Strange pain in my body, in the strangest places. I can't stand
getting old. The surprise of every day-a new weird tingling,
a strange shooting pang. Through the hip, like somebody is
urinating on the socket. It stings. There is no explanation. And
so I can't stand getting old. As if my body is mimicking and mocking
the excruciation of my mind……but that I can tame, calm down, train,
humanistically render into poetry. Yes, even when it has to do with
little ugly killers who false accuse of rape and get the trophy woman anyway.
Yes, anyway. G-dammitt! My life is nearly over sometimes it seems. And often
I feel like I am going to die out of nowhere. Perhaps just when I recover the most
from all that hyperventilation and shock. Perhaps just when I resume some success
and some kind of plateau in a peaceful trance in my life. Suddenly, the horror of
what it is I know will scorch through me unannounced, unprepared; when I am finally
completely back to my normal self, when I feel like myself again, finally.
And I just won't be able to bare it. It will be so horrifying, and shocking,
I fear I will not survive its return at the least expected and prepared moment.
To express pain is right and healing. Thank you for taking time to comment. May your world be righted and shine.
Thank you for reading and responding and sharing and most of all, understanding. I appreciate it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
My poem Sorrow Drears And Fears is dedicated to you my dear Julia.
Thank you for making note of that; I will read in a moment.
I am just about to read that. Thank you for making note of that and I will comment in direct reference to the poem. Thank you for reading and sharing.