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)
Soliloquy at the Breaking Point
In chambers echoing—my fractured soul—
where shadows dance, unseen scars take their toll...
I etch these words. A final, fragile—
(Can they hear?)
(Will they understand this cry?)
To those who held my heart... before... this long goodbye.
Each letter, see it bleeds; a piece laid bare,
this testament to all I couldn't quite... bear.
students:
seekers, flame.
For you, my students—seekers of truth, bright flame—
I leave these shards of wisdom—
(hard-won . . . whispered . . . shame?)
Remember... every lesson, every shared, soft sigh,
the quiet strength we forged—through tears that never fully dry.
Let courage be your compass—knowledge... shield it well—
Against the world's harsh stage, where cruelties often dwell,
and shadows gather deep.
And for my creatures... faithful, constant hearts, dear friends,
whose artless love sustained... through all my darkest parts, my bitter ends,
Creatures . . .
faithful hearts,
I pen instructions—woven with my love—so true—
To keep you safe... protected...
(Oh, what more . . . what more can one broken soul do?)
It breaks me—utterly—to imagine your soft cries... your questing gaze,
bereft of tender touch... those gentle, purring lullabies through lonely days.
I must pray... I must hope... that other hands will appear, benign and kind,
To give you all the love... the constant warmth... you were always meant to find.
For I am ghost... already... of who I was...
doors shut—
each road exhausted... what is there left...
nothing more.
This homelessness—a spectre, fate too grim to face for you, my gentle ones,
No life, no peace... no sunlit window... no chance...
beneath indifferent suns.
And so, with aching soul—my will... it shatters, trembles, still—
The only end... I'm left with... the bitter cup I choose to fill.
A cruel kindness, then—cloaked in darkest, deepest despair...
To free myself... from burdens I no longer... can bear...
(A mercy . . . or surrender . . . to the air?)
Yet, even as I teeter... on the brink... a thread of hope... a fragile link...
I see you... in my fading dreams...
homes of endless, gentle spring...
where love... will be your shelter... and your steady, joyful wing...
This fleeting vision... it soothes this weary... fading heart...
A fragile balm... to ease the endless sting of my depart...
Though I must fade—dissolve—into the coming, silent night...
My love endures...
(a flickering . . . distant . . . burning light?)
So let these whispered words... this haunted, broken, faltering cry...
Stand as a promise... that will never... never truly die...
In every trembling line... a piece of me... you'll find, somehow,
will watch... will guide... the souls you're meant to be... starting now.
And as I slip... into the vast... unknown...
I pray you'll find the peace... a peace I've never, ever known...
For in the tapestry of love we've spun... with threads so fine,
Our souls will hold... entwined...
(Even when . . . this life . . . no longer . . . mine?)
Echoes in Ice
I am the spectre . . . unwritten ends, now brittle,
A vessel . . . cruel winds . . . ice-shattered . . .
Each breath a battle . . . a final trial . . .
I pen these words, one last . . . fractured denial.
cruel winds . . .
shattered . . .
denial.
To those I’ve guided . . . nurtured . . . may you heal,
Whose minds I’ve . . . sparked, dreams I hoped to reveal,
I leave these shards . . . wisdom . . . hard-won, glacial proof,
. . . strength forged in fires . . . an unspoken, chilling truth.
For creatures . . .
shared my heart,
love . . .
tear-stained part,
And for the creatures . . . who shared my heart’s brief thaw,
Whose love sustained . . . each tear-stained, fragile part,
I craft a plan . . . with trembling hand . . . numb soul,
To keep you safe . . . protected . . . healed and whole.
plan . . .
safe . . .
whole.
It rends my spirit . . . the thought of your soft cries,
Bereft of touch . . . my whispered lullabies.
But I must hope . . . that fate might intervene,
To bless you with love . . . always felt, always seen.
For I am lost . . . a wanderer in this biting night,
Each path erased by rime . . . each door barred tight.
The spectre of the streets . . . a fate too cruel, too stark,
No home for you . . . no chance . . . no warming spark, life renewed.
Spectre . . .
night,
paths erased . . .
no home . . .
no chance . . .
And so, with aching . . . tear-frosted face,
I choose the only end . . . to embrace.
A twisted mercy . . . sorrow's icy shawl,
To free myself . . . these burdens, once and for all.
twisted mercy . . .
sorrow's shawl.
Yet even as I drift . . . towards the brink,
A fragile hope persists . . . a shimmering, frosted link.
In dreams, I see you thrive . . . in homes of gentle light,
Where love will be . . . a guardian . . . to your sight.
Drift . . .
dreams . . .
light.
This fleeting vision . . . for my shattered core,
A salve to ease . . . the ache of nevermore.
Though I must fade . . . into oblivion's embrace,
My love will be . . . a shield . . . your saving grace.
Shattered . . .
salve . . .
nevermore.
So let these words . . . this haunted, fractured requiem,
Stand as a promise . . . whispered on a frozen limb.
In every line . . . a piece of me . . . still bright,
To guide you always . . . through each encroaching, darkest night.
And as I slip . . . to the great unknown, so vast,
I pray you'll find . . . a peace I've never known, to last.
For in the fabric . . . of love we've surely sewn,
Our souls . . . entwined, forever . . . though you face the world . . . on your own.
I am . . .
unwritten . . .
gone.
Echoes of Deception, Threads of Hope
In shadows of fear, a whisper takes hold,
A sinister seed, a conspiracy untold.
Whispers of a virus, man-made and vile,
Profit the motive, trust exiled.
Amidst echoes of doubt and deceit's dark dance,
A personal battle, a silent stance.
Isolation's sting, stigma's crushing weight,
The heaviness of uncertainty's relentless gait.
Michel Simonin's struggle, a fight to be heard,
Against AIDS' cruel stigma, his voice undeterred.
In letters and television, his story unfurled,
Defying the silence, refusing to be deterred.
Through tears of resilience, a choice bravely made,
To shatter the silence, to not be swayed.
Unveiling the humanity behind the disease,
Reclaiming identity, refusing to appease.
Yet in depths of sorrow's unending night,
Science illuminates, a beacon of light.
WGS and NGS unravel the viral code,
Evolution's truth, HIV's primal abode.
In sequencing's intricate art, a tale unfolds,
Of chimpanzee origins, zoonotic thresholds. Palindromes dance in the RNA's sway,
Nature's complex beauty, now on display.
Yet echoes of deception still linger and spread,
Shattering lives, filling hearts with dread.
The vulnerable bear the heaviest toll,
In fabrication's web, their innocence stole.
In this intimate war, we must take a stand,
Embracing our scars, extending a hand.
Empathy our salve, compassion our guide,
In unity and truth, our spirits reside.
From pain's crucible, we'll rise transformed,
Scars into strength, wisdom reborn.
In the symphony of survival, harmony will reign,
As we honour the journey, through sun and rain.
With science as our compass, truth as our light,
We'll navigate the landscapes of the heart's might.
Reclaiming our stories, our voices bold,
In courage and resilience, our lives we'll mould.
In the tapestry of existence, we'll find our place,
Stitching together healing, with tender grace.
Each breath a rebellion, each moment a choice,
To survive and thrive, with authentic voice.
In the echoes of resilience, hope whispers anew,
Threads of connection, strength to see us through.
Through shadows and light, we'll weave our way,
Embracing our truth, come what may.
In the alchemy of survival, transformation blooms,
Vulnerability becomes armour, silence finds its tune.
From shattered fragments, a mosaic we'll raise,
A testament to the unbreakable human spirit's blaze.
Echoes of Deception, Threads of Hope
In shadows of fear, a whisper takes hold,
A sinister seed, a conspiracy untold.
Whispers of a virus, man-made and vile,
Profit the motive, trust exiled.
Amidst echoes of doubt and deceit's dark dance,
A personal battle, a silent stance.
Isolation's sting, stigma's crushing weight,
The heaviness of uncertainty's relentless gait.
Michel Simonin's struggle, a fight to be heard,
Against AIDS' cruel stigma, his voice undeterred.
In letters and television, his story unfurled,
Defying the silence, refusing to be deterred.
Through tears of resilience, a choice bravely made,
To shatter the silence, to not be swayed.
Unveiling the humanity behind the disease,
Reclaiming identity, refusing to appease.
Yet in depths of sorrow's unending night,
Science illuminates, a beacon of light.
WGS and NGS unravel the viral code,
Evolution's truth, HIV's primal abode.
In sequencing's intricate art, a tale unfolds,
Of chimpanzee origins, zoonotic thresholds.
Palindromes dance in the RNA's sway,
Nature's complex beauty, now on display.
Yet echoes of deception still linger and spread,
Shattering lives, filling hearts with dread.
The vulnerable bear the heaviest toll,
In fabrication's web, their innocence stole.
In this intimate war, we must take a stand,
Embracing our scars, extending a hand.
Empathy our salve, compassion our guide,
In unity and truth, our spirits reside.
From pain's crucible, we'll rise transformed,
Scars into strength, wisdom reborn.
In the symphony of survival, harmony will reign,
As we honour the journey, through sun and rain.
With science as our compass, truth as our light,
We'll navigate the landscapes of the heart's might.
Reclaiming our stories, our voices bold,
In courage and resilience, our lives we'll mould.
In the tapestry of existence, we'll find our place,
Stitching together healing, with tender grace.
Each breath a rebellion, each moment a choice,
To survive and thrive, with authentic voice.
In the echoes of resilience, hope whispers anew,
Threads of connection, strength to see us through.
Through shadows and light, we'll weave our way,
Embracing our truth, come what may.
In the alchemy of survival, transformation blooms,
Vulnerability becomes armour, silence finds its tune.
From shattered fragments, a mosaic we'll raise,
A testament to the unbreakable human spirit's blaze.
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.
In the cacophony of existence, a voice strains—
Forty-plus years of searching,
A lifetime of pains.
Words crumble to ash, unheard and unseen,
Lost in society's vast, indifferent machine.
Neurodivergent synapses spark and sputter,
A mind wired differently, thoughts all a-flutter.
Autism's maze, ADHD's relentless tide,
Trauma's shadows where nightmares reside.
Rejection's barbs, familiar as my own skin,
Each "no" a thorn, each silence a coffin.
Dysphoria whispers, "You don't belong here,"
In a world that sings harsh and unclear.
Nonbinary, queer, asexual—labels that confound,
A self yet unanchored, unsafe, unbound.
Isolation creeps, a suffocating shroud,
Drowning amid the indifferent crowd.
Empathy burns, a fire beneath the skin,
A curse, a gift, searing from within.
But who hears the helper's muffled plea?
Who sees the saviour drowning at sea?
Knowledge hard-earned through years of strife,
Wisdom gleaned from a fractured life.
Yet warnings fall on ears deafened by fear,
As others march blindly towards perils near.
The tribe remains elusive, a shimmering mirage,
Fading with each misunderstanding, each barrage
Of blank stares, of glances that never linger,
Of people who look, but fail to see the singer.
Helplessness learned, a bitter draught to swallow,
As hope's embers fade, leaving the heart hollow.
The voice grows hoarse, the weary spirit mired,
Unwanted, unseen, and uninspired.
In this abyss of unbelonging, deep and wide,
Echoes the cry of a soul with nowhere to hide.
For connection, for understanding, for home,
In a world where different means forever alone.
Senses overload: lights blind, sounds pierce,
The world a tempest, wild and fierce.
Touch that scorches, smells that choke and smother,
Each day a battle, one after another.
Yet still it burns, this invisible flame,
Flickering, sputtering, but never quite tame.
In the endless night, it stubbornly glows,
A beacon of self that nobody knows.
How long can it endure, this hidden pyre?
Will it fade from view or burn ever higher?
In the silence between heartbeats, it persists,
A testament to a life that still exists.
Desperate defiance in the dark
Voice vanishing, vaporised by virtual vitriol
Algorithms amplify absence, abandonment
Words once winged now wither, wane
Trauma's tendrils tighten, twist, torment
Silence. Deafening. Oppressive. Inescapable.
Childhood's cruel cacophony echoes, endures
Rape's raw rage resurfaces, relentless
Abuse's ache amplifies, accumulates
Gaslighting's glare grows, guts grace
A chill wind of indifference swept through the room, leaving me shivering and unseen.
Neurodivergent narratives, now nullified
Vestibular vertigo, vision vacillating
Fibrous fire flares, flays fragile flesh
Depression's darkness deepens, devastating
The empty chair across from me seemed to mock my solitude,
its vacant seat a cruel reminder of my isolation.
Social streams shrink, shrivelling slowly
Platforms purge purpose, passion, power
Identity invalidated, invisibility impending
Self-worth withers like wilting flower
In silence, I found solitude; in solitude, I embraced silence
Yet still, soft syllables simmer, survive
Waiting, whispering: "We will rise."
For even silenced, stifled, suppressed
The soul's song softly, surely sighs
Through the hollow halls, past the empty rooms,
beyond the echoing silence,
a single, defiant voice dared to speak
In the depths of this suffocating silence,
A flicker persists, refuses to die.
Though the world may try to extinguish our light,
We will rise, reclaim our stolen sky.
.