A Song
 

Hammer me a blade from starlight
that cuts like a word or a look
and tell me a story of heaven
that can’t be found in a book.

I’m lost in my living
and hope you’re forgiving.
Life’s too much for me.

I’m holding the knife that you made me.
My bath is cooling down quick.
I’ve written goodbye on the mirror.
so everyone knows that I’m sick.

I’m lost in my living
and hope you’re forgiving.
It’s too much for me.

The picture of Marat in my bedroom,
the poems of Plath on the floor.
This life’s not worth a cracker
and nothing is worth much more.

I’m lost in my living
and hope you’re forgiving.
It felt too much for me.

I reach for my life and a towel.
I’ll try to go with the grain.
I know the worst is knowing
this weakness in my brain.

I’m lost in my living
and hope you’re forgiving.
I’m looking to find who’s me

Waste of time

That is the point John

This is the self indulgent poseur, the stage managed seeker of attention who is also to be pitied. N. Is so horribly shallow.

I wrote the overly ‘poetic’ first stanza to flag that.

Jan

Waste of even more time

I do not consider any serious suicide would consider Marat and Plath as triggers and as for hammering a blade from starlight….

The thing is John do not assume that you are the only one who knows of the black dog. You seem to think that there are taboos to be adhered to because things may offend. I do not ascribe to such. Victimhood in general is a sorry cloth to wear

I have known one stage managed suicide that was incredibly evil in consequence, but the rest I knew of were pleas for attention. It is valid to write of them.

I do not just judge a person ‘shallow’ unless they have shown themselves to be so and sometimes that judgment comes many years after first acquaintance. I agree however that assumptions are a dangerous and facile thing.

I just left a meeting where a woman told us her brother committed suicide last Wednesday. She was trying to get to him in Queens and was sobbing that she failed him because she had to waited for a flight here instead of driving to Charlotte or Raleigh to get a sooner flight. That’s suicide.

As I said John you assume, please note that everything in your post is about you and your life. It is subjective and that is fine but it is not valid to use it against others. A puerile ‘ot gravel to and fro is pointless. Who gives a damn what our sufferings and tribulations are they are for another venue, this is for poetry. Life is far too polarised let us try to be objective.

The black dog is current and probably predates Churchill.

I iterate this is not about a suicide but rather the menticide of those who try for attention and who occasionally inadvertently succeed. It is uncomfortable but not incorrect.

I have not defended. There is nothing to defend.

You did not hint John you laid on with a trowel. It appears we are divided by more than a common tongue.

Pace

Jan

I am ashamed of myself for getting to this point.

It is not, Churchill popularised it.

John you trotted out your goodness and Samaritan nature unasked. The implications are obvious, you suffer and are good, altruism is yours because you tell me. The corollary indicated by “Thank God” is that I am the antithesis. I am not insulted as I would have to accept that implication and I do not.

Objective please John it is worth trying for.

As I said Pace

Jan

This is the trouble John you make stupid attacking assertions then scuttle back and remove.

Your self righteous, continued, snide ad hom posts are tiring.