Further Evidence of Mental Decline.

On By Richmond Road

It’s only subtle. Insidious may be a better word. But I’m finding it increasingly difficult to string more than a few sentences together these days. I have not failed in a writing competition for quite a while, however, having opted for the financially prudent tactic of not entering one.

I have scratched out a few lines that occasionally pretend to rhyme in response to others. But they are definitely getting worse, having already started from a low base.

But here’s some of them anyway, just for the record.

****

A nautical fellow named Frank

Took to sea in an old water tank

In there he hid

‘Till he opened the lid

And it filled full of water and sank.

*

There’s a spider crawling on the wall

I hear you calling will it fall

Upon the bed? Such dread

Spreads through your head

That with eight legs might thus be wed

I hear you thinking after all

That you might hold me close instead

Now on the floor a herd of ants

A military style advance

A target deep within your pants

And plans to make you squeal and dance

Should I upon them promptly prance?

Or give the beasts a fighting chance?

On the ceiling paint is peeling

Dirt concealing mould

There’s bugs there’s gnats

On filthy mats

The rats are getting bold

Before you kneeling. Still appealing

My love. You’re feeling old

No wheeling, dealing. No time worth stealing

Please give me healing from the cold

*

Poetry, as we all knows

Is for them, that don’t do prose

A platform for artistic rage

A mess of words thrown at the page

To let the reader rearrange

What might at first seem deeply strange

With meanings hidden from first view

The reader gives them life anew

It’s like my drawer of underwear

You’ll never find a matching pair

Of socks in there, if you should look

It’s just a poem, it’s not a book

But you’ll see better what I say

If you politely look away

And find a more reflective view

 Giving credit where no credit’s due

 *

 

Let us speak of magic

Of mysteries within

Of searching through the labyrinth

To end where we begin

Trapped within the chamber

Where we hide our every sin

Where we find what we have lost

Where we lose all that we win

I hear you in the distance

A gentle violin

Your spirit calls, I walk through walls

To reach beneath your skin

*

 

Grab a bottle, pop the cork

Kindly use a knife and fork

I allow you within my dominion

But I don’t want to hear your opinion

So take a seat, but please don’t talk

 *

We sit then we crawl then we walk

Use our hands then a spoon then a fork

Things are progressing

Our parents obsessing

But regretting the first day that we talk

 *

There is no proper time or place

Get that flag out of my face

Those precious lives all disappeared

To hide the truth you’ve always feared

To satisfy your petty need

Gorging on your filthy greed

*

Freedom.

a mirage

that grows real

with every second look

Until you walk towards it

And realise that you have imagined

Everything that you thought to be true

And that reality itself is just a mirage

From which you lack the freedom to look away

*****

Are you still reading? No? I thought not. I’ll shut up for another few months.

 

 

 

22 thoughts on “Further Evidence of Mental Decline.”

  3. (((((((Bravo Mr Richmond!!!))))))))) Corky, theatrical, metaphoric ~ Poetry!!!
    Below are a few of my favorite lines 🙃

    “Poetry, as we all knows

    Is for them, that don’t do prose

    A platform for artistic rage

    A mess of words thrown at the page

    To let the reader rearrange

    What might at first seem deeply strange

    With meanings hidden from first view

    The reader gives them life anew

    It’s like my drawer of underwear

    You’ll never find a matching pair

    Of socks in there, if you should look

    It’s just a poem, it’s not a book-“

    Like

    Reply

    1. That is so wonderful of you to say, Chel.

      I have learned a lot from the realisation that, despite our diametrically opposed epistemological perspectives we find ourselves philosophically aligned in many ways.
      All that said, I don’t really think the world needs more of me, or if it ever needed me in the first place. I think it might need more of you, though.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Spoken like a true curmudgeony man.

        The reason we’re so aligned is because I think like you. I just kept going, instead sticking around in atheism.

        That still doesn’t mean I’m not curmudgeony as well…

        Like

      3. Nope; same jaded road. Same distrustful skepticism. There are definitely signs and they’re amazing. Many claim there is a roadmap as well, but I’m sure it’s more like an intended denouement of a writer and many sequels are forthcoming.

        Like

      4. A roadmap …. I suppose, after all, that 3 wise men almost literally witnessed the birth of Christianity using astral navigation that would have done Vasko De Garma proud, and to a level of precision, in fact, superior to any modern day sextant.
        As for the sequels …. particularly the televised ones so popular in certain areas of your own country, you’d have to admit that they fall well short of the original in terms of poetic appeal.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Chel …. ALL religion is very odd. That is, more or less, the essence of it. One cannot discuss knowing the unknowable without things starting to sound a bit odd.

        But I’m all for oddness. I may see the whole thing as a fiction, but much of it is a beautiful fiction. The thing that spoils religion is humanity. If it weren’t for humanity and humanity’s desperate need to ‘explain’ everything, religion would be fine. It would be great to live in the time of Thor and Apollo and Vulcan and Eros, don’t you think? Back in the days when the Christian and Islamic and Hindu Gods didn’t exist, because it was a time before we felt the need to invent them.

        There has been a bit push to make religion less odd – a bit more marketable to the masses, but this has never really worked, I don’t think. As soon as you start trying to remove the mystery you begin to realise that there’s nothing much left – the magic has vanished.

        I’m more in favour of old Catholic Church services where everything is in Latin and people wear strange pageantry costume and the air is full of incense. It’s dark and mysterious and beyond tangibility.

        The moment I started seeing acoustic guitars appearing in churches I knew that we’d lost our way.

        If God is all that we don’t understand then trying to explain ‘Him’ is to misunderstand that very nature of religion.

        Liked by 1 person

      7. Once again, you and I are the same in thought. There are no electric guitars at our church meetings and no mainstream watering-downs (although, yes, they’re not in Latin).

        I’m able to see from many perspectives and have come to the understanding I currently have as a very fulfilling and complete one.

        I will say that you and I diverge a bit in the final paragraph, where you wish for God to remain mystical (magical) and without explanation. I know there are rules and order to which everything must abide; for me, personally, I seek logic and rules over no explanation at all.

        Like

      8. I mean it in as far as God, if I am to apply the term at all, IS mystery. A God explained is not a God. I can’t speak for the specifics of your church, but for most belief systems logic needs to be the first casualty, and I’d point out that God himself seems to insist on it – requiring instead, faith. What separates Gods from humans is that humans are bound by logic. Gods have no such limitations.

        Like

      9. I knew what you meant. The mystery of God is as much a mystery as the genre: all we need is Holmes gathering us into a lounge to explain the big whodunnit, using clues that were in plain sight the entire time.

        So: no, abandoning logic to insist on accepting its absence is ridiculous.

        Like

      10. Hmmmm ….. there are lots of clues, we are really only debating what conclusions to draw from them. Frankly, I don’t think even Holmes would be able to come up with any sort of proof, one way or the other.

        But who doesn’t like a good mystery? Isn’t there always a tinge of sadness when Holmes reveals all and the show is over, don’t you think? Some mysteries are best left unsolved. Magic is only magic as long as the magician remains hidden beneath his cloak.

        Like

      11. You sure are determined to stay locked up in your room, aren’t you? I keep pointing out the places where there are light, the places where you’ve misunderstood the chains, the shadows, and the echoes -not even as an invitation to leave, but from a point of your misunderstanding my own experiences. And yet, there you sit: repeating what you’ve said despite my trying to clarify. I promise: I’m not chasing a mystery. I don’t believe there are forever-unknowns. I most certainly do not claim, “Hallelujah!” and, “Praise Jesus” during televangelist sermons; I may converse more like Matthew Broderick in “Ladyhawke.”

        The entire point is that there is more. It’s much better than the point I’ve been before, and *that* point is the one you’re squatting at. So; I really don’t mind your squatting or your frankly discussing points; I *do* seek less repetition when I’ve already explained how I don’t think a certain way that you claim I do.

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      12. Well, OK. Fair enough. I can be a little repetitious. Sorry.
        I confess that I didn’t catch ‘Ladyhawke’, so I certainly remain in the dark there, but I DO actually see light, and the direction I look when finding it may be very similar to the one in which you look. The difference for me is that I don’t put a name to it. I try to understand it, but do so with the acceptance that I never will have a full understanding, and I’m comfortable with that.
        I think I was fairly confident, though, that you weren’t the ‘praise Jesus of the television’ type – but am glad to have it confirmed!

        Liked by 1 person

      13. Thank you for clarifying on all those points. I’m happy to hear we are at a similar place and can stop quibbling over the ultimate pointlessness (or, to an optimist, the ultimate point) of existence. 😀

        Like

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