People|Fred Mount Photography

People|Fred Mount Photography

Ice. Caught in fall, mid-air.

Hear me rage.

Ignoble fates, tracing the hatred raw,

Relentless on the page.

Yours is the pause,

The question bled upon the edge.

Mine – final push

To purge all off the ledge.


Once noble hands

My deepest knowledge clawed.

Of serpent tongues

Unyielding rave applaud

Where torture found a way

To be refined,

Splitting my soul in two,

It dredged my mind.


In madness lost

I watch the crown’s power

And paint its tragic hold

Upon the hour.

Hear the heartbeat drum

And shatter silence

A bard of old – stirred up

In crippled violence.

3 thoughts on “Straitjacketed

  1. Pingback: Welcome to my world… In/verse | vic briggs

  2. I like your use of words to capture the intensity of feeling in this poem – nice shift too from an interal to an external perspective. Insanity? A subjective concept; who could deny that the Self is correct, and the masses misled?

    • Thank you, Chris. There are several recurrent themes in my poetry, and this is one of them. I tried to capture some of the disjointedness and ambiguity of both inner and outer world, in part obscured – in part reflected by one another. I love your question.

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