1 An Informal

there’s an electrical demon wandering

in the nerves of my left arm and shoulder

poking at sh*t and scraping its nails along

the inside of my bones, slurping

the marrow and vomiting it back out

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Lake of Voices – a poem

Fey gods have forsworn this lake

Of voices that harp of storm, of

Rain and wind, anguish and dark lives lost

To feed hunger in harmful horror

For naivete to get caught, mouths

Yawning, yawing, to catch, to trap

Corporeal spirits unwary in crossing

To find dank lapping waves

 Where once lay

Silent paradise.

If Razors Could Talk – a poem

We reap what we sow, seeds left to sprout,

Pre-destined dire dreams loom, shock doubt,

Those unclean towers humbly piled, soar

With darkly grasping fingers for ceilings

Sorrowful from these wondering eyes of

Wisdom.

 *

For a surplus of pain seeds may be had,

Scattered, planted, flowers to grow

From soil fertile in sadness, growth

Of bulbs with madness and death, razors

Gleaming with songs sung in other lives,

Wasted.

 *

The smoke, storms and sorrow of a century

And more may not have weathered better

An edifice as such which lays claim

To that maleficent moniker, clay title,

The Devil’s own wonderment and opiate

Elixir.

 *

Funny lines creased into faces, arms laced

From blazes found amidst lanes soulful,

Jets in vacuum, the towers reach, the seeds

Sown leave no space free for foragers,

A will of winsome wonder turned worrisome,

Withered.

Secrets of Devilsong – a poem

 

Secret lives lived in the arcane dark,

Roads untravelled by most but rode

By many yet less than the multitude

Can be more real than the external,

Secret these stories, holy covenants

Kept by palms sliced and over cauldrons

Held for the smoke to seal and flame,

Within burning flames of dreams

To make even the Devil fully blush.

The Valley – An Offer Made – a poem

 

Melancholy, maudlin and merry brought

Are the mirror’d reflections as I muse

Upon the darkness illimitable residing

Within this slender frame, the calm surface

Reflected back at me, a lie told calmly.

*

Nothing but health is shown, clean, bright,

Hale self-assuredness, yet assured only

Is the darkness living within, not

A cancer or some entity cacodaemoniacal

Yet rather just my nature, rarely fathomable.

*

Little known, barely by others understood too oft,

Was it little wonder that I drifted away

And left my flock a’grazing and went forth

To that secret place, drawn in by sweet

Scents of opiate bliss? Of course I went.

*

Others had been drawn to that special valley

Yet why was I offered such a prized deal apart?

I was like no other they had ever seen

Or will ever see, so they whispered soft

To me, over the soft sibilant soughing of bitter bliss.

*

Embrace the darkness had become my mantra

Once I partook of those dangerous delights,

Deathly to many, a prison to more, horror

To still many others, and I bothered much

Before, and now clearly I see clarity, balance.

*

Those flowers, though they mayst be fulsome,

Winsome, bright… all kinds, not just hanging

Ruby Devil trumpets but yellow, hungry mouths open

For Ra’s sunlight, spiked obsidian leaves, so shiny…

The dreams they all bring are opiate shaded,

Colourless.

I Am My Own Hero 2 – a musing

Part 2 – The Long Search Ends

 

From late 2010 I developed excruciating pain in my right wrist. it was so bad that I could barely think. I reached for as many painkillers as I could, every day. I had physiotherapy, used creams, did stretches, had ultrasound to loosen it, hot water bottles, ice packs, massage. All improvement was short term. The pain and stiffness was here to stay. Now the pain is far less but I lack a lot of the movement I used to have with that hand.

No conclusive cause found to explain the hand pain.

Late 2011 my left arm is numb when I wake up, shoulder extremely painful. I attend more physio, have more tests, do new stretches for the nerves, hospital visits, massage, and so on. Again, all improvement is short term and no cause is discovered.

Early 2012 I develop pain and stiffness in my neck and entire back. More tests, visits to a chiropractor, massage, more physio, new exercises which help my body overall but do nothing for the pain situation long term. No cause found.

Mid 2013 the left hand develops similar pains to the right. No cause found there either. Physiotherapy is ongoing from then until now, sporadically requested when the pain becomes too much. I experiment with everything I can. Herbal remedies, exercise, various painkillers, stretches, rest, meditation.

Late 2016 my request for part-time hours at work has led to a whole new battery of tests and a possibility arises. Fibromyalgia. I look back over my life, my entire life, and see that there was so much I didn’t pay attention to, realise how much of my daily life is effected by a myriad of symptoms. Pain, tiredness, anxiety, frequent urination, Fibro-fog (totally real, I didn’t believe it at first), terrible short term memory (my long term is excellent).

I am my own hero.

I always have been. I identified with all those others, Miles Vorkosigan, Lovecraft, Plath etc, because of the struggles and trials they had to deal with to do what they loved, what helped them to get through it. I look back and see that I have done the same. It makes me happy, and proud to be who I am. Writing has been my saviour, something to help develop myself, work towards goals, improve my knowledge. Writing is the only thing I care about in this vortex of unending pain and tiredness.

I’ve got time off until January 9th and I then return to work in 2017. I have spent this time rearranging my life, looking forward to my next steps now that I am armed with knowledge about myself and can plan with my capabilities, strengths and weaknesses known at last.

I am my own hero.

Who’s yours? What will you strive for in 2017, and your future?

Thanks for reading. =)

Raviera.