weirdelf
weirdelf
Feb 23, 2018
This poem is part of the workshop:

Sunku: beyond rhyme and rhythm, search for new structures in short form

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Surviving (Sunku)

Humans,
so fragile,
slip bump head dead.

People,
so sturdy,
shoot stab crush live.

Cats nine,
elves endless,
I'm feline fay.

About This Poem

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Sydney, Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: The Romantics

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Comments

weirdelf

and the associated risk-taking behaviours I have honestly had more near death experiences than I remember. Some of the things I've survived from the earliest age beggar belief. The earliest I remember is at age six climbing a tall poplar till the trunk was so slim it bent over nearly horizontal under my meagre weight, hearing the cracking noise and climbing down again. Shaken and stirred.

Geezer

am Bipolar too! Or more likely one of those lucky - unlucky people that manage to survive all manner of weird shit, that I found myself in because of my naivete; [read stupidity]. Anyhow, glad that you still here. Although your first two are something that Killer would definitely like; I was rather intrigued by the last one. Nice stuff! ~ Gee.
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weirdelf

Was the meaning of that last stanza clear?

There's a lot of BPD going round, especially amongst poetic types for some reason. There is no real link between creativity and mental disorders, the higher rate amongst artists is not because mental disorders enhance or grow creativity, it's because they give us an outsiders perspective and probably also because it's hard to hold down a real job. [grins]

I'm lucky in having BPD Type2, which means my 'manic' episodes are not psychotic but my depressive periods are pretty deep. At its best I think of it as Bipolar Enhancement.

IRiz

IRiz

7 years 2 months ago

Immortal!
I agree.
Love your sunku.
It takes the best of English with its short words!
Totally and entirely enjoing your write.

On the way to ccc unit
where my friend struggles
to open her eyes
for four days in a row now,
I feel to play with death lightly
one needs a paw of a feline fay.
It is raining and she cannot see it.
The river outside of Gergetown
is grey-angry,
pedestrians on the campus
hunching their backs,
beggar kicks a trash can,
everybody is bored and complains.
But she can't be bored
I wish we all had a boring day.
I wish her mother, her husband,
her sisters and friends
had a boring day.