Perdurable Dysphoria
This blackness gives the lie to our exalted Will
Arriving from what gaping hole
No matter, no exit
Paralyzed
Engulfed in full, abyss never ending
A shade of myself, i am
Unrecognizable, worse unrecognized
Paralyzed
Not even in the worst dream, where one is covered in one’s own blood: in life we are in death
i receive such blank stares from all, as if i were transparent
Mother, Friend, Sister, Godless world
i am here, i lie
All but gone i am,
And you too
Perhaps it should be done
Yet, fate offers no assurance, therefore
Paralyzed
i think, therefore i am. . . perdurably dysphoric
Comments
Right on. I am also invisible. always have been. that’s the downfall and blessing of truth; it grabs you and never lets go. another killer poem. love, Kristin
You swell my head. Thank you, again, for your comments. I find your interpretation interesting. The intent of the poem was to express the feeling one has in the grips of severe depression. (Side note: I suffer from relatively severe bipolar disorder.) I am a strong believer, however, that once in the public realm there is a large extent to which any work bleongs to the reader, to the reader’s interpretative powers. Moreover, you reading is far from implausible and something that I had not considered, until you brought it to my attention. Thank you!
ps: This is a copy and paste of my earlier comment, before I knew how to properly comment. Just tidying up a bit.
– Rusty Gentry
Bi-polar disorder, Wow. my husband, and young son also have it. I understand, as much as one who doesn’t have it, but sees through it, can.
Getting to know one another, perhaps. How long ago was this?
– Rusty Gentry
Rusty, wow…I can relate to this personally…not because I suffer depression but several of my family and friends do. It’s dealing dirt one minute and the next minute all’s well with the world. The dark side one minute and then let in the sunlight. I admire you for making it public and writing. It’s not easy to admit but never be ashamed either which I’m sure you’re not. It takes much courage to live with it but you’re a strong person. Just keep writing…it’s your savior and therapy. Peace and happiness to you…Lisa XO
Danka, Lisa. Yes it is a pain in the ass, to say the least. Yes, writing is my savior. There is no question of “whether to,” only the necessity of my muse saying “Do!” xo, Rusty
– Rusty Gentry