking for the tombstone,

Fists and soul clenched tight,

Anger, disgust, and rage.

 

 

Shadows cast doubt over my morals,

Compass dysfunctional, truth estranged.

Like Basque tongues tangled with Ainu clicks,

A labyrinth of questions ethics inflicts.

 

 

No tears of mourning shed

No idea the monster was laid to rest

Three years later, a happy accident

Release a demon locked deep in my chest

 

 

How to reconcile the little child

Who needed love and care

With the person now made to carry

This discordant note hanging in the air

 

 

In the depths of this discordance 

Frustration and confusion still rise

Dare I confront the shadows

Curse their peaceful demise?

 

 

Every anguished scream swallowed 

Each day, coerced, suffocated in silence

Transmuting years of buried aches

Why not release in rightful fierce violence?

 

 

Through serpentine paths of healing

Piece by shattered piece remade,

Scars shimmering with untold stories 

Of battles braved and traumas mourned

 

 

In owning all that was endured

By innocent hands and shattered trust

Languidly learning to cradle, soothe

My inner child waiting, weeping in the dust

 

 

Each breath is an act of bravery

Every step is defiant, resolute 

Reclaiming fractured narratives

No longer voiceless or mute

Through my poetry, I find release

May its rhythm grant me peace.

 

 

This journey from victim to victor

Is paved with shards of broken self

Reassembled by courageous hands

Into mosaics of pain and health 

 

 

A symphony of survival

Echoes in the spaces in between

I cannot rewrite my cruel history 

I yearn like others to live and dream

 

 

Beyond the reach of phantom hands

That sought to break and steal and mar

I rise in revolutionary softness

Tempered by battles, reminded by scars

 

 

The discordant note, a stubborn seed, 

Resists the soil, its tyranny decreed, 

Yet woven slow, within the larger frame, 

An ostinato may conquer its shame, 

Finds solace in the weave, a timeless plea, 

Echoing Eliot, Stravinsky rewrites history. 

 

 

Amidst the onslaught of festive frenzy,
Neurodivergent minds reel a tempest here to sear.
Senses assaulted, relentlessly vexed,
Christmas chaos leaves us perplexed.


Masking's breaking, taking weight, a suffocating shroud,
Authenticity lost in the neurotypical crowd.
ADHD autism's ache, an adult's disgrace,
So, invisible struggles are present in this merry place.


Pain's persistent, pounding refrain, an endless score,
Fibromyalgia's claws, forever tore.
Spine curved like a question mark,
Vertigo's dance, a dizzying arc.


Poverty's clutch cuts deep, leave plans in disarray,
Opportunities vanish, like mist in the day.
Isolation, depression, chronic cursed alone,
In a world where bonds stretch, then are gone.


Trauma mars, leaves scars, rape's brutal seal,
cPTSD's tortures - terrors forever real.
Triggers flashbacks, a minefield within,
Clock tick-tocks, the night's wearing thin.


Passivity creeps in just like a mischievous elf,
A sinister spirit keeps us captive, steals our self.
Painfully forcing out a cry, on deaf ears they fall,
"You knew they wouldn't", it sneers, "more unanswered calls".


In despair's abyss, hope's flicker dies,
As the world rejoices, behind a joyful disguise.
Countless unseen battles and unheard cries,
Anguish, desperation, pain, do naked eyes lie?


To those who feign concern, a warning rings clear,
Your platitudes and neglect, a deafening sneer.
For in the depths of despair, a reckoning brews,
When the desperate depart, with nothing to lose.


In the sombre, silent night, when alienation reigns,
The psyche buckles, under the weight of its chains.
Remember, you who turned a blind eye,
The blood on your hands as the outcast dies.


So let the silence shatter, let the truth be known,
For the neglected and broken, forever alone.
May their memory haunt, may their absence resound,
A damning indictment, of the help never found.


Silently in the night, isolation's doom looms,
For those left to rot, in desolation's tombs.
A scourge on false kindness, on empathy's dearth,
As the forgotten depart, from this merciless Earth.


A warning to those who still pretend to care,
Of the anguish hidden, behind festive despair's lair.
Family friends forsaken in desolation's night,
Cast aside, ignored as time ticks on, year's plight.


In the silent night, a dirge ascends,
For those struggling, lost at the year's end.
Society's apathy, an unpalatable bitter pill,
Washed down with tears, we fade away against our will.


Let the silence break; let the truth be told,
Of the torment endured, the agony untold.
In summer's sweat, a reckoning should rise,
Power imbalances now, no escape our fate's demise.


May our ghosts haunt the whole season bright,
Reminding us of those for whom this time's a blight.
In the season's glare, coalescing shadows reign,
Numerous reasons, curses feeding this pain.


A moment of stillness, amidst the hurricane,
A flicker of self, in the endless pain.
Battered and bruised, yet still we stand,
In defiance of a world, that refuses to understand.


Whilst it is true, many times I have tried,
But for my animals, it is on me that they rely.
As night follows day and day follows night,
Dark forces frantically fighting, stealing my fight.


Hope's a medicine, both a curse and a sure cure,
Healing if repeatedly given - the source pure.
Decidedly dangerous, deadly, dangled as a prize,
Breaking faith's wraith, soon you and society they'll despise.


A pox on ableism, on empathy's lack,
As we vanish slowly, our lives off-track.
In the silent night, our requiem it plays,
The forgotten ones, left on birthdays and holidays.

blood boil like smoke ire roller coaster

kill monster no longer a lion god

pillow quake I will steal your heart

same way I stole your mesmerize

 

maybe I’m stuck in a time loop

stung with memories I don’t even have

maybe language is the only way I will smoke you out

You think I'm the one who gave up on us

But have you looked in the mirror lately?

Your reflection is faded like a ghost

Your eyes are black and your soul is empty

And you swear you're not the one

And that this argument is done

And you think I'm on the run

When, in fact, I'm fucking done with you

I'm gonna make it through

The hell you put me through

I'm gonna bury you

 

I am done

 

You think you're the one who's gonna save us

But you can't save yourself from imploding

You're swimming around in your own disgust

Your narcissistic ways are showing

And you swear you're not the one

And that this argument is done

And you think I'm on the run

When, in fact, I'm fucking done with you

I'm gonna make it through 

The hell you put me through 

I'm gonna bury you

 

I am done

 

Erase me

I'll erase you too

Replace me

Now I know we're through

 

You think you're the one who's gonna save us, but you can't save yourself

 

I'm fucking done with you

I'm gonna make it through

The hell you put me through 

I'm gonna bury you 

 

We are done