Poem - The Voice

 

 

Trembling and tarnished, these hollow steps draw near,

Rods of iron enclose this flesh of pale transparency.

Numb of heart and hand, to feel my own soul’s fear,

It is the light that speaks, the light that none can see.

I live my deeds each day, like a fool I cannot shed,

The simple vice that haunts me with shadowy intent.

The only whisper, heard among a voice of thousands said:

‘Lose your way, be mine and follow where the Master went’.

Looking up, my heart began at once to heave and sigh,

For in the murky distance there, a mountain barred the way.

If all my hearts resolve could be gathered in one cry,

It would no more break the morn, than Moon could light the Day.

 Yet whispers have their power; observe the lover’s speech,

A murmur fires the heart, and grasps what once seemed out of reach.

Poem I've submitted to a competition

As fire is to the sun

As I gazed at the flames of the fire

I traced the lick of its tongue in desire

Not unlike a flowers feeble attempt

To unfold its heart and drink in the light

 Yet sometimes the fire has failed to warm

The glacier deep in the soul of my storm

Where loneliness breathes its icy intent

In undying, shivering whispers

In winter the fire still reaches my face

From unthinkable distance, inconceivable place

A weakened caress, bereft of intensity

Of love that burns and hurts me.

I realize the power of the fire hasn’t changed

Though distance from it has increased the range

At which I can touch and taste all its love

Safe from its burning, from burning me up

As fire is to the sun in its strength

My heart is an echo of immeasurable length

Come down from Divine, its image to bear

In my spirit, though its weight casts me down

In times when the first drops of dew feed the flower

And unclouded days whisper hints of the power

To come from the fire as summer approaches

I shrink from the thought, yet long for it also.

First three hundred words of my novel, The Fifth Transcendent

         Dusk swept over the tree-lined sky like a stealthy assassin as the car wound its way into the countryside. The nights seemed to come in quicker than the tide, Kip thought, cursing softly to himself as a car travelling the opposite way flashed his lights at him. The angel eyes of the car shone into life with a quick flick of a switch. His thoughts followed suit, rapidly flashing back those last twenty four hectic hours. One moment you think you've got all the time in the world, the next... those sounds and smells haunted his senses still. How could someone knowingly plan to do that to other people? What made someone choose, of all places, a teeming, busy restaurant with mothers feeding their children, with lusty teenagers and limping widowers all enjoying the atmosphere in Greenwich park? Moments after the bomb had exploded, Kip found himself sprawled over a young boy clutching hold of a model Cutty Sark he must have purchased at the nearby souvenir stand. And all he could hear in the midst of the terror and confusion were the boy's ragged whimpers, accusing him of breaking his model ship. Kip remembered thinking, hey, pick your battles kid. Pick your battles...

            The foghorn of the truck instantly brought Kip back to the present. He had drifted over to the other side of the road in his thoughts, and with a wrench of the steering wheel he manoeuvered the car back to safety. In the rear-view, the truck was still braking, blaring its horn in defiance. 'Get a grip', Kip mused, giving himself a wry smile in the mirror. He should have got someone to drive him up here, maybe even sent someone else to investigate the whole matter; his mind wasn't switched on. But the psychologist in him was too attracted by the mystery of this case to put it in the hands of some recent post-graduate who knew everything about the mechanics of a brain, but next to nothing about the secrets of the mind.

Insight

In the mental health profession, the word 'insight' is used, and is the attribute most valued in their patients. What it means is this:

If a patient has insight into their own condition, then they are aware and have an understanding of the causes and effects of their illness. This in turn leads the patient to desire courses of action that will foster growth and move them away from illness and towards true health. Therefore, if a person lacks insight into their own condition, they are unable to progress towards a positive mental state. This is because they will believe things that aren't true and act in accordance with those false beliefs. How do you get a person to eat food when he is convinced that everyone is trying to poison him? But if that person realized that those self-same paranoid thoughts were a product of his deteriorating mental condition, and not of other people's intentions, then he will be more likely to let you help him eat.

Right, so we now have some understanding of what insight means in the mental health profession. The first thing I want to say is this: that in my theory, the reason many people do not have insight is actually due to an instinctive tendency of the mind towards self preservation. It's the mind's way of facing the unfaceable. When experiencing overwhelming physical pain, the brain will shut the body down, and we will lose consciousness. I also believe that if we experience mental pain to an overwhelming degree, the mind will respond by dampening certain neuro-transmitters in the brain (stay with me here, I won't use more jargon than I have to), which in turn makes us mentally 'unconscious' to our own condition, and lack insight. People who are struggling with mental health problems aren't exhibiting signs of madness, they are showing the brain's way of trying to cope with an overwhelming sense of a real or perceived pain.

         This leads onto another important point. If this is true, then it explains why some people have insight into their own condition and others don't. The people who lack insight don't have it because they aren't yet able to internalize the pain and make some sense out of it all. So as a defence mechanism, the mind keeps them from actively thinking about what they can't yet face, and seeks in abstract, strange ways, to bring the person to the point where they can one day begin to accept reality.

         My final point is one to ponder. For those people who do have insight into their own mental illness, they have to be very brave indeed. Why? Because they alone are fully aware of their own mind having slipped away, and are not spared the brain's way of cushioning the pain. They have come to the point where they can perhaps handle what once seemed so overwhelming, and now with gritted teeth they turn and face it in all its awful glory. It takes courage to face your own pain. If you work with someone who has insight into their mental health condition during a period of illness, give them a little respect. They've faced a mountain and climbed it, step by terrifying step.

Oh, and if you happen to come across someone who lacks insight, before ridiculing their 'strange' behaviour, remember that it's only the mind's way of coping with too much pain in their life. They deserve your compassion, not condescension.

Poem - Become who you are

Become who you are

I feel like a bird that's forgotten to fly
With great trepidation of heart
That only has instinct on which to rely
But no confidence in knowing the right way to start

I know I have wings, they're light and so free
And I look at the currents of air swirl away
But to launch out unsure and let myself be
Taken up on them, is beyond my ability today.

Its all I can do to watch others fly
Safe in my uncertainly fragile mind state
Remembering the feelings of joy in the sky
But grounded, I'm left with a pained aftertaste

Feelings are children, they hurt and they bleed
And wait for the night when they hide among dreams
Be mother and father, speak to them softly
Give them the love you can give to them only

Then with confident wing spread abandon
You'll take the first step off the rail
And become who you are, a bird soaring greatly
Majestic, with glory and freedom in trail

Bible study note - Romans 16

@CrownofChrist: He is able to establish you http://bible.us/n/Eawx Shared via TweetCaster

The dreaded words....

I hate hearing them. They're a sign of impending doom for me. Those dreaded words. It means minutes of agonizing searching, hours of living with those other words, "I told you so", and days of sly looks from my other half.

The words are " It's wherever you put it last". Let me explain. The words I say before this lethal sentence go something like this:

"have you seen my wallet (substitute keys / jacket / laptop / shoes / blank DVDs / phone / book ! )

To which the merciless response comes - " It's wherever you put it last". There is no known defence to this answer for the male brain, it leaves us hopelessly, utterly stumped. Floundering in a maze of my own making, I desperately try to retrace my steps, hoping against hope that I might somehow stumble upon the thing i've lost.

finally, I admit defeat. I come, meek and broken, back to her. "I can't find it. I've been looking for ages", I whimper.

She sighs, gets up and disappears. Seconds later she comes in and throws the thing I've spent what feels like an eternity looking for right at me. How did she do it!??! Suspicions enter my mind. She must have hidden it from me! Maybe she has some secret 'thing' finding device, and won't let me use it, ever. But it happens so often that i'm forced to admit that, no, she doesn't have any of those things. She just....knows. she always knows!