By
LIAM WHETSTONE
(Seventh Poetry Collection, Written February-April 2014)
©2014 LIAM WHETSTONE All rights reserved
This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception
And to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of
Liam Whetstone.
Index
Author’s Introduction
Dedication
The Prologue
Going Through the Motions
An inevitable Fatality
A Journey through Dense Mists
A Fragile Sculpture
Unforgivable Assumptions
Stone and Water
Cataclysmic Collisions
Clear Visions as Wounds
A list of Enemies
A Corpse in Ice
Two Categories
Re-Evaluation
Building Bridges
Stone Pillars
The Next Stage
The Sanatorium
The Rant of a Killjoy
Answering Accusations
The Greatest Fear
Rummaging Through the Rubbish
Ulterior Motives
Hazy Hyper Reality
A Very Useful Technique
Shrinking Horizons
Static Psychosis
Confessions of a Stubborn Coward
At the Foot of the Mountain
My Mantra
The Epilogue
Authors Introduction
This seventh collection written between is my most personal to date, previously my collections have covered a range of topics providing comprehensive reflections of my thoughts and opinions at the time the poems were written.
Dedication
These poems were written during February 2014 – April 2014 and are dedicated to those readers who are kind enough to consider and to understand the feelings and emotions I have expressed in them.
Liam Whetstone (April 2014)
(Everyone is much more simply human than otherwise)
Harry Stack Sullivan, The Interpersonal Theory of Psychiatry
The Prologue
Hello boredom my old friend
Hello truth my best friend
If it’s not raining outside
The lights are definitely on
But the encompassing darkness remains
Piecing everything together is
Confusing and sometimes destructive
Wastelands in the past
Desolation in the future
(Finishes coffee, turns light of tries to
Go back to sleep)
Going Through the Motions
Twenty four hours in a day
Sunrise always follows sunset
Following a routine of meals
Following a pattern of sleep
Following a pattern of work
Undertaking these rituals in a trance
Emotionally intoxicated by reason
Completing another robotic day
Just the identical to the previous one
Drawing the curtains
Turning of the light
Getting into bed once more
To prepare for tomorrows
Repeat of today.
(The wit of man has rarely been more exercised than in the attempt to classify the morbid mental phenomena covered by the term insanity. The result has been disappointing) Daniel Hack Tuke
An inevitable Fatality
I know my thinking has been just
I know all my opinions are fair
I know some have misunderstood me
I know some think me un-diplomatic
I know some think me insensitive
Some may accuse me of being pretentious and even bombastic
Or heaven forbid and attention seeker
I have always been genuine
My meanings either
Go over people’s heads
Or are misinterpreted completely
Or to some sensitive souls my views
Might seem a little strong
Even offensive
Many thanks to those who “get” me
A Journey through Dense Mists
In these thick mists
There are no corners
There are no paved roads
Concealed in the dense fog
Dwell many dangers and threats
Waiting patiently
To stab you in the back
Hidden daemons waiting to admonish you
For not being like them
Confronting you for not conforming
To put you on trial for being you
You harbor a deep longing
That fog will clear
But such a wish is in vain
A Fragile Sculpture
There it stands on its own
A lonely image of isolation
It has stood there
For time uncounted
It was created out of love and affection
But now its surface is cracked
Dusty and worn out
The cold-hearted weather
Of humanity has damaged it
Beyond repair
It has endured countless assaults
From those with hearts of ice
It yearns to decay
Crumble into dust
To be swept away by the wind.
Unforgivable Assumptions
So I hear you say
That which is different
Is a problem
You assume without question
To behave differently from
The “herd”
Is somehow wrong
That someone who has
A contrasting “way of being”
To you needs to be
Singled out as inferior
As some sort of alien
And placed in a box
Such an offense
Can never be forgiven
Worse still is to condemn
That which you have not
Even the slightest notion of
Stone and Water
This is how it is
Make the best of it
Don’t let it bother you
You’re too intense
You’re not moaning again
Are you?
Don’t worry
Everything is set in stone
No point trying to smash it
No point trying to melt it
No point trying to reshape it
Everything is not set in stone
Just because something is
Does not mean it should remain
Stone cannot be melted or reshaped
Or so you say
But life is water not stone.
Cataclysmic Collisions
The very thing I call fact
Does have its destructive side
In some cases
Absolute truth is inconsiderate
But fact is fact
Sometimes these
Facts collide with
Sensitive trigger nerves
Therefore, sometimes it is
Better to consider
The feelings of others
Consider whom
You are speaking to
Before rashly ignoring sensitivity
Particularly when these facts
Come in the form of
Blanket statements
Even though a spade is a spade
It is too easy to run into
Emotional blind spots.
Clear Visions as Wounds
With open eyes we see
That which disturbs us
With open eyes we see
That which upsets us
With open eyes we see
That which distresses us
With open eyes we see
Wounding visions.
These wounds are the deepest
Psychological wounds are more severe
Than physical ones
The visions are so clear
That they cut deeper than any blade
These wounding visions
Leave there lasting scars
With closed eyes we are
Shielded from these
Unnerving visions.
A list of Enemies
Only one name on this list
But it is listed many times
For many different reasons
For many different offences
For many different mistakes
For many different unforced errors
So it is indeed a long list
It is clear that
I know my enemy
A Corpse in Ice
The skin has rotten away
The flesh has dissolved
All that remains is for
The lifeless frozen bones
Encased in the ice
To dissolve and rot away.
As if it never existed
Two Categories
Those who mock my ideas
Those who mock my words
Those who mock my opinions
Those who mock my intensity
Those who dismiss my complex
Way of thinking as insanity
Fit into the category of stupid
Those who accuse me
Of attention seeking
Those who say
“I don’t want to hear, your rubbish, it’s boring.”
Fit into a far more sinister category
In other words
Those who do not like me
Are insignificant and pathetic.
The mocking comes from my direction.
Re-Evaluation
Is my reasoning logical?
Are my viewpoints reasonable?
Is what I am doing productive?
Have I wasted several opportunities?
What needs to be cut out?
What new things need to be brought in?
Do I need a new approach?
Do I need a new pair of eyes?
Or just a new pair of spectacles?
Building Bridges
Only a river separates us
One person one on bank
One person on the other
One decides to build a bridge
Crosses it and offers
His hand in a gesture of friendship
But in return is offered a
Cruel ultimatum
Agree with all my opinions or
Be pushed into the river to drown
Stone Pillars
That which is good
That which is fair
That which is ethical
That which is empathetic
These four pillars should
Remain undamaged for eternity
These for pillars should be tended to
That which is selfish
That which is greedy
That which is elitist
That which is tribal
These four pillars should be
Demolished without compromise
The Next Stage
For millions of years
Masses of humans
Have behaved in a certain way
With their conversation rules
With there restrained speech
With their self –censorship
At some point in time
A new type of human was bound
To emerge,
A type of human with no
Conversation rules or self-censorship
Or verbal restraint
The next Stage of
Human evolution.
The Sanatorium
In times of stress
In times of anxiety
I retreat to a safe place
A place of comfort
A place of security
A place that no evil can enter
A place that protects me
From the destructive daily
Agony of the outside world
The Rant of a Killjoy
Everything is not OK
Everything is not positive
Everything is not perfect
Everything is not beyond questioning
You cannot ignore the truth
Simply because you find it negative
You cannot accept a lie
Simply because it is positive
If something is wrong
It must be sorted out
If there is injustice
It must be dealt with
Tragic news told with a smile
Is still tragic news
A disaster is a disaster
A spade is a spade
Anyway I will shut up now
Let you get back to your newspaper
So you can enjoy being
Brainwashed by comforting
Propaganda.
Answering Accusations
I do not seek attention
I do not have delusions of grandeur
I do not have a superiority complex
I do not write poems
To mask my own faults
I do not make statements to shock
I simply state what I think
What do you think?
The Greatest Fear
You hold onto your own perspectives
You hold onto your “truths”
You hold onto your ignorance
You hold onto your illusions
Hide away from the obvious
It’s the comfy chair
Off the easy life, the settled mind
Protecting you from your greatest fear
This is irrational
Your resistance futile
I am pleased to inform you
That the scythe of truth
Will shatter your illusions
To free you from your ignorance.
Rummaging Through the Rubbish
In this enormous pile of filth
One will only find.
Yet more counterproductive thoughts
Yet more nonsense
Yet more fruitless acts
Yet more involuntary decisions
Yet more impulse spending
Yet more marking time
Yet more materialistic trash
Yet more mindless wasting of time on empty “pleasures”
Ulterior Motives
No one ever does something
Without a reason or a motive
If there is no motivating factor
Then there is no point to the act
Sometimes these motives are
Sinister hidden self-serving agendas
But in most cases they are not.
A doctor does not treat your illness
Simply to heal you
He does this because he gets paid
A psychologist does not “help” a patient
To cure them of a so-called mental illness
It is to make themselves seem superior to the patient at the expense of the patient.
Never trust anyone who offers “help”
Hazy Hyper Reality
If I can see it, it must be there
Or is it really there
All this could be a dream
And dreams could be the true reality
Are we really here?
Do we exist?
There are is no proof
That anything is indeed reality
There is no evidence for anything
Will I wake from sleep?
Or will I fall asleep?
A Very Useful Technique
It would be very reasonable to do this
Yes maybe it would
But reasonable for who?
Maybe you are abusing the term reasonable
To suit your own ends
Maybe you wish to exert your authority?
Why would it be reasonable for me
To heed your advice?
I fear that if I do
Your sinister plan will
Have come to fruition.
Shrinking Horizons
Like four iron walls
From the north
From the south
From the east
From the west
The view of the mind decreases
As the view of
The eyes remain comprehensive
Until the mind imprisons
Itself in the internal
Iron walled cell.
Static Psychosis
A mood of indifference prevails
Every task not only seems impossible
It is devoid of substance
Success seems identical to failure
Forever grasping at thin air
Forever trying to discover
That which is tangible
Eternally being disappointed
Eternally toiling for nothing.
Confessions of a Stubborn Coward
I know my actions seem absurd
I know I do not understand the simple
I know I do not comprehend the basic
I know I am sometimes lazy
I know I am sometimes paranoid
I know I am sometimes gluttonous
I know I am sometimes slothful
I know I sometimes waste time
I know I am sometimes impulsive
I know I am sometimes anxious without reason
At the Foot of the Mountain
Staring upwards
Straining the neck
To see the summit
Contemplating whether
To begin the ascent
The task seems impossible
The climb is begun
With a sense of
Begrudging necessity
Low confidence
But forever struggling
Out of breath
Climbing for 27 years
Only to fall back to
The base after every attempt
To once again begin the ascent.
(No longer do we seek to understand whole persons in their social contexts – rather we are there to realign our patient’s neurotransmitters. The problem is that it is very difficult to have a relationship with a neurotransmitter – whatever its configuration)
Loren Mosher, resignation letter to
The American Psychiatric Association, 1998.
My Mantra
I know this to be fact
At least I am convinced this is fact
I am unable to fit in
It is an impossible task
For me to normalize myself
It’s not that I am stupid
It’s the mere fact that
“People will never understand me”
“People will never understand me”
“People will never understand me”
“People will never understand me”………………
The Epilogue
A sense of fatigue
A sense of exhaustion
A sense of apathy
A sense of indifference
Broken sleep patterns
Decreasing levels of enthusiasm
Dark times outnumber light times
The mind in auto pilot mode
Are these the signs of imminent collapse?
Liam Whetstone 