my head

is a time bomb ticking
me off, scoff
-ing at all things
sacred and sane.

it’s a pulsing vein
screaming, a too-bright
sun, the shunning
of one or more
normal days.

my head
is a drum un
-strung but beating,
bleating a song no one
wants to hear.

it’s a poem un
-written, a family un
-hugged, another
day wasted, hung
in fear.

my head
is a siren, a murmur,
a rant, a moan that
I can
not silence.

it’s a viole(n)t
wind, an unquiet
storm, a tempest
spinning useless
things.

my head
is low, too far below;
for when you hold
your heart up high,
…………..it s(t)ings.

 

 

 

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to my head

  1. Lacy J says:

    You poor thing.

    I LOVE the opening. And “my head is a drummin’.” 🙂 I do love a violent wind, dear. See you in three days.

  2. Ugh. I feel your pain — but your poetry still sings, despite the tempest. Feel better, mermaid. ❤

  3. Shawna says:

    “shunning
    of one or more
    normal days”

    I’m guess it’s one of those three-packs we hate so much. 😦

    Miss you. Sending you get-better vibes, prayers, and _____ (cherries?chalk?quit?ro{u}om?).

  4. Before I read the comments I was going to guess migraine as well. So sorry for you. But yes, – you’ve described it quite well here.

  5. Stop! You’re bringing on my vertigo. Just kidding, great poem, De.

Use your words.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.