Agoraphobia
It has rained for days, snug he is in his room
putting the world to right
The rain stopped, time to go and do some
Shopping driving to the place of the open
So big the supermarket is, rows upon rows
of food and washing up liquid; so many
People, what are they doing here
a wave of terror, hold on to your shopping trolley
must not collapse, people will think you are
sick and call an ambulance
stroll, take what you need, look cool
Check your card, remember the code, and try
to find a till where an elderly lady sits
stroll to your car, look nonchalant
I do this every day
safe in your car, adjusting your thoughts
You made it, mate. Nothing wrong with you
Sigh, the daily struggle for an agoraphobic
Agoraphobia
Can you imagine, all my life, I have suffered from agoraphobia, the fear of being exposed as the true me without a fig leaf to protect me from the scary world, yet I was hellbent on curing myself because, on that stage of life, all I needed was a push, which I found without any help from you.
It began in Liverpool when I had three cafés to run when the morning fear was acute, only stilled by whisky. Yes, I was the boss, ok with a hole in my heart, I knew I was a fake
Nervous breakdown doctors were not told why you got
into trouble, they thought it was about drink.
It was not that simple; it was about a fear of the open, alone going back to childhood.
The people trained to help looked another way I cured myself by understanding what I had to avoid: drunks; I retired, which was easy because they thought I was a hopeless alcoholic, but drinking was never my problem,
You were my problem, with your college education set you, and after reading a few books, thought you knew about the human condition.
The birds will sing when I wake,
The crowd will clap, the ground will quake.
I’ll be heard, I’ll be seen,
Touching the hearts of the unseen.
I’ll reach the stars, I’ll reach the moon,
Leaving echoes in every room.
My words will ripple through the air,
A spark of hope, a whispered prayer.
I’ll build bridges where others fall,
I’ll light fires, like it’s my true call.
I’ll change the world, prove them wrong.
Show them broken still means strong.
Until then, I type away.
Alone in this dark place, I stay.
I’ll share my heart, but hide my face,
Wrapped in silence and disgrace.
I’ll lose my mind, I’ll go insane,
Chasing words, to ease the pain.
Until then, I’ll step aside,
Watch the world pass me by.
I’ll wake this world, make them see,
Until then, I’ll let them sleep.
9/29/2024
The hurt within has a calming effect,
Hidden inside my mind's covert entrance,
I rest with torment, happy to reflect,
On my emotional independence.
'Let's go out' a grim and ghastly sentence,
Tortuous and loud, louder than I thought,
Noise engulfs my ears, silence it is sought.
Caged between
giving up and pushing forward
You are trapped within this
solitary zone
where chaos and hate overtake
moments of joy try to escape
You run the distance with nowhere to go
Quarantine days, like a Broadway show
echoes in your head torment you all day long
breaking the warrior who was once very strong
Sitting by your window,
You watch how the light plays on the trees
and the birds swoop
living each day like a bleak dream
monotonous routine on loop
A swirl of emotions melts into soundless oblivion
swamped all over you with a negative caution
You curl up, claw at the walls of the pit
giving up every time but still holding on with a grit
Anxiety rips you out of sleep,
you label it as Agoraphobia
I tell you we’ll overcome this pain
and start all over again
I tell you, You’re an Artist- create Art
For you touch lives, you are a savior of my heart.
Agoraphobia
Voyaging from Cuba to South Korea across the Pacific
takes about three weeks on an old freighter, but we knew
it had a beginning and an ending.
We have been held up in our flat for three weeks with
no ending in sight, next week it is said or perhaps the week
after that, if we are indoors long, we will get agoraphobia
and unable to leave the flat
Fearful of the world outside full of people and automobiles
agoraphobia is not a joke I have suffered from it on and off.
Once I stayed on board a tank ship for six months not leaving
the ship once I was saving money for further education
I needed help to walk down the gangway.
Once in Liverpool, I had another attack unable to leave the house
but I got help by a psychologist who lured me on a bus trip,
he was going to wait for me after four stops; he wasn’t there
I had to walk home among a throng of people
So, it might happen again because I tended to prefer
loneliness.
I c annot go near my front door...
it might mean a surprise is in store.
I might have to speak to people one day -
and golly gosh, I won't know what to say.
You see last December I went to a gathering
of strangers who wanted my blathering.
I didn't stay long, I just wanted to go home.
It has rarely been like me to idly roam.
I had the light, I crossed the street,
when a gigantic water truck did I meet.
He said he never saw me, squished me to the curb,
his truck ate my scooter's front wheel - absurd!
He was in the wrong and to hospital they took me.
Now they gave me lovely money, which I spent,
while sitting at my computer, quite content.
But since that day I stay inside...agoraphobia
Come walk with me, we'll take a picnic
to the park or beach, we will find a secluded
Place out of harms reach.
Come walk with me, down deserted lane,
By orchards of apple, pear and peach,
a Place out of harms reach.
Come walk with me, down by rivers edge,
watch fish swim, trout, perch and roach,
a Place out of harms reach.
Come walk with me, through our woodland,
we will sit under oaks, pines and copper beech,
a Place out of harms reach.
Come walk with me, to the house of God,
listen about goodness that they teach,
a place out of harms reach.
Come walk with me, every day you hear my plea,
your safe, trust me no harm will come of thee,
together we could find peace, love, our utopia,
Why oh why do you suffer from this awful agoraphobia?
exhibited smile
whispers of trepidation
makes hearts feel heavy
Agoraphobia
I lifted my glass of red wine towards the lamplight as seeing
the light through a dreamy, rosy haze; I saw a dirty glass
full of fat finger marks I could not blame the barman since
I was alone at home thinking I should have been an actor.
I went on stage once an actor friend of mine, Tom Hardy was
rehearsing a play, all those empty seat looking at me I was
consumed with limelight fear. Tom loved his calling, he never
made it big but loved his craft, I saw him play Lesley Howard
in a movie made in Portugal and he was perfect for the role-
This really is about agoraphobia which has blighted my life and
I disappointed many by promising to appear at a public do and
not showing up and feigning mix up of dates. I told Tom, swore
he could cure me, by me taking none speaking role in a play.
Well, Tom died.
My wife’s gone to a party I’m looking after the cat and she don’t
know how famous I could have been
Here I lay oozing out of my box…
…having fallen from the assembly line.
I feel cool air infecting my box.
My fortress of individuality crushed.
I see other boxes and hear their joyous song as they ride above.
On the floor I still hear those moans of pain.
The moans grow louder.
louder.
Louder.
Louder!
So, I sit inside my box dreaming, regretting and wishing.
Inside my box I feel cold, scared and ashamed.
No longer scared of them…
But ashamed of what I’ve become.
Here I lay oozing from my box having missed my assertion…
…awaiting my destruction.
By Robb A. Kopp
Here I sit inside my box to the assembly line of the Boring Masses
Here I sit inside my box dreaming…
enjoying…
dreams that I can’t explain.
Dreams of color and music
Dreams of wine and dance
Dreams of song and joy
They can’t get me here
I feel warmth and safe inside my box.
They can’t make me feel in this fortress of individuality.
Outside I hear a constant rhythm of moans of pain.
Why would I want to be like them?
So, I sit inside my box waiting, dreaming , wondering and fearing
The rhythm is getting closer
louder.
Louder.
Louder!
So, I sit inside my box fearing, anticipating.
I feel cold and scared inside my box.
Scared of them
Here I sit inside my box fearing my insertion to the assembly line of the Boring Masses
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
No walls! Naked space
And panic born of openness,
Where we confront love’s dread expanse.
Beware! Terror-place
Of freedom where our hearts undress,
And too much candor kills Romance.
Retreat! Go—retrace
Our trail and trek where fear is less,
And sentiment (old-fashioned) has a chance.
No walls! Naked space
And panic born of openness,
Where we confront love’s dread expanse.
Beware! Terror-place
Of freedom where our hearts undress,
And too much candor kills Romance.
Retreat! Go—retrace
Our trail and trek where fear is less,
And sentiment (old-fashioned) has a chance.
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