Driving Will – a poem

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Trained to trap, to snatch:

What lightning can be saved?

From the dendrite blooming

Consciousness streams,

Bottled in what lies closest

To the brain banks,

Frothing, crackling, synapse-like,

A life’s work and effort, the risk

Of madness taken each day, every

Moment, to dive into that primordial place,

Just for a singular chance,

Success the least concerning bit

In the back of the mind.

Resigned to Mania – a poem

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Idiosyncracies of illimitable difficulties
Creep in at too many points, palpitating
Along tiny cracks inside the environs,
Not just a medley as unblended extremely
Existing as separate points building
To manic reactions replete within their
Maze.
*
How easily it slides from one other where,
Those realms of nervous insubordination
Lacking the finesse of calmer framed days
As it all crowds in, asking for more, more,
More than can be given, granted, thought of,
Lest those hollows of smouldering eyes shock
Closed…