Details |
Angela Anderson Poem
Have you ever gone Insane?
I remember the space and time
Where my mind liquefied
in-between chains of reality
That I had originally planted within myself
The only problem was that it wasn't watered
Nor ..nourished
It grew in the shaded and jaded filtered pictures of
the Sun's dying rays that I'd labled:
"I've gone insane"
Aside from the screams and voices, bellowing against me
Like the piercing winds that I mistook for comfort
Without permission, Grabbed hold and sunk their bloody claws,
Into ol' sunken me
The blood representing, "My apologies"
I've gone insane.
AND FOR SOMEBODY AS KIND AND SO HUMBLE AS I
I'd gone insane
Uncontrollable body and mind
I couldn't let the darkness win
Not this nor, next time..
So I raged
A war inside of me so painfully scorned and seared
with tears of the demons I've silenced in order to feel
Sane.
I don't think it would've mattered if I'd caught that rare bounty
Before it manifested, Bounty-less
For I'm not a mere coin in a sunken treasure,
I am the sunken treasure chest
3/3/18
Copyright © Shawn Anderson | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Angela Anderson Poem
Today the blurry vision calls to her
Last night She drank too much
And to be honest,
She doesn't know why
It was without reason
She awoke this morning and the air was screaming
at Her to breathe once more
And sobriety, alongside it, telling Her
"It's okay to put down the bottle"
faint whisper.
Experience soberness and that it's okay to feel
Afraid.
OF WHO YOU ARE WHEN YOU'RE SOBER
It's a whole different person.
Who is powerful, creative and connected
but it's also, someone who feels so mcuh
and feels the pain all too well
And sees the demons people describe as medicine
She can step in-between all the heavens and hells
So, yeah, She's terrified of who she has become because
she can become so much more if she just allows desire to infiltrate
one day at a time.
And today, I miss her
and her wings
Wounded, but still flying
and today, I miss her
and her smiles and laughter
That presently exist, but could..
ever multiply
And today, I miss her because She's been skipping meals
because a demanding voice yells inside her brain and head
That hasn't been there for a while..
But has once more, returned
See, the darkness loves to imprison her and cause her to backslide
but I think, now, She's ready to catch it
Hook, line and Sinker
So maybe this is her making a decision to be
better again
to be strong
and to beat those demons down
12/15/17
Copyright © Shawn Anderson | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Angela Anderson Poem
Shall I keep apologizing?
For the silent screaming,
that has somehow, manifested into some..labeled, romanticized , interpreted version of labored anger...
harbored.
You think it's anger? You think it's aggression?
Do you really see me, from thine own given two eyes?
Without that third component?
Do you really tell me that you "think" I'm mad
When only, finally now, after so much of the service I've survived and assisted through.. CRAWLED back up
you mean? to tell me?
that the fact that I raise my voice to a volume that you provide on a daily basis, during your contemplative; DISGUSTING amount of complaining about the things that don't mean a damn thing to me anymore...
you mean to say?
I'M considered mad?
maybe now I'm empty...
Empathy......
For hours, days, months and years
for over two decades now, I've silenced myself..
into somebody that's dedicated everything.. life.. to their sacrifice
To assist in your growth.
To water you.
To say, .....
So, what would you say?
So, what would you ask?
Nothing..
other than bearing my own unbearable, growl of what you call
"Pain"
as if it's a measure at this point ...
As if suffrage is measured..
between the voting winner, and a losing "factor"
Nobody is top place..
and because I've lifted them all above the wreckage of their own vantage point
I've arrived
in my own delicate refuge,
of wanting to leave so badly ...
If I told you that last night, I managed to gather 120 minutes
of that so called, delicate slumber.
but that in between, those hell, awful Growls,
I had to manage an entire establishment 3 hours on and after
That in between those silent sayings..
"You're finally seeing that you're not worth it all"
weighing down on my responsibilities..
Weeping sighs of wondering
"What would this be if I didn't sing along?"
what are those you say?
let's just say,
"I weigh so much, that I'm skin and shrunken bones."
The weight of the world, the succumbing darkness that keeps taking and taking and taking Took.
Gone.
Where does one...so stuck too...that seal of the enveloped world of darkness of the world.
one by one, I always say back...silently
"I'm livin' the dream"
Loudly,
If I leave I can't fulfill this act.
If I leave I can't understand what this loneliness feels like
what it means
Because somebody like me,
will never..quite go away.
yet, I'm nearly there.
Copyright © Shawn Anderson | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Angela Anderson Poem
Imprinted into my desired slumber
I lie here; awake
distracted by the simple fact that I can write
In a way that each bone completes every sentence of my structure
and my blood flows, intricately into everything
and everyone else
and it's paralyzing
I've doused myself in a seasonal dressing
Coating me in a way that I have to accept
the personal concept,
that I'm fearless, but I fear
the way you glance my way
almost as if, you're uncertain with your life
I'm uncertain, too
but because of the fact that life is
messing me up,
like a week old pile of laundry, cleaned; now, the crumb catcher
awfully cluttered
I woke up today and it's quite funny, because I'm considering
slipping away
into nothingness, but I chose, once again
to feel okay
Copyright © Shawn Anderson | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Angela Anderson Poem
Did I sign a contract?
For these personal life experiences slept beside my always busy mind
Calling to me
As I stumbled down the Devil’s staircase
Once encased by my addictions
Bathed and soaked scars that I allowed myself to control and define me
Suddenly,
My Angels picked me up
and filled that empty space
So I could teach one how to adore thine own scars
So I could pick you up, up, up, up, up, up.
And fill your empty space
I remember the time of feeling unable to get back up again
My wings tethered and my mind scattered and my chest splattered as I echoed each breath of these unbearable gifts
I see the devil in every mirror and through every souls doorway I encounter their demons
Sometimes facing them into the late hours of the night
I’ve shed tears for my ancestors
Bearing the weight they couldn’t shed
Carrying these immortal longings along with the commitment of releasing them
My Angels picked me up, up, up, up, up, up
And filled that empty space, space, space, space
So I could pick you up, up, up, up, up, up
To teach you how to love each scar
How to dress unattended wounds
How to weep below the moon, moon, moon, moon
How to growl in the face of each darkness
How to listen to a fellow sad face
How to learn how to love yourself
As you stumble down the Devil’s staircase
I’ll pick you up, up, up, up, up, up
And fill each empty space, space, space, space
I signed a contract, to bear a loving heart
That loves so deep
With a soul that weeps
And a chest that will breathe
These immortal longings.
Copyright © Shawn Anderson | Year Posted 2019
|