Foul tempest wind dost beset thy slumber,
its rain doth drain and dampen to stupor.
I rithe at thy great agony's bequest,
haunted by frightening reminiscence.
'Still the torrid pleas of thy soul!', I cry.
Thunder does naught to distill the shrill screams.
Lightning drenches me in thick vulgar sweat;
heart racing, mind pacing, fervent unrest.
'Will I e'er see a brighter morn than this?';
for foul tempest has consumed most my years.
But just then, when all seemed undone, foregone;
rain culls, clouds lift, and a rainbow now dawns.
09.02.2026
('Resist the devil, and he shall flee')
('I have set my rainbow in the clouds...')
When you grow up, you realise that monsters are definitely real, but they don’t live under your bed, or in your wardrobe, or in the dark corners of your room.
The real monsters live in your head.
The ones that speak in shadows.
When your thoughts stop being yours, you swallow them whole until they claw their way out.
The damage was spoken before you could silence it.
They heard what you said, not what you meant.
You lost them somewhere between words and silence.
That chapter is closed, and you don’t read it anymore.
But the monsters in your mind still rehearse the words when it gets quiet.
It comes at night, a tendril below pillowcase.
It comes in a café, steam rising in accusatory curls.
It comes when reading, words spooling into wordsearch loops.
It comes in conversations, translating words into true falsities.
It comes within noise, an invisible barking that hunts in silence.
A day so fine, no ills on my mind,
then it's late and angst lays me down
those rude intrusive thoughts
those bruising, bad night thoughts
They come at night, enter my head,
when out the light and prone in bed.
Lay me down with my brain's views
and intrusive soon fiddles my pillow.
Nighty, my sane fights madness
that night covets as a faved toy.
My good is erased, my sleep chased
when in bed dread slaps my face.
those rude intrusive thoughts
those bruising, bad night thoughts
Dark ramblings play in my head
trying to snuff what was declared;
knots of words litter hazy thoughts
on bite of evening as I plead for silence.
But a litany of defenses intrudes my space
as I blindly look up, framing a starlight
to assuage this deep tug of anguish,
where own feelings are not heard,
barbed thoughts grating, welling
each time you explode...unaware
of my need for some respect-
Yes, I may be a woman used
to bold commands which scar me
like a wounded, street animal
reproached without familial fairness--
yet only you must bear the consequence
when I free these hands, screaming
back until we both bleed.
.
Dare I share my intrusive thoughts
Once suicidal in a mood so dark
I actually tried to stop my heart
Using vitamins to sin with life to part
It was a low that got so deep
Manic tide had overcome me
Was hearing voices in trilogies
Mad as I was bipolar buried
I recall walking outside
Collapsed in the sunshine
Barely recall ambulance ride
Feeling lost wanting to die
Intrusive thoughts from deep hell
Kept me lost and so very unwell
I was a boat without a sail
Within my mind in a prison cell
Lost many months in a ward
Though so sick poetry still soared
God used doctors nurses to save
A crazy little poet from herself that day
Intrusive thoughts are bothersome at night
when I’m in bed, prepared to go to sleep.
My mind keeps racing, and it’s hard to fight
those ear worms which into my brain may creep.
I’ll hear the chorus of some new hit song
unceasingly repeat, repeat, repeat,
or maybe there’s a thing that I’ve done wrong -
like something I’d said that day indiscreet.
I’ll lie there thinking why I was so dumb.
Then other thoughts kick in out of nowhere,
persisting like the beats heard on a drum.
It gets to be almost too much to bear.
Enough! There’s one sure way these thoughts will scram.
I down two capsules of Temazepam.
There’s a monster menagerie inside my mind
these beasts are not cute, cuddly, or kind
they enjoy torturing my thoughts at night and all day
I’ll introduce you and tell you how each one behaves
First we have the notorious, "Nadine- NooneLikesYou”,
Then “Walter- You’reWorthless” is in my mind too
Here is “Rita Repeater” who never lets me forget
“Lala” likes words like Limacine, Lugubrious illiterate.
Meet “Tutoo”, who says “too fat, too old, too dumb to think
and "Christopher Critic" who says this poem stinks
If you know my monsters, I really feel for you...
This makes them seem funny but we know that’s not true.
Intruders
Invasive interlopers
Encroaching on the edge
Of thought
Prowlers invading
The sanctity of the soul
Clumsy burglars
Violating the boundaries
Of whispered secrets
Purring cat burglars
Seeking comfort
What if I tore up the map -
not gentle, but ruthless,
ripping until the roads bled white,
and let my feet kiss the dirt
like they were born to wander?
What if I spit out the words
I’ve swallowed for years,
each syllable a blade,
carving silence into something
that finally screams back?
What if I let the darkness in-
not as a foe, but a lover,
its black hands pressed to my chest,
whispering truths
the light was too cowardly to hold?
What if I stayed in the fire -
let the flames peel me raw,
until I rose, ember-eyed and grinning,
no ash left to bury me,
only the bones of someone new?
What if I dared the edge,
made falling an act of rebellion,
an art form,
gravity nothing but a jealous god
I refused to kneel to?
The what ifs are wolves,
pacing the dark of my mind,
teeth bared, breath hot -
and I let them feast,
because this is my hunger,
my rebellion, my reckoning.
And what if I stopped asking?
What if I grinned with bloodied lips,
spat in the eye of silence,
and did the thing
they swore I couldn’t survive?
A knife on the desk
"To be or not to be" says
The intrusive thoughts
Intrusive growing with a stir
pushes you over the border;
I can't take it any longer;
Out of order, out of order;
Deadly quiet as I reached out
all that escapes me is a shout;
It all ends now without a doubt;
Total blackout, total blackout.
Maybe he got in a car accident.
Maybe he just hates me.
Or maybe…
He was so mad.
The angriest person alive.
Because of something I said years ago.
So he was speeding in anger.
There was a guard rail,
And a semi truck.
I can see it now.
Or maybe he’s fine, and driving, driving, driving.
Away from me.
But I don’t truly believe that.
I think he was speeding.
He crashed.
And crashed,
And crashed…
Because he was speeding.
Away from me.
I think these thoughts…
Are part of some past life.
From a life that is vivid.
From a life where I did something horrible.
The knowledge which haunts me.
The things I had done, but when I tell them the truth…
They think I’m crazy!
They try to tell me I’m a good person.
Which makes me laugh for a moment.
Taking a break from those thoughts.
Taking a break from being lonely.
Until I’m in my quiet house, once again.
Away from those friends who are too kind.
To a person as horrible as me.
In the name of 'equity' and 'inclusion'
Female athletes suffer Biden's incursion
Backing transgender males in their competitions
~ destroying female athletes' ambitions
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