At one time I was a member of a poetry group down in Blandford, Dorset. As an exercise one evening we were asked to try and describe an intense emotion or feeling. I decided on depression. This is the result.
Alright, OK, yes, I know… ALRIGHT!
So what next? What? Write a poem?
A poem about what? About this?!
What exactly do you mean by “this”?
I suppose you mean my “PRESENT STATE OF MIND”
Alright, maybe I will
Maybe I’ll show you, maybe I’ll tell you just what it’s like
You’ll know then – you’ll find out just what “THIS” is all about
What it’s like being ME
Find a pen and some paper – paper – paper – paper
WHY IS THERE NEVER ANY SODDING PAPER?
OK, it’s OK, found some, don’t panic
Paper and a pen THAT DOESN’T WORK
SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!
Find a pen that works – or a pencil – or a crayon – or a stick of charcoal
A pointed stick will probably do
I know there’s a pen somewhere – there was one yesterday – I remember seeing it
It was probably there ten seconds ago, exactly as I saw it
But is it there now?
Is it buggery!!!!!!
The moment it saw me coming, I expect it just pissed off, sneaked away
to that place where all the buttons go, and the rubber bands, the clothes pegs, bits of string, dreams and wishes
GOT YOU, YOU BASTARD!
There’s always a pen down the back of the sofa
RIGHT – write – now!
Paper, pen – words – words – words
I know where there were some, I heard them just recently, but now there’s just a murmur of voices saying something that I can’t – quite – grasp
OK – so write the mothers down! NOW! HERE! – in black ink on white paper
Spell the little bastards out
Then you’ll have them – they’ll be yours to learn from, yours to turn from, yours to change, destroy or hide away
So nail them down – smear their reason right across this anguished page
Alright, I’ll try
But, to be honest
© David Hermelin 2017