This captive mind

scan 9

Lostness    ( 106 )

 

 

Back at the doctor’s waiting room, again.

Below its clock’s slow tick
this captive mind starts
wandering.

 

As
an essay title
pops into my head:
“The control delusion”

(on how little power
we really have).

 

And being straightaway
distracted
by one open magazine
discussing female
tribal menstrual synchrony.

“Did their men then go off hunting?”
quips an inner comic voice.
( He undermines all tact
hence best I let the topic drop.)

Another page exclaimed:
“religious symbols banned!”

(I’d rather be prewarned
about who’d want me sent
to hell.)

 

 

Next my mental jaunt
asked
whether excess information
might cause some
feeling faintly jaded
when around the fully known?

 

Or if beliefs which shed humility
should thus appear less credible.
Though dogma seeks submission
from our soul.

(And doctrines often act ungenerous
post-victory: suppressing
even grief among
opponents overthrown.)

Perhaps a rigid faith demands
acceptance too extreme?

 

 

Then these thoughts switched onto
“Dragon slaying”
as a metaphor of
anxious fights against
the ancient “reptile” brain that
generated automatic stress…

 

 

But suddenly
she calls my name
(long past appointment time).

 

Soon I step inside
the door and
pause there

standing quite
subdued to
face

her smile’s
lit eyes:

 

a new GP
so
beautiful

I struggle with
remembering

what

it was

I came
here for.

 

 

 

( 2012 )


 

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Posturing

 

Konica128512

 

 

  Lostness    (103)

 

 

It hurt: admitting deep belief
got built upon
some shifting sands
that proved unstable.

But many things were learnt before
skilled reasoning was primed.

 

Illusions may be preferable
compared with harsher truths.

I wondered:
had kind ancestors
less chance of spreading traits
in ancient days when strangers
carried spears or axes?

 

Even now, on darkened streets
if lacking ways to guess
at inner natures
stereotypes alert survival
biased judgements happen fast.

Those who act beyond the norm
surprise more careful minds.

Hostility might swiftly flare
from standing in supposed reproach
to other’s sensed esteem.

 

 

Resentment
being simply stirred
finds politicians seeking votes
by posturing as punishers
for group morality.

Lauding money-saving cuts
they channel latent spite against
the unfit and the sick.

 

Such tactics sparking parody, I wrote:

“Behold!
A righteous call is heard to
“rise up from thy bed
and work.”
Declaring thousands newly well
in single pen-signed
miracles.

Once doubters then spoke cautiously
predicting public backlash
voices countered any qualms
upbraiding:
“Oh, you faint hearts
trust the masses side with us!
These broken ones are quietly despised.
Expect responses satisfied, at
watching shirkers stressed.”

 

So all softness became scorned
replaced by mirth
imagining
the lowly get chastised.”

 

 

Wealth had gentler treatment, though

on seeing how
our state
controls
its rich with
dangled “carrots”

 

while the poor
receive the
stick.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

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Comments are exceedingly welcome!

I have been feeling very low recently, and it’s so nice when someone breaks the silence…

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Behind the mask

 

Konica128522

 

 

           Lostness    (101)

 

 

Sexualized offers soon began to arrive
after opening an e-mail address.

Promising male enhancement
firm arousals.
Even dates with eager
women.

I claimed to be a bit disturbed
being targeted these ways…

“How come total strangers know my wishes so well?”

I complained at chess club
in mock anxiety.

Attuned to such deviant banter
guys returned only laughs
not advice.

 

My humour, also, may fall flat…

“You shouldn”t put yourself down!”  Had been a response.

“Why let others have all the fun?” I answered.

Growing up criticised from birth, I found
when later aiming barbs toward myself
internal voices slightly mollified.

 

Identifying as a loser reduced effort, generally.
Achievement tended to involve discomfort.

Shared failures
soothing wounded egos.
Seeing great success can grate
upon defects
comparisons adding irritation.

Fame attracts new tides of gossip
keenly seeking hidden flaws.

 

But then, versus appearance
run desires to strip away
our social roles
uncovering who we “really” are.

 

Though analogy would yet mislead
if beyond such roles
lay increased nullity.

Results thus
less like shedding clothes
than tearing at the skin.

 

Or perhaps I’d just
wrongly imagined
again?

 

Creating
this fear
for removing a mask

that might lift off
some part of
my face.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

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Prideful spirit

 

konica124971.jpg

 

 

Lostness   (99)

 

 

I search across the lighted page…

This portal made for mass distraction
holds me in its net.

More interesting than my time offline
here bearing social emptiness.

Languishing alone
unseen.
These many years beyond
all human care
or touch.

And being ill
enduring pain
our mind can start to thirst
for greater agency
chafing amid helplessness
under ruthless viral force.

 

Remembering
I met a few who chose
assertive faiths

which conjured up a
self-projected world
where things seemed props
around their stage
as animated nature
somehow
manifested will.

Such prideful spirit
set against soft pity
weakness, limits: could
then lead to blaming
patients for disease.

(Rationing our sympathy lets
conscience free, conveniently.
Recalling one I heard
excuse compassion’s loss
when that shrinking quality, in him,
appeared
already quite worn out
before it had been used.)

 

Just presume we did attain
a vision clear from
comforting delusion’s balm:
need this leave us much
except an uninspiring truth?

 

 

Confessing, though

(while knowing none might die
with inbox vacant)

I still aspired to closure
after realising
any life
including mine

should likely
stay
unfinished

even

as it
ends.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

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Comments are very welcome!

Have a virus which is thickening brain-fog.
Unsure if my writing works due to disorientation effects: making me slightly word-blind.

I’m finding it difficult to carry on blogging due to illness. Views are down; follows almost stagnant, sharing non-existent.
Feeling at a low ebb. Don’t know how to turn things around. Could anyone help?

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Zombie or vampire?

Konica1194

 

 

Lostness   (98)

 

 

People often resent what they’re forced to do
so why should the poor love work?

 

Some call on social transformation
yet revolutions rarely
end oppression: merely change oppressors.

Now globalists prefer consumers rootless
differences defanged
as just diverse.
Nothing prompting dying for
or fighting.
Culture in vast fashion statements
varied clothes plus wide food choice.

Once traditions have been undercut
those mourning them may get disdained.

Perhaps reports
on communism’s death
were slightly overdone
since it also served by propping up
our bloated capital?

Old antagonists continue
toxic codependency: where
thesis and antithesis promote
stasis before synthesis.

Still certain rebels find their
opposition shuns contentment.
Dissidence becomes life’s purpose
intolerant at long set ways
and furious for progress.

 

Violence forms a spectacle
while serenity does not.
Hence millions scan the broadcast news
or enjoy combat games.

 

Recently my onscreen view showed
rioters busy looting shops
they dragged away new psychic bonds
as extra TV sets.

Clutching shiny product’s flesh with
addict’s raging neediness.

(Resembling films:
when zombies rush
in mobs
like savage proles
compared to smarter vampire
aristocrats.)

 

Then noticing
alone
among the glass-strewn streets:

a single bookstore
stayed untouched

and only there
might one feel
tempted…

(wisdom’s value transcends cash)

…but

though
peace of mind
could be worth stealing

I doubt
it would
result

from
theft.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

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My views remain small and it’s always nice to hear from readers.

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(art / beauty / books / culture / drawing / lostness / love / mental health / news / poem / poetry / politics / thoughts)

Chance wisdom

 

Konica12852

 

 

Lostness   (96)

 

 

Answers may seem diminished
by a taint
of retrospective obviousness.

What I need are fewer facts
yet greater power
to mould emotions
round the known:

a self controlling
my own moods.

Not faking superficial coolness

(useful once
for youth’s bold pose)

to cover ego’s hidden wanting
many people’s fond esteem
as fame
that honours
things achieved.

 

I look across our profit culture
loudly advertising greeds
where vice takes
alibis from virtue
with signs of bright seduction
feigning love.

While speed displaces patience
losing respect for old age
progress breeds swift irritation
at those deemed standing
in its way.

 

Some rushing flees
a darker side
from boredom’s emptiness.

Or noticing
sad memory binds us

(like cold chains
of tight regrets)

through
time’s dimension
shaped by loss.

 

These feelings
active
drove my seeking
after
chance wisdom
in libraries.

(Though my quest
with this topic
soon flopped.)

 

I’ve seen books
on techniques
to remember.

 

But can’t find
one

on how
to forget.

 

 

 


 

(2010)

 


 

(Any art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it.

Comments are very welcome!
My audience is quite small and things get really quiet on here most days, so it’s always nice to hear from people.

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I wish everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR!)

 


 

( art / beauty / books / culture / depression / drawing / lostness / love / mental health / philosophy / poem / poetry / thoughts )

 

 

Hyperhope

Konica1255

 

Lostness   (95)

 

 

We can try to heal our psychic wounds
magically: by love.

Though it may end badly…

 

External noise distracts me from my thought
so looking down the street
I see a drunk who’s veering toward strangers
demanding their response.

Delusive faith in popularity might
sense a peak while
near an actual trough.

Caricatured sociability repels
contacts made
intended to attract.

 

This amoral machine: the city
generates excess.
Surplus humans, countless objects.

Now I also class myself
among unneeded ones.

The lost.

 

Life and suffering.
Buddha was right to link them.

But if his methods do not work for us
at transforming pain
once such practice stalls
there dawns that fear of
sinking through despair.

 

Picking up my pen I wrote:

Nihilism from the intellect
atrophy of will.

Illness ruins everything.

And yet…

Beyond eccentric hyperhope
on virtual cyber-heaven

Or biology’s hormonal drugs
where passion’s lust has cured distaste
in other bodies

Perhaps
after all
a point is reached
when

with our actions
or our words

We shall still
enjoy
to fight against

an indifferent
world

 

and fail.

 

 

 


 

(2010)

 


 

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Comments are very welcome!

It’s so nice to hear if someone finds a post worthwhile.

Thank you for reading.)

 


 

( anxiety / art / beauty / culture / depression / drawing / lostness / love / mental health / philosophy / poem / poetry / thoughts )

 

Worshipping beauty

 

 

Konica128516

 

 

 

Lostness   (94)

 

 

Art worships the injustice of beauty.

 

In my case, from afar.

Since any work was summoned forth
through ugliness
which I’ve been forced
lifelong
to endure.

Where much creating
could not faintly compensate
on lacking nature’s charms.

Stuck feeling like some freak
who wears a masking shame
I’d rather hide from
what is loved.

 

Genes have no concept of fairness.
That’s more a cry for those
condemned by disadvantages.

Such I craved to overcome:

escaping my unwanted self
in fantasy utopias

(envisioned glinting their
transcendency
while drifting toward sleep).

 

When young I found
a woman’s spell
also intimidates
revealing an unfitness
thus
fearing my unworthiness
had proved it true.

Inexperience was weakening
subverting brief romance.

Then muscled hunks soon
brushed aside a poet.

 

 

Seeing now
but decades late a
pattern made:
her gaze transfixing
sensing insecurity
once doubt’s erosion showed
before two stark incisive eyes.

The stronger an attraction was
the deeper my unease.

 

 

And so repeated
disappointments
chilled
this wasted heart

which beat
lone time

across these
empty years.

 

 

 

 

(2010)

 


 

( Any art on the blog is mine. I hope you like it. Comments are very welcome!
My audience is quite small, and I love to hear if anyone finds a post worthwhile.
Thank you for reading.)

 


 

 

( anxiety / art / beauty / culture / depression / drawing / lostness / love / mental health / poem / poetry / relationships / thoughts )

 

 

 

 

Kinder conquest

 

 

Konica1187

 

 

Lostness   (93)

 

 

While hate, in others, looks extreme
we often see good reason for our own.

 

Vice is too rewarding
to be entirely left behind.

Hence anger could well clasp offence
as focus of an inner stress.

Scant evidence which vindicates
can bring a short relief.

 

Yet, should want
plus sensed entitlement
become deserving rights
these soon inflame
at nagging faults
with sad reality.

Heaping more frustrations over
still fermenting rage.

 

Suffering need not make us nicer.
Victims might grow merciless in
victory, when pride demands
great recompense.

 

Once armed
a doctrine gains
self-serving force.
Where bias blinds
less crimes seem unforgivable
if targeting
correct disfavoured groups.

Vengeful movements used to work
at hiding guilty secrets
newer versions, missing shame
show pictures
post event.

 

After harmful acting out
an understanding may be sought
and so one hears excuses sound
in softer hearts
like codependent abusees
appease bad-tempered bullying
holding back from bolder speech
they tiptoe round to keep
a peace that rarely lasts
for long.

 

Later
conflict starts again.

Best maintain patience, anyway

just hoping, somehow
kindness, caring,
empathy

will spread worldwide

and conquer all.

 

Admittedly
it’s hard to find

an empire won
by love.

 

 

 

 

(2010)

 


 

 

(Any art on the blog is mine. Comments are very welcome!)

(Am very ill and low at present: finding it hard to keep this going.
Viral attack is further impeding concentration. Hope my writing makes sense?
Thank you for reading.)

 


 

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“Before you die!”

 

Konica1189

 

Lostness   (89)

 

 

That passion to be known
which rages in obscurity

among those craving fame
while long oppressed
by wounding insignificance.

 

Once people felt constraint
from often being seen.

Now cities spread a stressful
anonymity
where visual culture gives
non-appearance taints of
nothingness.

 

Should we embrace our humble fate
not take demanding ego’s prompt at
vainly chasing special praise?

 

Though some lone individuals
lacking faith in what’s beyond
think dying ends their only world.

An apocalypse for one.

 

 

Religion’s wake spawns techie dreams
transcending weak humanity
envisioning uploaded minds.

So hoping vaster data’s grace
permits becoming animate as
ghosts in new machines.

Yet aspirations to spectrality derive
from basic dread of
darkness, fathomless.

 

Older souls might here bemoan the
rotten luck at getting born, perhaps,
in final generations facing
total voids
outside much chance
for virtual
immortality.

 

 

Then I read these (numbered):

“…things to do before you die!”

A current media cliche
tempting us to overrate experience.

As if death’s dire severity were
offset with a well-ticked list
and items added on could
compensate our missing
an eternity or
memories from
what we did.

But instead
my brain
stayed haunted
by

the monster

of extinction.

 

 

 

(2006)

 


 

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