Today’s poetry form: Free Verse
* Free verse poems have no regular meter and rhythm.
* They do not follow a proper rhyme scheme as such; these poems do not have any set rules.
* This type of poem is based on normal pauses and natural rhythmical phrases as compared to the artificial constraints of normal poetry.
* It is also called vers libre which is a French word.
I often write free verse at 3 am mid-REM. This is one of those brain-flushing poems, particularly poignant for me. Free form is my raw unfettered side with no boundaries to keep me from spilling out. Its form title, “FREE Verse” echoes the soul of this particular piece. Both of my parents suffered from severe, undiagnosed, untreated mental illness. Each eventually ended their own life to silence the madness. I have chosen life. The lunacy stops with me. I am free.
Childhood Crazy
He was obsidian in a naugahyde recliner,
a red hot cigarette tip, heavy with ash, suspended in the blank space between us,
Inconsolable shell of burdensome flesh smoldering in silence,
clock ticking, refrigerator humming, faucet dripping,
Sepia Jesus scowling from the frame on the wall.
He was white deafening noise.
A dizzy streak of laser precision, constructing pyramids of tin,
preoccupied with aliens, reincarnation and escape plans,
dismantling, rebuilding, obsessing over the unfitted, left-over parts,
ever seeking the subtle smiling approval of happy, golden-haloed Jesus.
Terrifying and thrilling, monster and superhero,
doomsdayer, naysayer, cheerleader, dragonslayer,
fragile broken parent figure, angel, demon, candle burning at both ends.
A short-fused powder keg, self-combusting,
disillusioned by fickle wishy-washy Jesus, pulling a trigger to end the pain.
His poison festers in my cells, lethal shards of DNA,
catching waves of white and crimson coursing through my veins, settling in my brain.
A childhood refrain of mania to gloom, neglected, undiagnosed crazy.
Daddy, if we had only known, we might have saved you.
Consoled with pharmaceuticals, severing the chain…at least I can save myself.
kat ~ 2 April 2016
April 2nd, 2016 at 7:19 am
This is so very sad but so powerful! I am so sorry, Kat. I think my dad may have had mental illness too but he drowned his in alcohol.
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:22 am
Mental illness was a taboo subject years ago. My dad drank too. Self medicating we call it. So many needlessly suffered because mental illness was called a weakness. 😕
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:28 am
Oh yes, it absolutely was taboo. People wouldn’t go to the doctor about mental problems, instead they found ways to deal with them themselves, like alcohol.
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:21 am
Powerful, sad, reality — so sorry that was your childhood. I’m glad you are saving yourself!
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:23 am
Thank you. Years of therapy and regular doses of “happy pills” have kept me above water. 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:32 am
I have an anxiety disorder and take meds and I’m quite sure my mom had it, too, though she wouldn’t admit it. Our lives would all have been different if she’d gotten treatment. Finally about the last 4 years of her life we got her meds and it was so good, but also sad, to think she could have been like that her whole life
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:37 am
It is so sad to think our family members suffered so. I’m glad for you that you were able to see at least 4 years of your mother’s true self. Thank goodness society is changing. 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 7:40 am
Oh, yes, it’s been such a stigma but I talk about my GAD all the time cause it’s just one part of me, it doesn’t define me…
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April 2nd, 2016 at 8:05 am
Absolutely! 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 5:59 pm
I am so very sorry for your parent’s tragic lives. But I am very glad you are FREE. 🙂
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April 2nd, 2016 at 6:02 pm
Thank you! Yes it does not define me! 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 8:29 pm
I’m very glad that you are free! No, our parents don’t define us…but it definitely helps to know what they have blessed / cursed us with, too.
Very poignant post…excellent.
🙂
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April 2nd, 2016 at 9:42 pm
Thank you so much! As I mentioned in another comment lots of therapy and maintenance. 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 8:30 pm
Also, I wanted to nominate you for a blogging award – but if you’re “award-free,” you may disregard it!
😎
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April 2nd, 2016 at 9:38 pm
Thank you. I don’t post but appreciate the thought. 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 10:41 pm
This is your 3 a.m. REM-ing?? Wow! How powerful…I was grabbed from the first line, Kat! You might have been describing my dad…his end was different…but the description…very much alike! I know you posted his picture, but even if you hadn’t, your poem gave me such a strong and immediate picture of your dad in my mind’s eye..that’s the sign of a great writer…imagery that paints an immediate picture in the mind of the reader…totally impressed! Amazing! Katie.
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April 2nd, 2016 at 10:43 pm
Thank you so much! I’m living a dream here. The fact that people actually read my words is the cherry on top! 😊
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April 2nd, 2016 at 11:35 pm
[…] 7. Like Mercury Colliding […]
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April 4th, 2016 at 9:49 am
This is so sad and so very powerful dear Kat!!!
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April 4th, 2016 at 11:23 am
thank you Lynn…one of those late night/early morning surges.
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April 4th, 2016 at 11:26 am
Can I ask what he dealt with? I have OCD so just curious
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April 4th, 2016 at 12:52 pm
I think he had manic depression Lynn, though we will never be sure since he was undiagnosed. He was also an alcoholic…and perhaps a bit schizophrenic. I have chronic depression. But I am treated and life is good. 🙂
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April 4th, 2016 at 3:07 pm
I am so glad Kat! That is sad!
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April 4th, 2016 at 10:02 pm
When I lived it, i didn’t realize it was not normal…it was my normal. Eventually I realized the truth. It’s all good now though. Healing. 😊
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April 4th, 2016 at 10:31 pm
I am so glad
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April 4th, 2016 at 8:08 pm
Just… No words.
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April 4th, 2016 at 8:19 pm
Thank you so very much…
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April 4th, 2016 at 8:47 pm
You’re welcome.
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