In a house so big its very easy to regret all the good things about life and its gig. I am getting quite a few flashbacks about my collection of cowboys and Indians. I remember they were always ready to embark on any adventure towards an imaginary city called Meridian. But things got stopped in their tracks, and by the look of it to where they were they ain't coming back. Life has taken a big whack and has earth quaked the existence shack. I can feel it as I notice I can only manage to see it from aback. I guess it's pretty difficult to accept I am temporary no longer part of the pack.
The Struggle
In a house so big you could almost dream of having a pet pig. But then again, I gradually realise there is actually nothing eccentric or sexy about wearing a wig. Though I would like to choose one that is pink, I suppose that will probably make people think. There are days I wish I would be able to forget the struggle, sometimes I wonder if it would not just be easier to hit the bottle. Acceptance, repentance so many words without romance, a dialectic full of meanings so cryptic to describe the simple fact that I am very sick
The Battle
The house is too big and I sometimes find difficult to keep the emotional boat afloat. I am getting very fragile and yet the attacks are getting ever so vile. I am no longer an apache yet there are days I imagine I still possess the ultimate panache. Alas its obvious to everybody that I am melting faster than a chocolate ganache. I am getting by like the shadow of the day doing my best not to throw away the tiny hopes in the nearest ashtray. While hope is elusive, despair is invasive and I wont even mention how unsensitive the clerk was when he asked if my health package was all inclusive. I guess the payments are palliative.
Hope As A Ritual
I would love to but I understand I wont be able to stay in the house so big. Out of fear I sometimes pretend I dance the life jive and give myself an encouraging high five. I have seen him a few times already, wrapped in a dark long coat and always staring at me. The shiny life span hopper is relishing at the thought of switching off the life operator. In reaction to his apparition I attempt to dig deep inside of me and hope for a new life, but like a fierce banker my cells tell me there is no cash left in the dispenser. And if that was not it, in order to put me at ease, well intentioned family members firmly recommend there will probably be no need to renew the lease.
The Defeat
In a house so big it's difficult to accept there has been an intense disease blitzkrieg. I must admit that the defeat has taken its toll, its not nearly as crazy as a depraved fan of rock and roll. Yet you got to know that the winner will take it all including the rawest part of your soul. In those moments I would love to fantasize I could turn to alcohol to treat my head. It would help to make me lie in bed. I could almost pretend that my feelings and anxiety med wont shaft me in zone known as code red. Realistically I am aware I am slowly becoming a ghost, not one of those who has reached the big holy city but one of those who is stationed in an advanced post. It would be almost exotic and epic if it was not so tragic.
The New Normal
I don't even know if I am still in the house so big. I sometimes hear voices made by music than only I can hear lyrics. The new routine is abnormal and its itinerary is disturbingly abysmal. Always this haunted hollow that I can't do nothing against but follow. It would be pure sorrow if I was not distributing buckets full of plastic hellos. Who are they ? Who is this unknown crowd so shallow? I hope he wont be too hurt. I am talking about my cat Kurt.
Epilogue
There is no masquerade when you take part in the final parade. I wonder how you practise a smile with a scale jaw bone when you're meant to spend the rest of your existence alone. The advantage could be that you no longer have to put a joyful facial on. Personally I will be able to stop saying soldiering on. I don't like moaning but Its aching when your love lies crying, when your love's last dying. I have heard so many disturbing lies about resting in peace, will it be cold and should I wear a fleece?
I don't like the scare in your eyes, it always augurs the apparition of dark skies. That said I have far more urgent matter to figure.
I was wondering, with all that new found freedom. Would one not die of boredom ?
Sources
People & Stuff
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Written Material Copyright 2018 - Pascal Derrien -
ah thanks Phil Friedman I know you don't give free passes so that 's a compliment and half I will gladly accept :-) Just a few words put together … :-)
Pascal, your writing has evolved in ways and to heights to which few if any if us can aspire. You know I am not wont to write trivial praise, so, for what it is worth, know that I am A fan of yours and pleased for the opportunity to watch the development of a true artist. Cheers!
#27 ah Devesh \ud83d\udc1d Bhatt good to see you dropping by. I cannot unfortunately help you resolving your question but deep down I am sure you know where to find the answer .... :-)
Amazing. i read this and i forget about life and it's gig and observe this big empty house i am in. Then i am not sure if i am here and i hear "Us and Them" in my head. I am thinking i have been influenced too much by what i love, including your writing. what should i do now?
#23 I searched for the definition of urban poetry. Such poetry, in short, focuses on themes of social injustice, stress, struggles and survival. So I think your poem/prose could fit into this category. What I know for sure is that no one would die of boredom reading your stories. On the contrary, many times they made me think about life issues long after finishing reading.
#21 thanks Lada \ud83c\udfe1 Prkic yeah I am not sure what type of writing it is somebody told me the other day it was urban poetry , whatever this does mean? :-) Its imperfect and unbalanced at times, I think people can decide what they want to read in it I have somewhat a story line in me but if those who read it take it somewhere else in terms of experience and meanings its absolutely fine by me. I can't and should not be prescriptive in the end its only a bunch of words put together it will not blow away the fundamentals of literature :-)
#20 wow CityVP \ud83d\udc1d Manjit...… I am a bit speechless there..... as you know I am no artist or writer while I would not deny the intent and manifestation of an artistic fibre (just directionally speaking not status wise) :-) its just my way to render long life observations, people can read them the way they want sometimes only the way they can..... I guess there are probably different levels of approaches and it does resonate differently according to one's sensitivity. Once its out there I have no control over people love it , hate it or ignore it , c'est la vie :-)
It's always hard to say what actually does the poet want to say through writing. Pascal, your post is, firstly, a poem in rhyme written in prose. :-) I enjoyed listening to music both in your words and the song.
You make my "black" a wonderful darker hue of black and no matter how deep this buzz goes, it is very insightful to jump into this sea of honesty and emotions that some are way too tender or sensitive as breakable glass to even contemplate or consider There are some who can't see anything else and wonder what is the point of it all (and to them I am not going to stop them killing themselves - there are some choices which is our own shit to handle and the best way to save someone is to let them discover if they maybe are not being who they are). So it is we do need a certain resilience to be able to accommodate and then appreciate these thoughts. The actual person who kills themselves does not see that the thoughts expressed here are the most authentic when it comes to recognizing that life is a mixture of the good stuff and the stuff we didn't think we could handle. This buzz here then is not an account of depression or despair or a heavy duty mindfuck, it is a buzz of an artist. This is an artist i see here painting a picture that ends up producing what art does best, which is to make the reader think. If the reader cannot draw from it life-giving insights, then the reader is not engaged in the art here, they are simply swigging a drink from a bottle called pain. I appreciate the artist in you because this buzz also makes me appreciate the human in you. These are your words and thoughts and likewise I honour them.
You make my "black" a wonderful darker hue of black and no matter how deep this buzz goes, it is very insightful to jump into this sea of honesty and emotions that some are way to tender to even contemplate, some who can't see anything else and wonder what is the point of it all (and to them I am not going to stop them killing themselves - there are some choices which is our own shit to handle and the best way to save someone is to let them know they maybe not being who they are). So it is we do need a certain resilience to be able to accommodate and then appreciate these thoughts. The actual person who kills themselves does not see that the thoughts expressed here are the most authentic when it comes to recognizing that life is a mixture of the good stuff and the stuff we didn't think we could handle. This buzz here then is not an account of depression or despair or a heavy duty mindfuck, it is a buzz of an artist. This is an artist i see here painting a picture that ends up producing what art does best, which is to make the reader think. If the reader cannot draw from it life-giving insights, then the reader is not engaged in the art here, they are simply swigging a drink from a bottle called pain. I appreciate the artist in you because this buzz also makes me appreciate the human in you. These are your words and thoughts and likewise I honour them.
Battles are the building blocks of life's intersecting pathways. There are no losers when each challenge is fed by optimism and we stop every so often to smell the roses, for the only normality is change. As for being alone, solitude offers us a celebration of selfish pampering, for loneliness is only experienced by those who take refuge in big houses and who leave the book of decisions gathering dust on the shelf.
Pascal Derrien Light and dark, serious and humorous, introspective and retrospective – as you do Pascal a very original piece of writing. Definitely one of my top five favorites coming from your pen. Strange in the context but I really enjoyed this read!
#10 detritus is actually a very powerful word indeed and I fully agree. It has nothing to do with morbid thoughts or the dark side it has everything to do with a mere attempt at exploring less conventional stuff no matter how uncomfortable it may be that's the difference between us and plastic doll :-) Thanks for reading kim wheeler :-)
#8 thanks well I suppose tackling the topic frontally does not make it any less scarier I would not say you become familiar with it that would be peculiar but it helps to understand maybe a little bit better ?
#4 I am all right Neil Smith now if you refer to my mental state I cannot confirm 😜 there is indeed some kind of twisted sense of humor distilled throughout 😀
Well! I really feel like I've climbed out of a tunnel or deep pool. Read this three times now and it's scary, funny, makes me worry about you, makes me worry about me and makes me think it's all going to be fine. Don't think I've ever seen panache, ganache and apache together ever before. Thanks and now to go again.
#2 I believe within the storyline i lifted the thought, but who knows these days. I sense i am a cat with a long tail in a rocking chair store. There seems to be an anchor missing these days. That "thing" we held on to that secured safe passage through generations. But yet without the anchor there is some clarity, but i am not sure the outcome will be the same. More importantly i am being asked to choose a side. I am clear on both sides but not really understanding what is expected in outcome from either. So i ride my stick pony around and pretend that days gone by are coming back and i merely wait. My stick pony doesnt require that i answer any questions or choose any side, but just ride:)
#1 thanks Harvey Lloyd for simply putting a few words down, I appreciate its heavy stuff and I am unsure it actually makes sense. I was thinking about the drifting of vibes to a confused state where things are actually becoming clearer if you see what I mean ?
I struggle with these deep thoughts as i consider, is the space changing or i am changing? But when i ask the question it sounds foolish as i age out of my past. Maybe it's a little of both, but the results are the same. I am nowhere that i can recognise.
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Comments
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #30
Me too :-)
Lyon Brave
5 years ago #29
Devesh 🐝 Bhatt
5 years ago #28
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #27
Phil Friedman
5 years ago #26
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #25
ah Devesh \ud83d\udc1d Bhatt good to see you dropping by. I cannot unfortunately help you resolving your question but deep down I am sure you know where to find the answer .... :-)
Devesh 🐝 Bhatt
5 years ago #24
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #23
kudos for checking that one out :-) and many thanks for the kind words too :-) Lada \ud83c\udfe1 Prkic
Lada 🏡 Prkic
5 years ago #22
I searched for the definition of urban poetry. Such poetry, in short, focuses on themes of social injustice, stress, struggles and survival. So I think your poem/prose could fit into this category. What I know for sure is that no one would die of boredom reading your stories. On the contrary, many times they made me think about life issues long after finishing reading.
Neil Smith
5 years ago #21
Couldn't agree more. It's definitely not a two minute skim Franci\ud83d\udc1dEugenia Hoffman, beBee Brand Ambassador
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #20
thanks Lada \ud83c\udfe1 Prkic yeah I am not sure what type of writing it is somebody told me the other day it was urban poetry , whatever this does mean? :-) Its imperfect and unbalanced at times, I think people can decide what they want to read in it I have somewhat a story line in me but if those who read it take it somewhere else in terms of experience and meanings its absolutely fine by me. I can't and should not be prescriptive in the end its only a bunch of words put together it will not blow away the fundamentals of literature :-)
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #19
wow CityVP \ud83d\udc1d Manjit...… I am a bit speechless there..... as you know I am no artist or writer while I would not deny the intent and manifestation of an artistic fibre (just directionally speaking not status wise) :-) its just my way to render long life observations, people can read them the way they want sometimes only the way they can..... I guess there are probably different levels of approaches and it does resonate differently according to one's sensitivity. Once its out there I have no control over people love it , hate it or ignore it , c'est la vie :-)
Lada 🏡 Prkic
5 years ago #18
CityVP Manjit
5 years ago #17
CityVP Manjit
5 years ago #16
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #15
thanks Franci\ud83d\udc1dEugenia Hoffman, beBee Brand Ambassador. Hope you find your way thru the maze 🤔
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #14
thanks Ken Boddie the ever changing battle of evolution pathway is a reminder that nothing is granted even when we thought it was firmly planted 🤔
Ken Boddie
5 years ago #13
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #12
many thanks Gert Scholtz that would describe me perfectly lightly serious or seriously light 😉 appreciate the kind words
Gert Scholtz
5 years ago #11
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #10
detritus is actually a very powerful word indeed and I fully agree. It has nothing to do with morbid thoughts or the dark side it has everything to do with a mere attempt at exploring less conventional stuff no matter how uncomfortable it may be that's the difference between us and plastic doll :-) Thanks for reading kim wheeler :-)
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #9
thanks well I suppose tackling the topic frontally does not make it any less scarier I would not say you become familiar with it that would be peculiar but it helps to understand maybe a little bit better ?
🐝 Fatima G. Williams
5 years ago #8
Well, I must say reading your work makes one get a perspective on the thing we call life! Baffled by truth we are already know but choose to ignore
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #7
ah big thank you Debasish Majumder always good to see you reading my errands :-)
Debasish Majumder
5 years ago #6
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #5
I am all right Neil Smith now if you refer to my mental state I cannot confirm 😜 there is indeed some kind of twisted sense of humor distilled throughout 😀
Neil Smith
5 years ago #4
Harvey Lloyd
5 years ago #3
I believe within the storyline i lifted the thought, but who knows these days. I sense i am a cat with a long tail in a rocking chair store. There seems to be an anchor missing these days. That "thing" we held on to that secured safe passage through generations. But yet without the anchor there is some clarity, but i am not sure the outcome will be the same. More importantly i am being asked to choose a side. I am clear on both sides but not really understanding what is expected in outcome from either. So i ride my stick pony around and pretend that days gone by are coming back and i merely wait. My stick pony doesnt require that i answer any questions or choose any side, but just ride:)
Pascal Derrien
5 years ago #2
thanks Harvey Lloyd for simply putting a few words down, I appreciate its heavy stuff and I am unsure it actually makes sense. I was thinking about the drifting of vibes to a confused state where things are actually becoming clearer if you see what I mean ?
Harvey Lloyd
5 years ago #1