The Examination of time and its many modes!

I’ve written a long poem about my experience of PTSD. I can’t get it published. The number of rejections are ridiculous. Today on socialmedia a posting snapped me back into that anger again. Nearly forty years of work with hugely damaged and damaging individuals left its own damage that I have had to deal with. I was lucky to get access to a very sensitive and sensible psychiatrist and psycholgist that brought me out of a very dark time in my life. So I am publishing the second verse of a long poem “The examination of time and its many modes” which I have avoided performing but feel that I have to do this now to complete a journey.

 

Time redefined

 

And now?

Am I marooned here?

You told me to go

go go go go go

when you decided

that it was done

that you were done

with me.

But I have been left here

somehow

then now

now then.

Time stands still

for some things.

Trapped in this silence

now and then.

A fracturing of time.

Fractured?

Torn?

Shredded?

Ripped?

Sheered?

I struggle

for words.

It’s not true

that time heals

it simply

loses pain.

I am like a bell

that has not chimed true

for so long.

But I am not silent

only in quietness

will you hear

the deep vibration

of my calm.

I can’t make

up for lost time.

Making up

for lost time?

What time?

Who’s time?

A clock

Clocka

Clagan

Or Clocc.

A silent

Instrument

Missing a bell

Is called

A Time piece.

I clock you.

You you you you

You. And you!

I refuse to be

Defined by you

By what you, you, you,

You. And you

Did to me.

I am the man

The man I am

But what you did doesn’t

Define me.

You will not

Define me.

My anger

About what you did

You you you

You. And you.

Does not define

Me and my life.

It is you see

Only a small

Part of what I call me.

A small part

Of who I am

Now.

This is my time

My space

And I decide.

 

©Rob Cullen

 

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