Stranglehold

Poem

because I need the space,
to waste
away;
To drift,
and sift the lake,
For sanity's sake
and in the surrogate sanctuary,
of my stolen sanity,

I do it again

until I hear the silence,
Distant islands
of calm;
Comatose asylums;
a fragile peace
of glass to be broken,
old friends awoken,
by rising sirens;

Pricked with panic,
mithered and manic,
boxed up tightly,
lit too brightly;

For pity's sake,
in a pit full of pity,

I do it again

Author's Note

Feedback appreciated.

Reviews

[Phil Madeley]

Like it.
It speaks in many ways.

[. serah .]

-- the quintessential drifter in me relates to the idea of drifting interminably... -- the aspiring poet in me is amazed by the way in which you rhymed words... seems so instinctive and intuitive... rather than structured and laboured... -- the scene you paint is very urbane and vivid... -- interesting work...

[Sean Cairns]

Now you, my friend, have mad flow! This has some of the best rhythm work I've ever experienced! Are you sure you're not Mike Portnoy? Sorry to take away from the sombre feeling of the poem, but I have to say you did a great job here.

[Salsebox]

Thanks. First one for about 27 years. Really appreciate your kind appraisal. The structure does need a couple of tweaks actually, but I'm grateful for your comments on the flow. Thanks sgain.