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
Paralyzing fear cages him in;
Perennially trained outdoors - his jealous eyes
Roaming about free - strange faces
Oh, how he wishes he could be...
One of those faces!
"One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life. The word is love.
Sophocles, Greek Poet
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tanked temps pools inky smears ere striking lights,
nightstand shelved as bed post warming invites,
facade postpones ceiling beams gold strike streaks,
soleless soul flits swarming countenance cheeks,
dance preps off-Broadway show and a bit more,
mirror laughs hushed, smiles aloud, assured score.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hogwarts seedbed on windows, one attends,
self-mocked reflect face, sees the village ends,
pressed off, Hogwarts seedbed--windows, returns,
swings, tick, chime, digital, sands, time-take-turns,
midday passes, pinks-whites-brown creamy melts,
boredom still on, chips and pops up, rain pelts.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ain't an, Acro..., Aero..., Aquaphobic,
Where is love? Heal this ... Agoraphobic.
Forgive my thoughts unstoppable
Feeling wrong is natural as bone
Don't overthink the morning with doubt
The voice of God is in shameful thoughts
Forgive packing oily lunch for my son
Accept the dreaded work familiar
Sit down in the corner when it’s done
The sinful little things are exhausting
Accept rather than control who I am
But acceptance without change is hard
Accept I’m guilty down to my DNA
Must I embrace this strange redemption?
My son has left his home for another
Start smoking when the house empties
My sins return to me with every inhale
Trust doubting is as natural as cancer
I’m a failed agoraphobic father
Lessons learned are re-cleansed on repeat
See my shortcomings through a child’s eye
Faltering is natural to a crippled mind
My guilt mocks me reaching for forgiveness
Says I have two left feet while others dance
God reminds me embarrassment has no shame
Rescue is patient even for the handicapped
***
Psalms 32:5
Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD.” And you forgave the guilt of my sin.
knock knock
who's there
tax collector
knock knock
who's there
tax collector
knock knock
knock knock
knock knock
tax collector
shhh maybe
he'll go away
(later that day
too agoraphobic
to go out and
play came
another rapping
almost rasping
upon my
chamber door)
knock knock
knock knock
knock knock
(a voice using
a bullhorn sighed
then said) i
know you're in
there
(no subtlety
has Death)
A stubborn old Taurus
I wish I was a tortoise
To live life at a reasonable pace
But more on topic
I'm agoraphobic
I could go out never leaving my place
05.05.18
Viv Wigley
I wish I was a - Poetry Contest
Forever will their alacrity to commit development and success
To our country remain in our remembrance
Lets ajar the curtains of the world of the dead
To plead for their unfinished visions into our palms
Salutations of mountain Everest
Won't suffice their required respects
Their agog to feel and fondle success in their country is aggrieved
By their limited life span
Their names is being mention even in the world of the fishes
And the forest of apes
Poverty and under-development are agoraphobic in their midst
Their legacy of good vision and selfless attitude is crown king
Their pictures remain in our views
Our motherland will hail loud their names around the globe
Beneath and above the earth
Their works are kept in the book of forever-remembering
They are the printed footsteps of the past
Humble,
Rudimentary,
Comfortable clutter to abate fears of agoraphobic stumbles,
A 4x4 white-washed landscape provides the perfect artistic study.
Claustrophobic,
Artificial,
The clean floors become lava so I've practiced my aerobics,
Ugh my artistic inspiration is siphoned by this unfortunately accurate description, an obstinate mockery of my work, look at it sitting there all pompous yet still so superficial.
Blank canvas,
Infinite utensils,
Every little "mess" perfectly fills settles in its stanza,
Of graceful brushstrokes and triumphant crescendos to form my easel.
Insufferable antithesis,
Genocidal doctrine,
Insidiously contagious and unbearably loquacious,
Infecting homes content in their mediocrity and ensembles' sheik rebellious fashion.
A standoff at high noon,
Between libertarian creativity and authoritarian germophobia,
Both sides claiming a fair fight between equal rivals yet they both undermine each other through sabotage and flaunt their charm like geisha,
Who shall I choose?
Eh, I'll figure it out in the morning.
Watcher
from the barren trees of winter
to the golden warmth of autumn leaves
I am but a forlorn watcher
gazing through a window
afraid to venture out
yet allowing myself to imagine
nature’s beauty
be they lonely country roads
or cities bustling with people
an agoraphobic woman, I retreat from both
participation eludes me
as I stare at the world outside
wary of mingling with nature or society
still dreaming of how my life might change
if I could but open the door
but I remain a watcher
trapped inside my home
waiting for an invitation
from a friendly stranger
who will open his arms to me
*Written May 14, 2014
Setting sun
Splash of burgundy paan-spit
and the paterfamilias nodding off
pink filial freeness
silhouetted against a crimson feel- flare
(or was it orange flair or even purple fair)
symbiotic exchanges
slapstick sequences
elfin hemlines and tarty décolletages
catching agoraphobic impulses
homing…
04 aug 13
For Charlotte's contest
I awoke in a half dead state.
Senses crippled with no thoughts.
I lay alone, in an empty space.
The nothingness lasts until I peel open my eyes.
Without warning bursts of light pierce my soul as the colours in my world overflow.
That empty state was live and new, a brilliant sight that slowly grew.
I throw open my door, and my senses are assaulted with life.
A spectrum of sounds and a swirl of smells collide.
I can feel the world, as I stand in my doorway.
A bleak existence that now has meaning.
I can feel.
The warmth of the sun beats down.
The gentle touch of the wind exhilarates me.
I am lost in time, with no need to find my way.
I can see the leaves on the trees flitter.
The windows of the cars flicker with reflected light.
I dare myself, and close my eyes, leaving the beautiful sensations.
All I can do is breath, and now I feel alive.
I fall back, and land on the grass.
With eyes closed I feel the hundreds of blades, fresh, and new.
I can feel, and I am alive.
Alex Gladu
A Feeling of Hope
IVF
Times without number
That’s as far as one could remember
Or better still conjecture
At this end of this ocean we stood, at the edge
Aghast at the tardiness of virility
Invisible except for its vivid physiognomy
That swirled and rolled and spent itself
In a recurring recuperation of empathy
Till rains agoraphobic arrived
As a successful ‘in vitro’ in the glass sky
A sodden blast of breeze scattering a mound of leaves
Breathing into the fertile insides
Slick in fermentation
Sticking to sticky bloodied life.
9 Mar 13
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
Entry for Rick Parise's contest
For PD's 'Freeverse contest' now on 13 mar 13
with deep chartreuse eyes
big & peering through the crowd
assembled against her will
at her family’s home
she slowly makes it through
with arms folded & gripping herself
but the first attack is what sends them back &
it comes on like a tornado
hurdling over the plains, off in the distance,
and then as if without warning
tearing through her consciousness,
destroying all remnants of the immediate moment.
so she turns & runs back to the first room that she finds empty
locking the door behind her,
screaming to herself,
rocking backwards & forwards
wanting the comfort of her own dwelling
wanting to never leave again.
her breathing quickens,
she gasps & gasps
as if climbing to the surface of a lake in the winter
whose ice she has fallen through,
yet though she can see the sun through the translucent barrier,
she has not the strength to break the ice &
her heart is beating so fast
she feels as if it is going to explode in her chest.
rocking back & forth
rocking back & forth
whimpering & wishing she was back in her home
alone,
comfortable & safe.
It’s hard to say that I’d never be this
Way if I were to run from the way I
Search for all the answers I always miss.
I could just let go and let the world pass by.
Living life a bit agoraphobic.
Maybe playing it cool, just over look
It. Living life a bit apathetic.
But I have to look for what has been took.
Why did the life go from the one I love?
What happened to the light I always seek?
What happened to peace that flies like a dove?
Why are people in masses always meek?
I could be nice and never think twice, but
I am always going to ask, “why,” “but.”
My lifeline was severed,
I scream but no one hears.
No communication, no oxygen.
My god, I’m going to die out here,
doomed to float around
in black nothingness,
prisoner of my fears,
agoraphobic and claustrophobic,
until my brain shuts down.
And my killer watches.
My lifeline was severed,
I scream but no one hea...
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