poetry

CONDITION OF MY HEART – EXTRACTED FROM NIGHT FLUTES: A BOOK OF POETRY

Thought that was really you; prowling the alley like a panther, walking your façade.

I get so high I can even see the aliens in the trees.

They are watching me.

These are your lies, you left them here.

Your show was alluring, posh & demure.

A mamba snake I follow to the shores of midnight.

The witching hour draws near.

3am.

A shadow falls on my body shaped like the soul of an old tree, dripping like black wax on sun burnt grass.

I thought it was you & then realized it was the condition of my heart

 

Copyright © 2019 by Adrian Calloo
All rights reserved.

 


 

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PINK AND BLACK ROSES -EXTRACTED FROM NIGHT FLUTES꞉ A BOOK OF POETRY

Pink and Black Roses

 

Take 1

Sent at the end of June,

flowers nourished in ice water.

Sent in haste, delivered by strangers.

Should have walked the miles to feel the thorns in my feet but the discomfort of heartbreak is hard to replicate.

So, I send you pink and black roses, nourished on fire water.

Pretending I still know you, when all I know is a ghost.

 

Take 2

I sent you a remnant of my heart,

the voice of night imprisoned in a petal,

from tear to earth, born as a rosebud.

What kind of light appeases the radiant bride?

Reminding me of lost summers; where lovers never kissed

& windows stay closed.

The groom covering his trail of lies with artificial flowers; manufactured elegance, taut & ridiculously pretty, a token of fraudulent love.

Do you know who sent you the real roses that watch you sleep?

Breathing life into your heart, reminding you that you’re alive unlike the plastic ones that stink of rubber and strawberries.

 

Take 3

Imprisoned in its vase, is a rose still a rose when it dies?

Or is there just an unused vase; waiting to be filled?

When starved of light, does a rose contemplate death?

I wonder, does it wish to be free, out in the evening breeze?

What should I call this skeleton of beauty?

Its grace transformed to blackened confetti; my shredded hope.

If I were to retrieve my unwanted gift,

on this suffering night, in my hands, it would crumble.

I would destroy it, like you said I would.

Better to let it just turn to nothing in its decorated prison.

I do think of it often; its familiar ending is the hook in my heart

 

Copyright © 2019 by Adrian Calloo
All rights reserved.

 

Purchase ‘Night Flutes: A Book of Poetry’  

 

HOW WRITING POETRY HELPED ME TO CONFRONT MY DEPRESSION

Depression is a strange beast, isn’t it?

It sneaks up on you disguised as melancholy and mild stress and before you know it, you’re struggling to get out of bed in the morning.

I never planned to tie my poetry collection to mental illness. Many of the poems were written at stages in my life when I was feeling on top of the world but many were also created when I was in a dark place.

The poems in Night Flutes were written over a course of roughly 7 years.
A poem titled ‘There Is No Other Drug‘ reminds me of the illusion I built up around getting high as if it was some sort of internal utopia of which I should be proud.

Potential Holes‘ reminds me of the feelings I felt reflecting on the murder of a school friend.
The thing about depression – for me – is that I didn’t realise I was depressed until I began gathering poems to include in the poetry collection book.

I thought I was just temporarily sad. I was burying my depression under a mountain of drugs and casual relationships.

As I sat down at the computer and began to read my own poetry, it felt like I was reading someone else’s work.
Who was this person writing about addictions, unbridled lust and loneliness; was it me?

It was at that point that I decided to examine my mental health.

I began to eat better, I started to work out in the gym, I changed my 9-5 job, began meditating and continued to write poetry.

When I returned to gather more poetry for my collection, I observed that the poems were now of a spiritual nature. I saw a person that was still trying to find themselves but was noticeably stronger and more focused.

Initially, I was going to create two books out of the collection. One for the dark poetry and another for the more enlightening poems but I eventually decided to put them in the same book.
As I read through ‘Night Flutes‘ today, I can see my own transformation from a person who was ignorant of my own mental well-being to someone who was completely aware of the need for self-care.

I haven’t written any poetry for a while now, as I have been working on my debut novel  ‘A Monster in Harlem’ but when I do return to poetry, I hope that it will reveal a more strong and contented being.

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