THE WRITE HEMISPHERE

 

Stroke art is an anagram

for what's not on my mind.

I was a creative writing

tutor working as developer.

setting up workshops linking

Belfast, Dublin, L/Derry. all

Ireland peace poetry.

I loved my job love it felt

a vocation. Some of my

students when on to set up

writers class and published

works of their own. 

Only paid a pittance wage

I worked twenty- four hours

money didnt matter- Poetry

like sunshine is free, my moto.

I took a massive stroke in 2005

that would have killed a horse.

They say I died for seconds

and woke bolt upright and woke

to this strange world of unemotional-

enginneering in a blemished-

 acceptance.

My hard drive was erased of 45 years.

I cant remember my three sons being 

born and a twenty, the strange thing is

Irecognie them as family but for the half-

life  of I have no memory. I cant even re-

member my own childhood. the stroke

left me in a wheelchair parlyzed down

the right side of my body. Aphasia-aphan-

tasia, for 20 yearsI have been writing

a blog called 

             

THE WRITE HEMISPHERE.

Poe-artry is my life, my dark hopeless hope:

@apf1961.blogspot.com  my web is:

adrianfox.org     I havepublished 7 books

of poetry, my last publication is called

Aphantastic tales by lapwing press- Ihave no agenda for money fame, I Just hope it helps

other lost people who live outside humanity.

I live for my art and like my development

work I set up a programe called C.R.A.I.C.

community relations activity in Craigavon

put my name into youtube and my poe-artry

will appear art is my only savior, I just hope

it helps others. 

I have no mindseye like a blind imagination

there is no help for me, self determination is 

a wonerful thing wrting and art is the dignity  disabled need for them to accept that they are broken but they have art to express their inner being.

 EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went 

away I thought it nests of insect

any speck tiny speck moved. Can

you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this. How do

I find substance when my body

 hono substance.

 

In 2005 I took a massive stroke that

almost killed me, they say I died for

seconds in ICU. No one has ever ex-

plain this:  every morning I woke

with black blotches behind my

 eyes.

 

When I blinked awake they went away I thought it nests of insect

 any speck tiny speck moved. Can

 you explain?

 

One day at the breakfast table I q-

tipped my ears and a massive blob

of wax came out. No one has ever explained so here my opinion: 

the process of death was inside 

me the blobs of wax were the

 blotches behind my eyes.

 

Since then the blobs of insects have disappeared. I thought it was a stroke of luck, it broke my sinew

 elasticity sensation emotional

 engineering leaving me paralyzed

 in a wheelchair.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing. EMOTIONAL ENGINEERING

 

Aphasia-I can’t get the words out-

 In. I don’t understand sometimes

I can’t comprehend, mumbling

my way through. Aphantasia no

visual imagery, no mind’s eye

all sensation was erased with

my long- term memory. 45 years 

of memory is gone, I can't

remember my sons being born. 

My childhood sense is nonsensical,

 I feel like a zom-me impotent. 

I can’t even use touch-screen

nothing at my fingertips. I can't

put my finger on what’s locked-

in my locked in syndrome.

 

I don’t mean this in a depressive

 slant it’s just my factual truth. 

I have to live in the real, I can no

 longer dream. They say dreams

 keep you sane writing this is 

like a daydream. I’m so outside 

of tthis life a messed-up life.

 

In that way I’m glad of aphantasia,

 it helps me deal with trauma. It

 might be why the brain i s divided,

 like livingwith one lung etc is this

 plausible?

 

I have been trying to deal with

This went to speech physio every

No one seems to able to help

Mental health and psyce teams

After two attempts of suicide

Asking will you hurt yourself…

 

I tried to explain-I didn’t do it

To die, I gambled life to live.

I reached rock bottom no where

Else to go, I needed substance

So I gambled just like you gamble.

 

You have the rite of passage to live

Or die but all the mental health

Are stuck on a righteous one way

But it takes two to tango, so swoon

Like John Keats and his negative

Capability my blemished

 acceptance.

 

I cant find a way out of this hell

 hole as marguirette dumas said 

on her studies of melancholy.

 When you find yourself

In a hole beneath a hole 

you realize only writing 

can save you.

 

Everyday I write a blog called 

the write Hemisphere, left brain

 was erased. I cant get my broken

 mind around this.

 

If that power had reached my 

brain alone I would be dead. 

Feels like I am somedays poe-

 

art keeps me alive.

 

Rilke the poet wrote: the main

 thing is to be alive that’s 

the main thing.

                       thing.