Should I give them up
my pockmarked truths?
(Each scar-shamed one.)
Are they deemed
too blunt and ugly, now?
(Although hard-won.)
As if unearthed
dirt-bound
like postholes under
abandoned ancient sites
which only speak
to us
in ash.
In charcoal’s black.
From lives undone.
By sufferings
that came on fast.
Remorselessly
unjust.
And where
(however much
its victims strove
at staying strong)
Fate’s sharpened heel
then ground things down.
Unto this
trace.
Unnamed.
Unhallowed.
Charred
across deep soil.
So to ask
(today)
Do I tell them still:
these damnably
unwelcome truths?
Or let what I know
be taken
cancelled
snatched
by
(that thieving death’s-hand)
time?
Or silenced
via law
and dogmas?
Either way
(it feels)
I shall
finish
lost.
Burning
in censored
exile.
Or
forgot.
(Post-poem musing)
Defeat code
Lies may be popular
yet still pollute the soul.
I’ve seen them spread.
Of course, I speak as mere outsider.
Reject.
Society had no place for me.
Love proved unobtainable.
Friendship unavailable.
Beauty unattainable.
Recognition unachievable.
Conformity unendurable.
But in this desert I sought Truth.
Among a myriad books.
Thinking til my brain hurt.
Bearing painful disillusion.
Served Truth as a mistress.
(Though she was cruel.)
Now I fear loss of legacy.
Taking secrets to the grave.
Dread a smothering control-grid
where free thought may barely breathe.
And dissent can get deleted
before even being read.
Anxious tyranny goes masked
conceals its mean grimace.
Behind sugar coated rhetoric
of “safety”, “care”, “community”.
Whose guidelines filter
disliked views.
And keep things hid
not argued with.
So perhaps my words
will all be wasted?
And hence bullies win again.
(I found they often did.)
Feeling need to speak in code
already signals one’s defeat.
What remains is fretting.
Muted impotence.
Watching
washed-up
on the sidelines
While a smug parade
struts by.
To hear its well-lit
noisy victory
sound
that triumph
of
the lie.
Belated Birthday Piece
The photo below is as close as I ever got to a wedding…
(That’s me, with the top hat.
And a girl even held my hand!
I always loved women’s company.
Hoped one might marry me.
But fate had other plans.)
I intended a post marking my 30th consecutive birthday isolated and ill.
(After living alone from 1991.)
Although too unwell for publishing this on time, I am pushing back against oblivion:
by including it, now.
(Please forgive the lateness.)
Nothingness
In a futile imitation of self-love
I’d vowed:
To mark each birthday
by a piece.
Though the date meant less
it still held worth for me.
Yet I sank too low
this year.
Hence failed (alas).
At feigning some significance.
Depression crushed my spirit
like a bug.
I lost a fight
which lostness won.
Then sensed a darkening destiny
a long-imagined fear.
Of joining those forgotten ones.
Who die unseen.
Who lie alone in quiet homes.
Unmissed for months.
As all around go rushing on
compulsive in their busyness.
And while I watch
such fate approach
to change is growing harder
since
it does not just depend on me
but strangers.
As old age reveals
diminished status
shrink toward a nullity
beyond humane regard.
Where no other life
encountered
makes spare any space
for mine.
Thus I sit, again
with silence.
Only mapping out
these margins
In my
nothingness.
Wait ages for a poem, then three come along at once! 😀
(I wonder which one works best?
Did any lines stand out for you?)
Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it? 🌛
Comments are always VERY welcome! 🙏
I apologise for blogging infrequently in 2021.
Was going to write about the reasons.
Yet this post seems rather long, already.
(Worry you may get too bored.)
Therefore I’ll leave that topic for another time.
I want to finish by expressing my gratitude.
To readers and followers.
As a person absent from other platforms or social media
it has been a moving experience:
exposing my work online, for the first time, here.
Finding people so supportive and kind.
Your likes, follows, and comments, help keep me going.
Maintaining morale during chronic illness.
Countering those temptations to give up.
Would really love to thank you all in person. 🤗
But must make do with sending
Best Wishes!
And
Thanks
for reading!
( art / blog / blogging / depression / drawing / life / mental health / photography /poem / poetry / thoughts / truth / writing)
Ken Hallett Blog 