Possibly not feeling fine
Could have been me
In that locked ward
Maybe not of my own accord.
The gap between
Normal and mad
Is wafer thin
As narrow as that
Needle they stick in.
I would say but for
The grace of god go I
But I find all that religion
Pie in the sky.
It’s no coincidence if you
Go to Denmark Hill
The Maudsley mental subdued on pills
Bars on the windows
As they go up the wall
Screaming ‘Jesus loves you!’
Well that’s your call.
I may have nonsense in my head
But I’m not the zombie living dead.
The only thing in common
Is that we write
Only difference is
You’re locked up
Day and night.
I’m a lucky boy
In that I’m only
‘D’ list crazy
Though much of what I’ve done
Is somewhat hazy.
It could have been me
Under lock and key
With a bit of bad luck
And an insanity plea.
Truth is I’m not crazy or bad
Not sure if that should make me glad.
Normality means schtum in your head
Where negative thoughts are better not said.
Poetry’s the safety valve
Where I let off steam
Where my thoughts become real
Instead of a bad dream.
Reading them out is
Life’s ‘bonus ball’
Sharing at ‘open mic’
Feeling ten feet tall.
Not sure if my stuff is any good
But the fact you’re laughing
Means it possibly could.
I might be as scared as hell
As well as frightened shitless
But the fact you clap and smile
Means I’m not totally witless.
Dulwich Poet 19th August 2013
( Over this weekend I have read poems out at two ‘open mic’ events. The one yesterdays was in the grounds of a closed down mental hospital. This poem is based on that experience)
No comments:
Post a Comment