Welcome to Yesterday’s Poetical Reflections – a sub – series of my poetry directory in which l shall ‘reblog’ some of my previously published poetry.
|Whispering Pools, Clouded Puddles|
My home is in a long somewhat ugly metal box,
Daily l work with horses, and live with two dogs,
No point in glamorising the truth at all,
For to even attempt to do so will result in a fall,
Slowly l disappear into obscurity by choice,
Walked away from society, its’ cultures and the vogue voice,
Isolated in both my mind and also location,
Just subjected to my over thinking, a torturous predation!
Laying back on my bed, and looking up at the ceiling,
Noticing the cobwebs, whilst trying to fathom my feelings!
In the background l hear the pulsating rhythm to yet another song,
Playing on the television, its’ application on all night long,
Emotions running deep lodging themselves into my overworking brain
Complicated complexities of today, yesterday or tomorrow, always the same,
Reflections of time afore when maybe it was good,
But yet, unknowing if that itself is truth,
And words and thoughts constantly on the move,
Bouncing around endeavouring to find the groove,
In which they too might find solace,
Yet still l lay here, mentally caught in a grimace!
Asking myself, honestly what is happiness?
Have l finally acquired the truest definition of this?
Or am l too flowing along with the waters of pretence,
Just wishing that all of these thoughts and feelings would make sense,
Trying to live the simplest of philosophies,
And yet this, this is what l am left with?
The longest quests of all have l found myself on all these years,
Pointless perhaps, l have come to believe, recognising fears,
That l am still none the wiser for the answers l seek,
For questions l know not, or even have reached,
Looking back in time, my lifetime, trying to understand,
Many things, but most of all, who l am?
I have neither a wife nor a loving partner, again by choice,
Fall victim not to loneliness, yet still l know no rejoice,
A life that is starting to feel empty and consumed with nothing,
Except working with horses and endless searching,
My mind constantly spinning around in painful circles,
Understanding not whether this empty life is true happiness?
Should l be content that so few people see me this way,
For so few people do l actually see anyway every day,
My mind knows not nor understands how to relax,
But does itself injustice by constantly working on the track,
Of comprehension into my disorder,
Wandering and wondering on how exactly it can alter,
My perception further of reality,
By swallowing me deeper into the complexity,
Of allowing my life to slump into the Aspergic muddles,
And yet why, do l only think of whispering pools and clouded puddles?
© Rory Matier 2009
You will have read before that my life had consisted of a period known as The Hellbox Days from 2009 – 2012 where upon, a year after my diagnosis of Asperger’s syndrome that l was in a phase where l had to really dig deep into my psyche, my journey of discovery and rediscovery of my identity.
This piece was written in September 2009.
21st March 2021 Updater
Many people, my family included could not understand why l had to re-identify with myself? The reason was simple yet horribly complex …. l had grown up as a child, to become a teenager, a young adult and finally hit my adulthood believing that l was one person, but thinking that l was really two people and sometimes more.
My life was like that a kaleidoscopic jigsaw puzzle from as far back as l can knowingly remember – l was always feeling disjointed being just me, confused with my life and how l looked at my life. Falling victim to a lot of people and their behaviours including the brutish behaviour of my family who never thought twice to accuse me of mental retardation because l viewed life differently to them, or what l was subjected to at school by teaching authorities and peers alike because l thought differently to them, l saw the world in a different colour to them.
Whilst grass was green and the sky was blue – the air about me took on many colours and textures … l saw the complicated and finely intricate details in life at a young age but l failed to understand people … when l turned 45 in 2008 my life was turning already. It had been turned slightly in 2004 with a mild bipolar diagnosis but even then they said it was most likely comorbid with something else but they weren’t totally sure what.
In 2008, they confirmed that the bipolar was actually comorbid with the stronger of the two disorders – Asperger’s syndrome … after receiving that, my life just tipped upside down … l lost sight of who l was … l was angry, upset and bitterly disappointed in and with everything … l decided in 2009 that l would change my life and in order to do that, l had to understand who l really was and that meant l had to re-identify with me. This action also came at a great cost – my family either refused to acknowledge the diagnosis or they decided l was to become the black sheep of the family and my Asperger’s was the elephant in the room no-one talked about.
I was grateful back then that l never suffered loneliness …….. but that didn’t mean that stuck in a forty foot metal box on the Lincolnshire Fens with just my two dogs as company – that l didn’t suddenly very isolated from the rest of the world and totally alone…
…. because l did, and as terrible as that was and those days were and trust me they were set to become a lot worse … it was quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to me in a sad and grim way.