The Workings of an un-mind

Spent many many

nervous awkward years

worrying worrying worrying

too shy to talk to

 pretty girls/hiding poetry books

                                          (the sin, the joy)

got a few kick ins at school

and home life was a

Dante's Inferno of dreams

and then Mother died

and a spear of

ANGER/LUST pierced my skin

tainting my hollow heart

and I was forced/became

                               a man

and had no choice

                  but to stand alone

my roots dug deep

but my spilt seed was lost

upon the wind

I stand here now

gnarled moss stained oak

A man

proud and strong

mistakes were made

and turns went wrong

and the cul de sacs of shame

turned in on themselves

and no-one was harmed

in the making

                        of this poem

I stand here now

(proud strong)

and genuinely don't

give a flying f**k for

what others have to say

                                  heeheehee

                                    signed the Clown

Reviews

[Eilis]

Love the parting shot in this, Gram. It’s like reaching that place where you can look back on something and see it as something less definitive and maybe more defined in another time. Painful experience losing the sway it once had.

Experience shapes/shakes us, but in the end, I guess, we get to choose how we let it. Or, over time it shifts and we have opportunities to redefine it.

These are things I’m still learning myself, so I like to read writing like this that lays it out there in a bare way, but then also, alongside that, offers a more emblematic representation of the inner universe and how it has been shaped by experience. I am always (well, often) a tree in my poems, so of course I appreciate the nod to the mossy oak in this poem.

I suppose shame only has the power we give it, in the end. The clown knows it, and he stands out on sidewalks waiting for those little shame-bearing minions that like to plague us in memory to pass by so he can offer a good laugh and middle-finger.

Good for him.

[gram linski]

thanks, Eilis, I know you understand how painful shaking shaping experiences taint us but they are also a strength , your last paragraph was spot on, lol, now that I know that you are a tree in your poems, (what an interesting thing to say,) I will read them with bark tinted eyes

[Eilis]

Now that I‘ve said that, I’m not sure I have a lot of my tree poems posted here. Bark-tinted eyes is very cool, though, haha

[Robert Trakofler]

I have a hard time imagining you being to shy to do anything LOL but then again even a grizzly starts out as a cub... BUT with attitude I might add:) If I looked back at all of the stupid idiotic mistakes I did and really examined them I would be stuck in a whirlwind of shock much less bewilderment that I even survived... LOL in that sense I dont give a f**k too for I am my worst critic and brother do I criticize, I am humiliation proof!

[gram linski]

haha, badaboom badabing zingzingzing, spot on, B, as my old dead grandma used to whisper in my dreams "kill the cub before the Lion is born"

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice life poem. Everyone does lead different lives and some may be very awkward.

[Gee]

Takes a while to get there but once at the " flying f**k " stage life is oh so much easier to live :)
As long as my good friends and family( some)can put up with me I'll be a contented wee soul.
Enjoyed your thoughts, writing Gram.

[gram linski]

thanks Gee always appreciate your reviews, aye the flying f**k stage is a breeze, that much closer to Death, mind you,