Day 16: 31 in 31

PTSD

Hate is the terror that follows me

Vituperative words the clothing of that

Second shadow that all the meds or therapy cannot sever

It crouches ever on my heels, small in the noon day sun of reality.

A shade more deadly but less sympathetic than my fleshy cancer,

Waiting for the evening creep of media reports,

Well-intentioned Awareness campaigns,

Inadvertent closure of an exit with any other in the room,

The uncontrolled and frequent contact in a crowd;

The memories’ setting sun swell it’s size and power

Till panic swallows my hard won peace of mind.

Day 9:31 in 31

The words and memories speed

retreat

like landscape past the coachcar window.

My monkey mind scrambles and chases

catching only wind and wave

Until I breathe in

Out

Find peace in this new

Where I do not know.

Day 8: 31in31 Poetry Challenge

Middle class affluence always looks the same

The bullseye symbol of suburban prosperity

Restaurants with barber pole motif

A giant yellow M

From sea to shining sea the chains stretch

linking those who have it all to what they will need next.

Day 4: 31 in 31 (Poems that is, precursor to Nanowrimo)

This place I learn, was once called Frogpond

Until Mr. Thomson brought the train right through town

No presumption of progress or high ideas of culture then, just crops and sweat and slavery’s shadow.

Then money road in on the railroads back

And changed all that.

Bustling bank managers and lofty tradesman

Dressed their pale wives in diamonds and paid their pennies to hear Blind Willy sing the blues.

But progress took it’s dollars back

as century turned again, freeways failed to follow track.

Main street storefronts stare vacantly at empty sidewalks.

And only the shadows are the same with the harsh demarcation of white and black.