The existential scream inside me.

The Scream inside my mind, nothing to see nothing more than a twitch in my one eye, which I do not remember. So far down that is and I believed that I had reached the bottom already, because I still stand. The Scream inside my soul, is shaking my insufficient weak body, make me trembling like aspen-leaf in the breeze. So high I flew off in the sky and the world was mine and I should just take it without trembling or conscience.

The Scream inside me burn holes in my sensuality and penetrate my shield.

The Scream inside me freezes my thoughts stuck in patterns I’ve never seen before.

The Scream inside me erodes away my firm belief that I can handle everything alone.

The Scream inside me thunders away and remove the last vestige of courage which I had saved.
Hovering over a planet where everything was possible, but was hit by something that made me spiral downward. I was so much stronger than life itself, I possessed the essence of life and power and could carry the world. Hovered over my own life and then saw all the shortcomings that existed in emptiness, did not see any guiding fire. I suddenly became cautious and did not dare chance anymore, I died a little and pulled the last of me away.
The Scream inside me telling me all the lies as a human can be exposed.

The Scream inside me returning every day to haunt my wounded soul.

The Scream inside me, fixed me in a stranglehold that nobody can expect to escape.

The Scream inside me, emptied me of life of workers patience and makes me fade to gray.

 

The Scream in my mind, look now already at me differently than the afraid movements and irrational thoughts. So infinitely far down there is, I dare not look to see the bottom because I know that I need to get down there. The Scream in my mind, creates the frightened and shifty eyes you see now and they see the world completely anew. So far I’ve fallen into non-hunting in the world and I should have taken it with my usual calmness and power.

 

The Scream inside me is not the voice from the past golden heights and powerful force.

The Scream inside me sneaked in while I slept and was not prepared for battle.

The Scream inside me can be heard echoing through the empty Universe dark infinity.

The Scream inside me, is maybe fates sweet revenge for all the troubles I did.
So infinitely lonely I am now and do not understand the extent of the anxiety that eats us all, even our thoughts. Foolish scenes are set up and old facades are crushed in hell, right here in me and as the unforgiving pain. So infinite lonely are we all when no one is listening or talking to us and instead we are pushed away into oblivion. My thoughts is the truths swirling scratch that,s spoil the delicate interior of our belief and that justice is available to us.
The Scream inside me no one else can hear and be glimpsed only a heavy respiration.

The Scream inside me, thought I was someone else’s pain expressed and not mine.

The Scream inside me, sparing nothing in its devastating way through my thoughts.

The Scream inside me, put my soul desolate and pulls my last strength out of me.

 

The Scream in my heart, paralyzes my chances again to see the world as it was in glories rays. Insanity thoughts whirling around and grind it fine layer of the beauty of life, cruel and merciless. The Scream in my heart drowns truths and lies and I can no longer distinguish between them. Foolish thoughts deceive our faith in the truth golden glow and will never shine and enlighten us all.
The Scream inside me as no one hears frightens the life out of me.

The Scream inside me is as no one notice the lurking failure in everyone who loses faith.

The Scream inside me whirls around and take all my sane reason from me inside.

The Scream inside me is singing a sick and crazy song for me without words, love and faith.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About jachso

Hey Destiny Poets. I live in Denmark about 90 km from Copenhagen and works in Roskilde as a teacher and mentor. I'm probably not like most men of my age and yes I am aged 50 years old. I've tried a lot of jobs without finding what I'm passionate about. Writing, I have always loved and I was probably just 14 years old when I produced my first poem. I have not yet been released some of my poems, but I hope it happens one day. I just finished a novel which I would like to have published, now the time and talent show whether I have the ability to write. Poetry has a special meaning for me and this is where I really feel at home. My life has sometimes been marked by many losses. In the mid eighties, I lost my fiance at the time when the accident happened was pregnant. She lost control of the car and drove herself and her child, who was on his way thereby, to death. It has really made its mark on my life and way of thinking. In the late nineties, I had problems with my back and had to seek other avenues to support myself. I finally decided to enroll at university and was admitted to the humanist line. I read philosophy, science, psychology, journalism and history, but philosophy and psychology is my major interest. I thrive today in the RUC aka Roskilde University just 25 km from Copenhagen. My job is to guide and teach, and it is a job with speed and that gives me a lot again. I have two collections of poems ready to be released, if I can find a publisher who will publish them. I have no children, it would obviously be my lot in life although I have tried, but luck never smiled at me that way. If you have any questions for me so I hope you just ask away all you want, I'll respond as soon as I have read the questions. With kindest regards from Jan Sorensen

2 thoughts on “The existential scream inside me.

  1. jachso Post author

    The inspiration for this very odd poem come from the anxiety people experiences from time to time. Caught in anxiety take away your ability to live in your own true belief. Your choices shall be taken in honesty to your self, don,t be afraid..there is nothing to fear than the fear it self.
    Jachso.

    Reply
  2. Louis Kasatkin

    Technically this is an extended,free form prose poem ; hugely ambitious in scope and courageous in choice of subject matter. I discerned 18 lines set out in the conventional and recognisable poem style and of and by themselves would constitute a more than powerful and intensive poetic declamation. The prose style paragraphs might serve the understanding of the reader better were they more strongly delineated ,e.g each paragraph might have a numeral suffix,(I),(II) etc. That is not to detract from the work’s inherent qualities and merits,but rather to structure this magnum opus more advantageously.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *