Emotional Maelstrom: a Poem

My tradition has been to commence most calendar years with a poëm. This year I was working on a new creätion, but it has been much delayed due to my ill-health. My significant-other and I mutually agreed to end our affinity at the beginning of August last year (2024). I was heartbroken. However, as these matters do, with time, my emotions gradually stabilised. My last full day of weeping was in November. I have shed the odd tear since. Nevertheless, for the most part, I have overcome the loss. I shall always hold my friend dear in my heart, as I do all my past friends & lovers; but I am no longer in love.

In the process of recovery, there was a period of transition in which I was never quite certain of what my emotions would throw at me on any given day or indeed time. I would have a few days of believing I was healed and then I would be hit my a fresh tsunami of thoughts, feelings & sensations coming at me from all directions and slamming down on me. It is this transitional period I have attempted to recreäte in poëtic form below.

*

Emotional Maelstrom

how do I deal with this

emotional maelstrom

events feel incongruous

but what can be done

you will not open up

it’s not your custom

ardour

stirring emotion

a strong attraction

lamentably

the wrong attachment

in this see-saw

push-me-pull-me

affinity

fervid passion

initially

mutual sexual desire

lust

I must

have your body

“Hug me!”

you say

tho’ the oxymoron

“Don’t touch me!”

quite the conundrum

“Love me!”

you pray

you embrace me

post-coitus

then leave me

slinking away

shrinking

as your penile serpent

returning

to its iridescent

nest

just

like the viper

you repudiate

my validity

flecks of ice

stab my heart.

tingling

dismay

with excitement

my stomach churning

my forehead burning

thoughts & feelings

pulling me apart

tugging

one way

then another

hither

and thither

how do I start

to extricate

from the Gordian Knot

toss then ignore

the dice

or vindicate

accept my lot

this absurd

lovers’ paradox

*

I Keep Feeling

[TRIGGER WARNING: this post deals with child-abuse and references suicide and blood!]

I have hinted at my childhood issues in some past postings.

Of late I have been much affected and effected by the abuse I suffered at the hands of both parents, not only in childhood, but through my adolescence, my young adulthood and to a lesser extent into my mid-adulthood. Eventually, in my mid-thirties, my psychiatrist, my psychologist and my G.P. (family doctor) strongly advised me to completely separate myself from them. I followed their advice and did so. Since then they have divorced and moved to different places, but I do not know exactly their whereabouts - and I want to keep it that way.

Over the years various good friends have suggested I sue my parents or lodge complaints with the police. Unfortunately, such proceedings would mean I should have to relive the horrors over and over again to the police, to lawyers and before the Courts. That, for me, is too large a price to pay for Justice. I prefer to direct my energies and efforts into healing as best I can and living my life the way I want to live it.

I know from my paternal Grandmother that my paternal Grandfather was brutal in his treatment of my Father. I know from my Aunts that my maternal Grandfather was abusive towards my Mother & her siblings. This may explain the abuse my parents meted out: it does NOT justify nor vindicate their behaviours one iota.

Several times prior to the split from my abusers, I attempted suicide; but since then I have not even contemplated same - other than for end-of-life and living-will purposes. I have become, at least partially, the happy and confident chap I should have been all along.

I am publishing the poem below and this brief preamble, not to garner sympathy, but rather with the aspiration that someone may find it useful to know that life does get better, that there is always Hope.

*

after so many years

       of mental justification

       of emotional turmoil

       of spiritual malaise

       of medication

              I stopped taking them

       at fifty-three

expecting liberation

scary initially

honestly

       I am still scared

so much anxiety

too many feels

       maybe

but good

       has the upper-hand

              I am certain

I feel music again

my bodily pleasures

       returned

re-awakened creativity

slumbering sexuality

       re-asserted

though no princely kiss yet

I feel me again

I keep smiling

I keep crying

I keep feeling

       impotent

       despondent

frankly

       I am still scarred

I keep sensing

       that putrescent

              touch

       veining my soul

my heart turned

       to cold

              stone

I keep smelling

       your odious stench

       polluting all memory

I used to feel nothing

       for you

              who made no effort

                     to atone

but you keep popping up

an unsolicited smear

never sufficient

       bruises nor blood

never enough torment

       torture

       fear

abused childhood

abused adolescence

abused adulthood

equilibrium tired

hope expired

       turned to a putative hate

mostly

       I just want the thoughts

              of you

              of your actions

              your nefandous deeds

                     to go away

                     to stay at bay

I keep feeling

       exhausted

       drained

longing for Fate

       to resolve

              your evil

for it has cleaved

       my soul

       my psyche

no salve

no surgery

       can heal

              the scars of cruelty

but I soldier on

       like a good boy

and I keep feeling

       never joy

       but contentment

certainly

       in your absence

              I have grown

                     in confidence

                     in maturity

                     in sagacity

I feel…

       well…

              half-alive

                     maybe

paradoxically

       I keep feeling

              worthy

                     of Love

                     of Life

almost

       happy

but still

       as ever

              that small boy

                     eternally

                            lost

I cannot stop

       now

I just have to

       keep feeling

              the pain

desperate to attain

       calmness

       cleansing

       healing

       release

I keep feeling