Performance Anxiety

I think most poeple worry a little bit about whether they will be able to do what they are seeting out to, for some it's much worse and their fears can become so overwhelming that they don't even try; convinced that it won't matter they will always fail. This poem was trying to capture what might promote this from the inside.

The laughter ringing in my ears
the jeers and insults flowing
Oh come on, that’s awful, you didn’t even try
why ever did you think that good?

My heart explodes with pain
I’m embarrassed, disappointed and ashamed
no matter how hard I’ve tried
the hope that spurred me on now dashed
battered and obliterated
the pieces, shards of glass,
unseen and yet embedded, a rash of painful splinters
why ever did I think I’d been good?

So desolate and lost, there’s nothing to be done
no sitting still accepted, I’m not allowed to stop
yet all the while I fail
why ever do I bother?

So to the next what shall I do, however shall I choose
my head it rants and rages so and all before I’ve started
a torrent of past anguish, resentment and despair
life without fulfilment where I’m never any good
why ever do I care?

Big brother and I!

I think many of us feel we've been overshadowed by others, whether the elder brother, the baby sister, the sucessful cousin... or whoever it may have been. What is said shapes how we think others see ourselves and ultimately to how we see ourselves. Often this can be good however not always. I remember from my childhood that I was always compared to someone else, or to something else and so I wrote this as a comparison between  a brother and sister. The intention was to show what she saw and heard rather than tell.

My Big Brother
I was good at maths, but he was ace at science
I enjoyed my art but he was fantastic at sport
I kept to myself but he had lots of friends
he had such energy while I got tired too quick
he was neat and smart and sophisticated, I was just a scruff that tried hard
he did things that they enjoyed, thought good and admired
I did things that scared them
he was talented and driven, achieved so much so fast,
I just plodded on
he bought a house at 23, while I still studied hard
he married and divorced before I even settled down
he borrowed fast, paid back slow and I just made my own
he played fast and loose, while I worked hard
he lied to all and I was honest to a fault
he exceeded all their wildest dreams and I did as expected
he was the apple of their eyes and I was just a girl.

The Nature of obsession

It's been a while and strangely I have been writing but nothing seems to have come up to snuff. This time I have a collection from a competition I entered at Slough Writers group. Three short poems about obsession. The idea for each was to voice a way of looking at obsession rather than a particular obsession and try to promote the feelings of the person suffering from it. Each poem has a different take, the first Road to recovery was a simple look at how you could become obsessed, what happens when it takes over and then once it's under control how they lived with it knowing what has been.

Road to Recovery
Unseen the loss of will
it hides within the ritual
I’m willingly enslaved
 
My life is full of patterns,
they encroach upon my happiness
I can’t continue as I am

A slow and painful process
I despair of being free
will always watch myself

This the second,
Bondage
Another knot, another loop, pull it tight
to feel secure, held, protected
the rope is my comfort.

It tugs as I move, my body aches,
restricted, my soul it weeps
that I so bound myself

I struggle to unravel it, to untie myself
to reach the knots that bind
I beg for release

Another knot, another loop, pull it free
I breathe easier, slowly emerging
the marks of bondage remain

drew on the reason why someone might become obsessed and what the obsession might do for them both good and bad and was aimed from the child growing up and how once they have become entrenched in what they were doing to survive found they were the one that was suffering and the pains it took to start the journey to be free of it.

Okay Number 3 is different again and is more of an adult outlook where someone has already recognised their obsession and is desperately trying to free themselves from the outset. It was trying to look at the way that although we may wish to be rid of our behaviours we can miss what we're doing and end up in the same position as if we hadn't even tried and frustrated that we lack the insight to achieve our freedom.


A life of vicious circles

Down a road you have not travelled
the end is still unseen
the people and the places change
the feelings stay the same.


It ends upon that same crossroads;
a place of torment and despair.
you whip around and see your path
more clearly seen from here.


You see the choices that you made
and how they brought here
you see the veil that you pulled
but not the reason why

I'm not really sure any of them really worked. The line count was very restrictive so I might have another go at them and make them longer.