Best Chronic Poems
~~Chronic Pink~~
(Parents Peril * The Nightmare)
Evil sits and whispers - sweet lullabies
Chimes within my head,
Damnation scratches at my conscious
Of what was and is!
ASLEEP……………….
Water runs down my toes
Rain taps at my windowpane
A fear; I relive my childhood days
~~Dark April showers bring in a chronic look~~
Motions before daybreak, to face a colorless what!
The trickle of musty wind meshes under my skin
The panic begins to initiate the voices
Unstable - a gash of blood fills the mind
SLEEPWALKING……………….
Dark feelings pollute the inside my head
Visions of slitting my wrist from end to end
My subconscious betrays my sanity
Praying is what got me through the dark-mares.
I held my own hand that very night
Telling myself it would be all right
Suddenly!
MY EYES OPEN WIDE……………….
Walking down the narrow hall
The Chimes, the Chimes!
Snapped into a moment of crime
The trail of Sweet lullabies came from my parent's room
Shhh!!! Hush now, *humming to the evil chant*
Whispers of dust whisk through the air
I grab the envelope opener,
My heart pumps, piercing each neck
One by one, they look up -IT WAS ME-
A demonic child’s laughter erupts
A Chronic Pink look
Pacing off the bed
What have I done?
Cries of nothing led me back into my room.
There and only there, water sits under the sheets
The emptiness in my head was the sign of complete
Falling asleep to the quietness around the room
Waking up to, the parents peril sight every night
My subconscious holds no sympathy
To: relive the same chronic pink memory
AGAIN- I begin to hear the sound of scratching violins
Where dreams of demons wear pink
by;pd
9/10/2012
Pain is a constant
Like the ticks of a clock
Counting out the agony of my existence
Without pain, there is no life
Or is there?
Is there an old shoe box in my brain
Where lies the faded picture of a better time?
I am afraid.
If I knew that others surf the wave that bandies me about like a sock in a dryer,
Would I stop swimming?
When others build castles from the sand that swallows me whole,
Does the Lifeguard care?
Does He even notice?
My salvation is a dream,
So I escape into the gospel of Beautyrest,
Where I place all my hope.
I am a creature of the night,
Dreading the sunrise when my clock ticks again
Living for the quiet, dark night to erase my pain, my memory, my tomorrow.
Is heaven just a state where we finally sleep for all eternity?
That is my greatest hope.
Because my shoebox is way too small.
And these waves are way too big.
And the sunrise, it keeps coming, no matter how many Ambien I load in my clip.
'If chronic pain were Olympic sport'
Morning shocks me with a jolt
Night time flies like Usain Bolt
If dream of sleep were 'lympic pride
My pain within I'd win not hide
If feeling tired, was winning gold
My chronic illness medal hold
We would be there chasing Mo
If energy won at being low
If 'pushing through' meant top of game
And trembling hands meant pride and fame
If migraine vice meant all things nice
And neck strain drain meant King of pain
If winning crunch was base of spine
Or BP drop that renders blind
We would excel Olympic pride
Where no one you love would dream you 'lied'
They'd even know it's genes so fate
They'd say 'I believe' not 'you exaggerate'
If feeling drained was strong like Phelps
Where tiredness reigns and brain fog helps
POTS fatigue, compression nylons
Clunky shoulders easy bronze
If Olympian meant broken bowel
We'd feel their pain, lay on beach towel
For every day we feel that burn
From joints all round and stomach churn
If chronic pain were Olympic pride
We'd win hands down, in bed would hide
Chronic Pain – The Beginning
You snuck into my life in the 1998th of May,
Everything about me wishes that you’d go away,
My whole being longs to feel good strong and well,
But for the last 18 years each day has nothing new to tell,
Chronic pain I hate you, chronic pain I hate you…
My story is I used to be athletic but that changed for me,
Playing sports of every kind enjoying being wild and free,
Your gifts to me were all new forms of aches, pains and fretting,
The simplest things became so hard to do plus deeply upsetting,
Chronic pain my rage, chronic pain my rage…
People see us walk and talk and think deep down this guy is fine,
They do not see the inward battle that is stealing all that was mine,
The real me is gone and he is not coming back for he has died,
Oh one truth is my heart is breaking and I just want to run and hide,
Chronic pain the robber, chronic pain the robber…
Those who have been fighting long now just put on a pleasant face,
Family, friends no longer stop by or care thinking we are a disgrace,
We simply do whatever our bodies will allow us to do each day,
Telling fibs to those who happen to ask us how are you anyway,
Chronic pain my enemy, chronic pain my enemy…
What will you do to me tomorrow trust me when I say I can wait,
Comfort sanity good things to think about to get me through this date,
God give me a silver bullet please restore me to my former self,
I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines watching my life from on a shelf,
Chronic pain please be gone, chronic pain please be gone…
Written by – William Arthur Tell
2Cor.12:10 – Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
how chronic is your life
when your about to die
when you know
it was just
a matter of time
how chronic was your life
when you know it was because
they (doctor) won't treat you right
how chronic is it, when
there is too many of us for
someone to care...
black ball for a regenerative life
Terrorist dressed in white
just because i like to write
I gave it all up
every time
as long
as it was next week...
So surreal
the more I did
the more I laughed
out of context...
Escaping reality
so harder
to cope
when it was re-imagined..
Then I imagined
all the bill collectors
as little
voodoo dolls..
They all
had needles
in their mouths
But, I don't care,
I'm holding
the dagger..HaHaHaha!
~ ~ ~
Pretty
Sadly
Needy
Pushy
Limping slowly pretty sadly shy
Anger rises needy pushy pain.
Contest: tyburn sponsored by Dr. Ram
15 years I have been a prisoner
I was the victim of identity theft
Who I was, that person was stolen,
And it was I who had to do the time
Despite not being the culprit of the crime
Half my life was taken away from me
and i couldn't do anything about it
apart from spending my every waking moment every ounce of energy all of my will and brain power saying every prayer to anyone upstairs trying hoping crying fighting for freedom
Then the day came freedom was on the horizon
My shackles were removed the doors were finally open
My exoneration had been granted I was a free women
My fight for freedom had finally been won
The golden gates to life were unlocked lifted they had been opened
My eyes thought it a mirage of lies,
My brain believed it bate being dangled for me to bite
Another humans cruel joke a sick sense of humour
My heart heaving believing it false nothing but lies
Yet it yearned to believe it was truly true
My hope had been broke so many times before it couldn't cope with it even once more
I couldn't believe it was all finally finished
Over done fineto
The fight was over and I was the Victor
Victorious yet I still felt like a prisoner
The doors opened yet I was stuck stationary
Everything I had spent 15 years fighting for
Was just over the threshold of that door
It was easily within my grasp but it wasn't that easy
I couldn't just step through to freedom
Although the pain from my chronic illness had stabilized
More damage had been done than anyone had realised
My mind was a mindbogglingly mental mess that I was left to address
This was something I hadn't even considered or even processed
So I then had to acknowledge my freedom fight wasn't over yet
A new battle has now begun an invisible fight against my own mental state
A mind set born from 15 years of imprisonment, addiction anguish and pain
it isn't a positive thought process that Ive been left with and have now gained
I think it's safe to say many more battles to fight in this war are up ahead,
Me against I my against me and that Is what I truly fear and dread the enemies are inside my own head.
Good Morning Pain
Another day, Old Friend
Silent and invisible
Besides the cracking of my joints
and the pounding in my head
Every Day You And Me
I've grown tired of the misery
Its easier to sleep you away
At least I can't feel you then
But there you are the next morning
You follow me around
With claws in my shoulders and neck
And knives in my hips and back
Your murmurs sharp in my brain
I can't remember when I didn’t ache
When my head didn't throb
When my joints weren't sore
When I dreamt of dreams to achieve
Will you haunt me forever
This endless battle
Living or just existing
Goodnight Pain,
see you again tomorrow
Oh sing to me once more
The melodious tune of breeze
Thru glass of tormented soul
I feel the shout they bore.
Thus whisper to me once more
The beauty of the world I live
Thru crystal words you might to utter
I feel those light touch my wrinkled skin.
Oh caress me once more
The happiness that we build
Thru the sand of times that will never stop
I feel the grain of every giggles made by children in the sand.
Thus embrace me once more
The smell of the wind from green meadow we used to play
Thru the soft tickling grass we step in
I feel the moment we first laid our eyes within.
Oh it hurts me much to see
That I will be leaving you hanging, lurking alone in time
But I pray that the sun will shine to you
And illuminate you in every dark spots you have.
Oh pray me once more
The subtleness of your voice
Thru the room I lay my soul
I feel the empathy and sincere blow of words your lips slip.
Politics season
Sans rhyme and reason
Never-ending blitz
Constant News Network
Won’t give it a rest
Traffic today
Bumper stickers’
Noted absence
Relief, not grief
Excitement
Is absent
Root against
Trump chump
Hill pill
Lose.
3/22/16
When traveling a stretch of life's highway
Does it feel like it's uphill both ways?
Does it feel like winter's twelve months long?
Do you work like a dog for small pay?
Well welcome to a newly formed club
The Association of Chronic Bellyachers
We meet every Thursday at the crack of dawn
We're a bunch of cranky “whine” makers
No grins, guffaws, or laughter allowed
Could be thrown out on your rear
We've a couple of burly guards at the door
Wearing scowls from ear to ear
So if there's really nothing that bugs you
You ain't welcome at one of our meetings
Especially if you're really content with your life
You could even end up with a beating
We take this bellyaching seriously you know
It's developed into a new kind of art
The technique we've developed is really simple
Happiness never invades our heart
Now, if the real truth of the matter be known
With tongue planted firmly in my cheek
I'm really this sweet, kind hearted old codger
Never gripes, never lets out a peep!
Not sure how fond I am of this write very different style to my usual genre. #experimenting
Well look whos back again
My old compardra
My closest companion chronic pain
What a lovely way to see in the new year
And spend new year's Day
Alone rolling around the bed
Unfortunately in agony
How romantic I bet it said
Maybe it is all in my head
My imagination running wild
Shame it's come up with something I dread
Why can't it just leave me alone
Is it intent on constantly reappearing
Till it's isolated me from everything
and everyone one I've known
Maybe I don't want to be alone
Maybe I don't want to be stuck in my head
Listening to all the negative things it's said
I just want to be free,
free of the pain and misery
It teased me for a time
I thought it had said it's goodbyes
But like a predator
It just allowed me enough time to recover
So It wouldn't all be ended and my casket buried
Before it pounced like a panther
And it sunk it's teeth in
right next to my gugular
Its not finished with me yet
like it would grant me a quick painless death
Why won't it just leave me be
or do the kind thing and put me out of my misery
Surely I've done my time served my servitude
Paid my pennants for whatever crime
Will it not be satisfied till it spills my blood
Or has me hung drawn and quartered
In one last final act of vengance
To inflict the ultimate pain on my broken body
Must I scream like William Wallace for freedom
Will it then relent and show me mercy
I think not, I think it thrives on my cries
Like a psychopath It smiles at my demise
I bet it loves to just sit and watch
Yes it's back again
But this time I don't think it sees the need for a reprieve,
this time it's never leaving it's not stopping
Because it has no plans on ever getting going or being gone.
Obviously I've got a lifers debt left owing,
it would no doubt say sing.
CHRONIC MELANCHOLIC-IAN MUNYWE
You are a chronic melancholic,
critics` labels are emphatic.
Allegations rooted in phonetics,
assertions cemented in logic.
They often spark thoughts,
Am I a chronic melancholic?
With objective prejudice they device,
means ways methods of advice.
We must save this sinking case,
lest in society we lose our place.
To obfuscate truth to showcase farce,
and claim he is a chronic melancholic!
Devising potent mind solutions,
is a path I long ago chose.
One that is draining even tasking,
for there are too many goals.
Resist that burning urge,
to try champion change.
If not you as well,
will be a chronic melancholic!
When traveling a stretch of life's highway
Does it feel like it's uphill both ways?
Does it feel like winter's twelve months long?
Do you work like a dog for small pay?
Well welcome to a newly formed club
The Association of Chronic Bellyachers
We meet every Thursday at the crack of dawn
We're a bunch of cranky “whine” makers
No grins, guffaws, or laughter's allowed
Could be thrown out on your rear
We've a couple of burly guards at the door
Wearing scowls from ear to ear
So if there's really nothing that bugs you
You ain't welcome at one of our meetings
Especially if you're content with your life
You could even end up with a beating
We take this bellyaching seriously you know
It's developed into a new kind of art
The technique we've developed is really simple
Happiness never invades our heart
Now, if the real truth of the matter be known
With tongue planted firmly in my cheek
I'm really this sweet, kind hearted old codger
Never gripes, never lets out a peep!
© Jack Ellison 2013