Long Imbalance Poems
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Mother,
I used to walk in dark places and know that I was safe.
Because I knew that I loved you.
Mother,
I have abused my brothers and sisters.
I have contaminated your purity with murder.
I have raped your daughters.
I have kidnapped your children.
I have brought your blessed bosom to the brink of destruction.
And now, even when I walk in daylight I do not feel safe.
For now I am aware of what I have been to you.
Worse than a prodigal, I have endeavored to exploit the very mother who nurtures me.
And now that I have worsened whatever imbalance was in you before I arrived,
I endeavor to flee you like a coward through the grace of an oblivious savior.
Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of water.
I have dreamed a dream of living water.
And in this dream Jesus, my Savior, told me that he was not oblivious.
And in this dream Jesus told me that he was fully aware of my crimes against you.
Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of fire.
I have dreamed a dream of unquenchable fire.
And in this dream Jesus reminded me that I was sent here to heal you as you taught me of manhood.
And in this dream Jesus told me that if I could not love you, my mother, who I could see, then how could I love my Father in heaven who I could not.
Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of air.
I have dreamed a dream of whirlwinds.
And in this dream I breathed in the breath of forgiveness and I realized that it was not too late for us.
Mother,
I have dreamed a dream of earth.
And in this dream, Mother Earth, I see you and us together, fighting for our freedom.
Fighting against the delusion that our fates are not eternally intertwined.
Mother earth,
Please forgive us.
For true, we have betrayed you.
But it is not too late.
Mother,
I promise you that as sure as my savior is in heaven we are going to make it.
Mother,
I present myself to you as a living witness.
The Lord has not forsaken us.
For within our DNA is the secret to your healing and the end of our insanity.
Mother,
Thank you for loving and protecting me, even as I raped and wounded you.
And now it is my turn.
“In the name of Jesus, the earth and all of the earth’s inhabitants are one mind, heart, and body. In the name of Jesus, we are one person, one planet, and one purpose. In the name of Jesus, the lion will soon lay down with the lamb and this beautiful sound, this sound of the sacred Gaia will know harmony!!”
you ...
redeemed me
from the belly of a star
ripped me ragged from a
hydrogen-helium core
spinning, divergent, toward sentience
from solitude ... howling
I did not ask for that existence
the blasted, bloody boon of banality
but it was mine, nonetheless
(now ... madness)
we merged -
a flailing vortex of cosmic clusters in entropy
prolific and sensually insane
indelibly charged in
our dynamism
transformed in a maelstrom
of wild wonder and molten mania
a cacophony of
carnal chaos and hunger
fused, like the heavy elements
we are radiated gravitons ...
the light-devouring
attraction of black oblivion
the imbalance of ions at constant -
a non-baryonic notionality
vagrant, erratic neutrinos unbound
we are ...
dark matter …
us.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Best Free Verse From November 2018" Poetry Contest, Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
Depression is not treated by putting on lip stick
you stand in the mirror and put on the tears snot
drooling in your mouth behind the curtains awaiting
to go out on stage and face an eager audience depression
stings like a bee you painfully feel it you can't hide by journaling
writing poetry being clinically depressed takes constant
medication to control the chemical imbalance inside the brain
every brain in different although everyone gets sad it's a human
emotion being depressed for life is a cancer that has to be
treated professionally or the consequences can be very fatal
millions die every year from suicide sadly homicidal suicides
no one should encourage anyone in such a state to just write
a book glamorize depression this euphoric thinking results
in suicide notes and suicide planning this can be a dangerous
ticking time bomb without medication why all suicide notes are
poetic lyrics mental health ptsd are not a greatest hit anyone
I mean anyone in such a state needs to put down the lipstick
put down the pen stop typing suicide notes do yourself a favor
and make that call I did thirty years ago I am still taking
medication in therapy and writing poetry I'm alive I survived
my own suicide many are not alive to tell their story or just
write poetry or publish a book don't be a deadline the greatest
poets are read only after death don't make your suicide note
a greatest hit on your own life save yourself save someone you
love get help stay own your meds clock is a ticking notebook
by: mrs yolanda joy nicholsen
written 2-14-2024 2:07 am.
valentines day.
In loving memory of Virginia Woolfe
This struggle I have is from within
In my darkest moments I fight to grin
Because I am aware that stigma is true
Mental illness is cruel a burden to you
It’s like a disease that handcuffs minds
Depression confession lost in teal time
It’s like being stuck in tan quicksand
A slow sink in a nightmare with no chance
Looking from the inside I feel trapped
The enemy is me and energy is zapped
Why can’t I be nicer to the child inside
I tell her the truth she regurgitates lies
Lies like we don’t need the peach pill
We can pray it away use diet and will
In a manic panic we can run on treadmill
Frantically romantic we love never kill
I can never escape my cherry challenge
Shame it brings that I have an imbalance
The harder I try the more I seem to sink
Slow sink is worse than a quick ending
I can wake up from this neon nightmare
There is no cure but I am able to share
If I keep hope afloat I can learn to thrive
Slowly sink becomes a way to survive
My grandmother often advised
"no need to borrow trouble."
My grandmother-in-law warned
"you don't need to look for trouble
because it will find you,"
which seems a better fit
with my own experience
with actively soliciting trouble,
Disempowering investments
purchased at lowest ego-cost
for discounted risky value,
or borrowed,
when too broke to buy
and too disempowered
to even hope for owning
what cannot be virtuously purchased,
free of trouble,
cooperatively empowered--
like healthy relationships
and resonant communications
and bicameral political well-being.
I hope it is also true,
as I might share with my grandchild,
"you need not hope to individually own
or merely borrow
any discounted empowerment,
because positive powers will find you."
With the current national Republican leadership
borrowing
and purchasing,
heavily investing in political neglect of public health care,
mental health care,
personal and public
bicameral imbalance,
climate fragility
dissonant across all divided hemispheres,
The troubling opposite
of restorative peace and justice,
new green economic and ecological win/win strategies
for global energy democracy and beauty,
for nutritional resonance and resilience,
I might at least hope
future generations,
including my grandchild,
look in a wealthier
more ego/ecotherapeutic direction
for borrowing
and cooperatively investing
in co-empowerment.
I contemplate endings and beginnings, as the globe turns much more times than my
Better chances have burned, I feel eternity's intent to smaller or larger affairs is
Almost democratic In it's indifference, also i pick up inferrance of certain change
Yet life & death are quite unmoved, still intransigent binary bedfellows trencher men
Swallowing our life's days nights efforts, in what cause? The cause of freedom? the
Cause of consumerism? One thing I feel it cannot be for love' or honour; or equality
So if its none of the above what can we gain? What do we count as gain? Division?
Derision? Knife crime tension fear, we have the one parent familys the children in
Pre school all day, women at risk at when alone; prolific drug use, the hostility to
Creation and God' The stifling of free speech? We have all these as part of our reality
Yet more is required it seems' to redress the balance? Or should that be
Imbalance.?
If you asked him, he would be right
he who challenges and always wins the fight
he can do no wrong in his own eyes
thinks they can’t see through his disguise
Men like him think they’re a gift
they claim no part in any rift
but then wonder why people start to drift
He has his victims, for whatever reason
sits them down and plots his treason
He finds a weakness in every strength
puts his strongest players on the bench
a problem he’s caused is not a problem he’ll own
he’ll strike you down with his criticising tone
Men like him, they won’t own up
to their mistakes, honesty’s dried up
If you need his help, you’ll be stuck
on your knees, out of luck
He thinks himself special, valuable and sought
but that’s not why he occupies your thoughts
Men like him, one day they’ll learn
respect is something you must earn
Does anyone see the people, perhaps its just a crowd
Does anyone hear thunder, from inside a popcorn cloud
Does anyone smell the fire, after lighting up a smoke
Does anyone taste hunger, before the gluttony chokes
Does anyone feel the pressure, building inside my head
Does anyone sense imbalance, pallbearers of our dead
Does anyone know for certain, oh my she looks so pure
Does anyone rarely mistake, the stale breath of a whore
Does anyone get a laugh, just as we're spilling our guts
Does anyone state the obvious, mankind's going nuts
Does anyone hate another, and feel love for themselves
Does anyone fall over the edge, when left on the shelf
Does anyone recall moments, wishing they'd never end
Does anyone wake up hopeless, a dream's only pretend
A dark angel writes in the air,
“There will be no tomorrow for you.”
Then puffs of shiny cloud ebb,
Ebony night surrounds me.
I tremble in fear.
I hover between now and never,
as if I'm traversing a rough river
on one bank: life, on the other: death.
I feel an ebbing of nothingness,
like gulping down bad breath,
or gasping in asphyxia,
between a being and non-being,
sandwiched between heaven and hell.
Which way must I go?
Lord make the right choice for me,
for I tremble in fear.
How oft had I been told,
hell is an illusion, don't believe!
Now it seems like reality and I fear.
I see my past, its rights and wrongs,
a sort of blind imbalance,
not a hair is lost.
Where is the illusion now?
Or worse is it delusion and regret,
that I could have achieved much more?
Thus I tremble in fear.
Spirals of fog surround me,
whirls of fatal mists envelop me,
a long dark tunnel with a faint light ahead.
But what lies at the end?
An ephemeral awakening or an eternal damnation?
What weapons are left for such a fight?
I can only give my soul up and pray:
O Lord, I trust in Thee.
I fear no more.
When imbalance of life churns hapless poignancy
And the zephyr of inequities breezes melancholy
Dissonance reverberates echoing pathos of grief
Seeking exaltation within metaphysical profundity
As hushed posture conjures up humbling catharsis,
Leaning in quietude, questing paranormal vitality,
Liberating from bounds of mundane, the ordinary,
Energizing calming bliss of unfamiliar, extrasensory.
Mortal soul steadily crosses limits of understanding
Reaching deep into unknown, unexplored territory,
Daring to search for knowledge in mystical obscurity
Pursuing enlightenment from supernatural intrigue,
Discovering newfound acuity blossoming internally
Adulating freedom of shedding narrow boundaries
Gaining divine wisdom, postulating own doctrines,
Comprehending missives in blissfulness of sagacity.
As laments mellow in teachings of superior intellect
And bawl of distraught soothes in heavenly solace
Finding ambrosial tranquility in endearing calmness,
Physiological longings amiably, peacefully dissipate
And gradually soul enlightens, unafraid of mortality,
Yearning for permanence of purposeful inviolability,
Meaningful beyond self, detaching from materiality,
Synchronizing harmoniously in idyllic, placid sanctity.
January 21, 2022
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 9 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Transcendence