Overwhelmed

Sometime emotions take over!

White water rapid thoughts.

I'm trapped in a deluge,

a shark infested,

sludge filled delta

where angels

fear to tread.

Here the river

of cognitions

narrows,

is damned

to hell and back

as the rushing torrent

sweeps over me,

plunges me

over the cliff edge

of reason,

dulling my voice;

making me gasp

for air

and strike out

in fear

of drowning.

 

10/05/19

Author's Note

Reviews

[Ted Kniffen]

Well done, John. Perfectly encapsulates that touch of panic when thoughts start whirling through the head and we need to find something or someone to grab hold of to settle down the deluge while sharks are nipping at the heels and you're struggling for equilibrium.

A good write

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you so much Ted, I appreciate your thoughts.

[apennylate]

Strike out in fear of drowning... You could have easily tied in "shark" type rhymes with the intro, but instead you chose to slam what rhyme you did put home. With the use of the somewhat jarring, but exceptionally brilliant "delta"... You fish-lined my attention with that, and from there left me gasping for a strong finish... Which... I got... Almost like going into the rapids of self-doubt, myself....

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you SW for such a helpful and considered critique.

[apennylate]

Was a pleasure, and a delight to read... If such a thing as drowning can be a delight...

[Kent Rawski]

The sense of being swept away nothing to hold onto surely a maelstrom of thoughts good emotion john

[John Alexander McFadyen]

that was my aim so many thanks Kent.

[Cherrie]

What a powerful image, and a overwhelming panic

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you so much Cherrie. Glad it felt so.

[Shazbatt969]

If I cough
I drown
If I laugh
I die
It is lucky for us writers that we can contain this s**t, within the confines of metre and form, imagine giving poets and artists free license, think of The Purge on acid and Bukowski on drums.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed so dear poet, tis why we spill our guts upon parchment tis it not?

[Shazbatt969]

To paraphrase Mr B, take away the typewriter and all you have left is the sickness that started the writer writing in the first place

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Take away my typewriter and I'll kick yer feckin heed in. Never mind illness!