STEPHEN FRY

Thank you Ruthy. Most of my life I've kept those feelings all to myself and still haven't shared those poems with even my closest friends as they know nothing of mental illness and I know it would be too much for them. They'd dither and not know what to say and feel awkward and offer that horrid sentiment called sympathy.

I used to think it was sympathy I was after. Now I know it was simply acknowledgement for the experiences I've had. After all I listen to everyone else's, it seemed only fair.

The trouble is, given a choice would you wish to spoil other people's happy lives by forcing them to look at a painful one? Not if you love them you don't. I've had no choice, but if I had had a choice I would certainly not choose the painful option. Would anyone?

Actually aside from one counsellor I don't think I've ever shared those poems with anyone before. It actually feels ok sharing them and I feel better for it, but I'll still remain cautious as to when, where and with who I share such things with simply because I'm tired of overt displays of cruelty.

The root of my illness has been my mum, in both the genetic and environmental sense. The root of hers? Well at least some of it was events, jury's out on whether it's genetic too. But here's the thing... place a 'normal' person in that situation and how would it effect them. There's something very healthy and normal about getting depressed when things are rotten. What would be far more abnormal would be to celebrate and do cartwheels when someone you love is suffering.

I have a theory everyone on here is effected as much by events as by genetics, but the mix is different from person to person. In a bizarre way I'm glad I've seen and experienced this side of life it's helped me appreciate things of real worth. A happy day, a good friend, the slightest bit of good luck. And my Mum had a lovely mischievous cheeky sense of humour which is also something I inherited.

Thank you Ruthy and thank you Mum. Big love.

Katy...
Are you sniffing because of your tonsilitis or because you're not allowed to post your poems on here?

You might have to write another book! Or is that why you're sniffing... has no one taken it for publishing?

Brian Patten got his dark poems published, so there's hope for all forms of writing I think.

I write a little poetry.....not that good

I climbed up through uncertainty found fresh air and took in the view,
I then tripped down the mountain side while seeking dreams to pursue,
I wondered busy streets for answers that may never be revealed,
I searched deep within myself perhaps its all concealed,
I asked someone qualified and their answers were all too vague,
I always hide my sadness like I'm concealing a mental plague,
I may seem fine to look at and I can speak a merry tune,
I can certainly become the lonliest guy in the room,
I sometimes asked for help and was told it was in my mind,
I felt like a loser of the hypochondriac kind,
My cycles go on for ever from scum to the king of the world,
I do not know whats around the corner within this mind I feel absurd,
How can I maintain this attire?
I'll hide in the crowd, a jovial mover, too busy, cant talk now.... I must retire

Here's another

Envious of the vociferous inebriates that baptise the streets with golden streams
I am longing to kiss the sky, to kiss the sky
To hold up my arms and be embraced by the omnipresence once familiar to me
My eyes have been tainted of late
Another psychotropic failure
Caging my soul yet allowing me to fall
A laboured quest for a holy grail called stability
I look to the future with hope

My greatest friend
My sweetest promise

Time will beckon again when I must wear my routine mask
and attire myself with everyday drapery ready to perform on this stage
as calm as the breeze I will recall my response with precision
"Alright, How are you?"
"Fine thanks, You?"

Here is the shortest one but with more meaning and truth
People

We all have many faces
As we are seen by many eyes
We all have many characters
As we are judged by many minds

Thanks

G

You are talented. Thank you for posting. I imagine the song sounds good. I am unsure of what sleaze core is though.

Lol, Sleaze Core is a new invention. It was created by a new band called Cult of Whores and Dogs (on facebook and MySpace). It is a mix of industrial, punk and metal.

Don't give up writing poetry it is very liberating.
Vx

@ Realitystops, Jesus that sounds bleak are you okay?

realitystops said:
Just my normal self McGuy.

Living in here is not a bright time.

Cannot write enough to get it out - long time so far - time to go , unknown.

Hello Realitystops, how are you?
This is a poem for you, about a woman who is the nature:

Silver threads on blackened sky,
pale clouds slowly drifting.
The darkest night, a silent cry
the magic winds are shifting.

Caressed by darkness she appears,
floating, though she's walking.
Free of sorrow, free of fear,
singing, though she's talking.

She makes the sparkling fire burn,
keeps the water flowing.
to earth she makes all life return,
with air she keeps it growing.

By dawn she smiles and settles down
soon she will be leaving.
She binds the moonspell, makes no sound
while silver threads keep weaving

All the best to you!! Astrid