Pain

From drunken ashes….

From drunken ashes….

By jfarrell

 

You’ve seen the harry potter scene…

The phoenix burns to ashes…

Then reappears two minutes later…

Egg, to little bird thing, to renewed phoenix

 

I was a drunk…. august, this year, I was still a drunk…

I AM a drunk… and proud of it….

My dad drunk and beat up his family…

I drank, went to sleep, wake up, drink…

 

Rinse and repeat…

 

Today…

3 women kissed me on both cheeks….

Everyone I work with patting me on the back,

Shaking my hand….

 

“Thanks, Jim”

 

Most I felt valued, alive,

…... like, ever…

And I haven’t got a scooby doo why.

….. not that it isn’t all nice…

 

Since I returned to work,

I faced a lot of my worst fears….

Heights - serving champange 25th floor of building…

London at night, all lights, forever…

 

Never seen London look so beautiful…

 

Crowds - being stuck on Olympic Way….

From station to work takes 5 minutes…

After work….

Hugging the wall, and kissing, very lovingly, every lampost….

 

THERE’S NO WAY OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

After work….

50, 000 people and a little extra…

All headed for the same station….

…. trust me, I really love those lamposts….

 

An anchor…

In this OCEAN of people….

Anchor…

What word could be more appropriate?

 

SPACE….

To roll a smoke, to dance a jig….

To plug in my headphones and LEAVE EARTH>>>>>

A space, chance, to breathe

 

And…

So many beautiful women, everywhere…

20 years, locked in my flat, alone, celibate….

There IS a very good reason I chose that.

 

I’m too scared to be a phoenix.

I’ve seen my future,

Alone,

Forever and ever.

 

Please don’t drag me from my ashes;

Let me smoulder…. burn…

“a taste of honey is worse than none at all” - great song…

I don’t want no part.

 

Fears - LOVE - vulnerable, pain, hurt, heartbreak….

I don’t want no part, too scared to…

Let me lie in my ashes

And never rises again

 

please

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

someone once asked me.... you're like a kid in a sweetshop, around women.....

not quite, i replied.... yes, kid in a sweet shop.... but aall the mars bars are empty wrrappers.....

my therapist didn't understand,

 

i just never want to have that conversation again

 

 

Last chat with mum; aged 24 (me, aged 24)

Last chat with mum; aged 24 (me, aged 24)

By jfarrell

 

“now he’s dead, I gotta ask….

“was he my dad? Truly???”

…. “yes”

 

This is my mum responding….

Her and the ‘truth’….

If she told me water’s wet and leafs are green…

I’d have to check….

….my mum truly believed her lies…

Really…

 

She didn’t get kicked out of the milkman’s house…

1 am in the morning

And walked home naked with her 7 year old daughter screaming at her

What a w……. she was…

No….

My ‘dad’ was flirting with the barmaid again…

….

I was there; I know what happened…

 

But,

She really, truly believes her lies.

 

“was he my dad?”

“yes”

….

 

Deep breath…

Disappointment, anger, relief?

Who knows?

But….

What I asked next was really, REALLY stupid!

A very bad idea…

But

How could I know?

 

“Ok… ish… he’s my dad…”

 

Long silence, couple of minutes?… less?… more?…

 

“what happened back ‘then’? when I was 5? 6?

When uncle brian raped me?

….….

….. we haven’t spoken in nearly 10 years… what you all did hurt….

What happened?”

 

“your dad told me you’d raped your cousin”

…...

“i was 5…?… 6…?….

…. I wasn’t even physically capable…. 5…6…”

 

 

“that’s what your dad told me.”

 

A couple of deep breaths, from me…

Several seconds…. a minute or two…

Felt like f…. centuries….

 

….”and I believed him.”

 

NOT an added aside, an intentional thrust with a stiletto…

Not an attempt to move in for the kill…

On an already injured, badly bleeding target…

No….

She was just being honest.

 

….OK…

 

“nan, uncle peter…. di…..”

“well of course I told them about it!”

…..

At least I had the sense to shut up then and not ask if that’s..

What she told her friends…

 

…..

 

Haven’t seen or spoken or had anything to do with my ‘mum’

Since that day…

Over 25 years ago…

I will be 50 in a couple of weeks…

My anger, bitterness, hurt….

…..that little mother to son chat….

Is killing me

Poisoning me, like a virus …..

That hate, anger….

Wanting to hurt back…

 

….

Maybe my mum had mental health problems….

I don’t know….

But..

To so totally, absolutely believe… agree…

At 5… 6… years old…

“your son raped his cousin”….

 

I don’t totally believe that’s the WHOLE truth…

I will happily call my scumbag ‘dad’ a lot of names…

But.. ‘Liar’ isn’t one that would be honest….

….

 

…”and I believed him.”….

 

I don’t know….

Have spent all my pointless life trying to imagine….

WHAT I DID….

That was so bad…

That…

At the age of 5 or 6….

… my mum hated me SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much,

“and I believed him.”

 

 

Maybe she’s right ;-)

After all,

Who knows a man better than his mother?

 

I wish I could forgive and forget…

I wish I could be a son….

I wish I had a mother….

…..

And,

I so wish I wasn’t me…

But…

These are the hands we are dealt.

 

Sadly….

 

I fear my bitterness, anger….

Absolute f…… rage…

…after I die….

My hate will continue.

….

Other than my mum, who can rot in hell…

 

 

PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL YOU LOVELY WONDERFUL READERS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

20 years of therapy, 40+ years of pain and bitterness..

poetry is a salve, a poultice, i could never have imagined....

Loneliness

Loneliness is being in the room with your love,

And realizing that there is no love in the room.

 

Loneliness is having a nightmare in bed,

And rolling over to realize that the dream was warmer than real life.

 

When I needed you

You weren't there

When I had to trust you

You broke my trust

When I held you up

You knocked me down

When I gave you everything

You took it all away

 

Loneliness is wanting to be understood,

But realizing that no-one else

Has the time or patience to discover

Who you really are

At The End Of My Rope

Stuck in this place

Full of empty space

Where the deafening silence

Awaits a verbal embrace

 

Just one utterance of hope

To be given the strength to cope

And I will unwind the noose

From the end of my rope

 

Just one ray of light

To regain my sight

To be able to be set free

 From all of the anger and fright

 

Unable to bear

This mask of shame I now wear

To keep living this lie

That anyone will even care

 

But now it’s too late

My feet now fully off the crate

And my body is now free

 

From my minds loathing and self hate

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Tell Me a Story

Tell me a story

I've never heard before

Of faraway lands

And long-distant shores

Of knights and their honor

Of sweet maidens fair

Exercise your eloquence

To transport me there

 

Tell me a story

Of love won and lost

Of heroes unwavering

No matter the cost

Sing me a lullaby

Of joy and regret

And maybe, just maybe

I'll learn to forget

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Seirenes

Folder: 
Tales and Fables
They say that love is an action
Not a feeling
Then why did I feel that way
Like spiraling down Charybdis 
To the sound of your siren song
 
Your haunting melody embraced my mind
Teasing me, clutching my heart
Until I could do no more than listen
The pain in your voice evident
The struggle against your very nature
 
How I wish that I could have saved you
That I had borne you far away
But you knew my thoughts
You sensed my intentions
And saved me instead 
From the surf of your tsunami
 
So now I sit alone on the sand
And perhaps my greatest torture 
Is standing on the shore of your pain 
And crying out to the oceans that separate us 
To receive nothing but silence in return.

Love Never Goes Away

I think about you every day,

these memories never seem

to go away,

 

I know its you who I love the most,

 

I'm going to have to live with these

feelings for the rest of my life

 

Always worrying about what happened

to you; if I caused you to suffer.

 

Wondering if you ever think about me in

the way I think about you

 

I hope you live a good life,

I wish I could tell you that I love you

but I'll never get to see you again anyways

 

I wrote this poem, only for you and no one else,

because your the only one that I love deep down

 

I've had dreams about you that we meet again,

when I see people that look like you, I immediately think of you,

it causes me much pain.

 

These feelings are never going away,

always in my heart will you remain

 

Life is not fair

and often denies you what you want most

 

You are always reminded of your failures

you can never escape your past

 

Love will imprison you for life,

but I would not have it any other way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The one who I really love. My true love. I don't usually write often about this subject, because I keep it deep within. Its hard to talk about.

 

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"Only You Know Why"

 

 

The shot repeating, enters me again,
But I travel through time,
If only when, I have my eyes closed,
From the prison inside my mind,
 
The hands of time, now completely still,
My sins wrapped in the cog spring,
Crimson dots, still smeared by the window,
Won't let me forget about things,
 
                                             
 Only you, know what hate is made of,
 Only I know that you lied,
 Now while I'm at the bottom,
 Is where I will leave you,
 And only you know why,..continue to deny,
 
They don't come around, here as often,
Now that the air has a tang,
A movie reel showing, exactly how I stopped him,
Wasn't I someone that day?
 
Memories now opaque and faded,
Will you remember me when I'm gone?
A constant search, for an endless place,
Where I just finally might belong, 
 
                                         
 Only you, know what hate is made of,
  Only I know that you lied,
  Now while I'm at the bottom,
  Is where I will leave you,
  And only you know why, a lesson turned to       lies....
 
 
Sunday morning, surrounds me weary, 
Yet, I will still try to hide,
A little mercy, dissolved in the bloodstream,
Regret corroding my life, could've stopped him I,
 
All these things, will not compound you,
For I've paid the tolls with shame,
My hands now grow, so tired and useless,
As they grasp the rain, just to see her once again....
 
     Only you, know what hate is made of,
     Only I know that you lied,
     Now while at the bottom, 
     Is where I will leave you,   
     And only you know why,
 
     The cause of my goodbyes,
     Setting fire to my life,
     So I'm glad you fucking died...
  

T.R.O.Y. (The Ruins Of You)

Folder: 
Confessions

I stand in the ruins of you
carrying the casket
of the memories of us
Once, 
a cradle of holy affection and love.
Here lie the shattered 8 months
of unison prayers, 
jeepney banters,
subtle, orgasmic whispers,
the euphoria of meeting your mother,
and the dreams we built 
on midnight kisses and sacred moans.

The pen you gave me
still holds
its allegiance to you
refusing to spill its ink
thriving on its own will
I grapple it by its neck
and watch it slowly faint.

Lonely hearts from the start,
we relished the thought of a lasting love.
Two candles burn
when two lovers pray.
On our very first date,
I cursed on how you made me wait.
On our very last day,
I prayed that He would make you stay.
People say first impressions last
But you had me only at second glance.

Sober fools in a clandestine night
we laughed and walked for hours and miles
You, holding my bag
Me, holding your hand.
This was before his ghost haunted you
again
alive and well.
This was before in between hours,
you’d forget my whispers
and long for his.
This was before your friend 
called me to say,
“Just let him go. Love is not supposed
to work this way.”

The dark clouds came
and never left.

I stand in the ruins of you,
claws clutching to the ground,
eyes beaten and tired,
feet still shackled 
with the ropes you gave me last June
and every inch of them is an untold story
and each story is a blow to my head.
Love is but a slowly unfolding agony.
Knot
after
knot,
I untangle these shackles I tied myself to.
Knot
after
knot,
I begin to remember 
the life I built around you and me,
the dreamy kisses,
the day I met your friends and family,
the night I got so drunk
you had to forget our fight
to come and get me,
the night you got so drunk
you had to forget our fight
to say you still love me.
But the high wasn’t worth the agony
of knowing that at my lowest point,
confined in a hospital,
covered with punctures,
you successfully abandoned me;
of carrying a bleeding heart every day
and hoping it won't leak;
of feeling the sands of time slip
away from your grasp,
along with all your hope and chance;
of finally choosing to live through hell
hoping that your lover would remember
the warmth of an earthly heaven
you built for yourselves and once lived in.
of knowing that the memory of us
would later turn to dust
and I am to collect them
with bare hands.
Knot
after
knot,
The walls of this temple begin to shatter
I am no longer your prisoner.
I stand in the ruins of you,
claws clutching
on crumpled bed sheets,
rubbles of your promises,
residues of your gifts,
pictures torn to pieces, 
my handwritten notes
a hundred poems, 
a thousand letters
and the ashes of our bodies.
I spread my wings 
and begin to rise
and look up for the clouds
The dark clouds that came
never left.
But I am.
•••

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about moving on.

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