Reeds in the sand

Wind blows the tough grasses that hold onto their sand dunes, waving gently to the vast ocean behind which could swallow them soon.

But still they cling, binding sand and forming land.

For me to stand on top and wonder if it was a temporary error of memory or a black op.

D January 2019

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The moderate

I’m the extremist when I want to be the moderate, before I fall for the benign.

I’m the speed of a jet fighter before the sports car, slowed down till I’m cycling on the line.

I am the dead shot in the heart, before the miss of the shoulder, till I fail to load my quiver.

I’m the raging alcoholic where 100 is never enough, 1s to many and none donates a healthy liver.

I’m the trip head lost in a psychedelic dream, the one who will never try that again, before I fall for reality.

I’m the hesitation marks on my arm, before the thought that pain would numb it all, till I fall to the crying in the corner with dark voices in my head who threatened such fatality.

I ride up, I ride down, I’m the moderate that rides around.

D December 2018

Walk

I have to walk the talk, but when I get there my lips remain shut.

Who am I to shatter the ambivalent nature of my rut.

In densely packed woods I can let out a quiet sigh, just maybe this once I have outrun the spies.

The mud here is perfect for a shallow grave, if they come, but just watching the flailing of my mind is good enough for some.

I put my head against the tree, old oak, older than me. This how I know you don’t need eyes to see.

And in the distance the bark of a dog … I have to walk the talk … Just to lose myself and drive myself out of town with a pitch fork.

D November 2018

Small Wins

So I went swimming today and managed a few lengths, despite my AS killing me in the shoulder and spine and the fact there were other people in the pool. It’s not that I don’t like people it’s just there random and unpredictable. I love good company but go into meltdown whenever I’m near to many. Ironically I used to be a party person surrounded by dancing nutters to loud drum and bass.

How things change.

Anyway if I make it again to the pool I might actually qualify as someone who swims! My god a hobby that isn’t based on technology.

Oh and the pool shower has turned my hair into a cloud again, maybe I should also practice at man who gets his haircut.

Peace

D

Time to Ride….

So all things must come to pass. As I approach a stable period of my bipolar I’ve decided to set up another blog and discuss there the things that bipolar doesn’t define about me. I may mention it in passing but I have a huge amount to say about other things other than bipolar.

No doubt, I’ll have my ups and downs so I’ll occasionally put my Poetry here but even that I’m taking mostly back into the personal realm as I’m preparing a poetry submission for Faber & Faber and some other publishers.

The new blog is simply for my thoughts on the world from my closet corner of England.

So those still with me here’s the link;

Last Human Standing

Peace

D

Accept

I need proof of my existence like I need a bullet to the head.

For all I know this is all a dream and the whole world is already dead.

I’ll float in this spiral of empty essence, spinning in infinity,

There’s no book in the world to prove my heritage and divinity.

How the hell are you ever going to understand my insanity?

When you don’t even accept yours….

D September 2018

Dave (and Other Girls); Work continues.

So as I focus myself on my writing I’ve reread the first 5 chapters I have of ‘Dave’, it’s characters, scenes and plots and feel the slow creep of inspiration. So many ways this could go.

I posted the first chapter on my blog months ago, link below if ur interested. The chapter I’m currently dealing with deals with an attempted suicide by one of the crew, a dark place I know about but never crossed. I think it’s good to get these ideas out of me, for me it’s not profiteering from misery but a cleansing process that normalises a deep dark set of emotional trauma for me. Will I include that chapter in the finished article… Well let’s see if I finish it first.

Peace D

https://bipolarbycola.blog/2018/04/30/dave-and-other-girls/

Bullet Bipolar Tales

I’m the shell shocked lover with a bullet ridden mind,

A labyrinthine tale of woe and highs you’ll ever find.

Don’t hold me tight in the night I may just explode,

Or fall to pieces slowly over the years I reaped then sowed.

So I don’t know if you can hear over this plane crash,

Maybe you shouldn’t hang around while I burn and flash.

I could say I love you but I’m not sure which voice said it,

I feel it coming again but you and me baby are a tight fit, will we split… Or fight these mindless demons and stick!

D August 2018