A Poem for the Dawn

 A Poem for the Dawn

 

I write without hope but still words proceed

That in the future some seeker shall read

Long odds with a strong God often succeed

If you fight for right you’ll rise as there’s need

All great revolutionary vision

Came from the light of ordinary men

A better world I can give my children

Where virtue defeats the wages of sin

I see ancient men with tough withered skin

Wisdom begins when one learns to listen

This poem a humble and simple rhyme

Shall be the standard to measure the time

Listen laughers who cackle with scorn

From towers of torment you shall be torn

This is the warning, calm before the storm

As poets protest, WE SHALL NOT CONFORM

Futility nips the heels of my shoes

I resist the shame to proclaim good news

A time of turning a new age shall dawn

And all evil like darkness fled and gone

Murmurings Of A Mad Man

Murmurings Of A Mad Man

 How can one describe mental illness?

There are of course the complex psychiatric definitions. But what do these cold hard diagnosis tell you about the heart? Or the feelings one has? Or the spiritual trauma? Murmurings of a Mad Man is a book of poetry written by myself. It deals with my time spent inside of Graystone Psychiatric Hospital. I am a sufferer of bipolar disorder.

I don't think the poetry is what anyone would expect from a psychiatric patient. It is written in strict rhyme with strict rhythm. Here's a sample.

Abandoned in Dorm Sixty Two

Beauty is a pleasing thing to the eye

For a lovely women men kill and die

Charm is a warmth eternal for all days

Conquering hearts as they lift subdued praise

But those things are a wave on the ocean

Life’s greatest treasure is plain devotion

As I sit in dorm number sixty two

Insane thoughts tornado right unto you

Not a lover, nor brother, nor friend

I am just something you liked to pretend

An uncomfortable being ignored

Seen with scorn, in contempt I am deplored

Not a visit, a call, nor a note

“I am the least of these” to give a quote

Abandoned ship when it hit disaster

Seeing a leper you ran the faster

Oh if you but knew our dear sweet Master

For Love is something worthy to die for

To give everything and then give some more

I needed just a hand to hold in hell

I believe you understand it now well

Fly away, to another discover

I desire you not as friend or lover

I am the summation of all holy

For even the greatest begun lowly

But do not pout nor have a frown on face

There’s always grace

Murmurings of a Mad Man come hear it

God is a lunatic and a Spirit

Dorm sixty two was the dormitory that I was in. Graystone State Psychiatric Hospital is a place where only committed patients are held. Those that were deemed as a threat to others or to themselves. It's most famous resident was Woody Guthrie.

In the book I use three figures to represent my ego, superego and id. These being Joe Hill, Woody Guthrie and Crazy Horse. One thing about mental illness is that it takes away your pride. Any semblance of arrogance vanishes. It is in this low state that one feels a connection with the common man. That one learns compassion for the oppressed and down trodden.

Murmurings of a Mad Man is definitely a statement about life. It looks at the world from a unique perspective; one that many are unaware exists. I ask you to take a moment and use the eyes that have been thrust upon me. It will lead to greater understanding of the world around you and even yourself.

Sylvia

My love she lies beside me sleeping our dream

My breath is hushed as my pen dictates scream

She is the angel that makes life easy

She is the devil that knows how to please me

Lover, Friend, Doctor, Nurse, Mother and Wife

The steadfast anchor the Love of my life

How many angry words have you forgave?

How many times my life came to save?

I do not have any greater desire

Then to kiss your lips and embrace your fire

You are fantasy a lady and more

In agony the woman I adore

When the well is empty from you I drink

When my mind is barren your thoughts I think

You are my black rose delicately tough

I ask for more I’ll never have enough

I pray your inner hopes of righteousness

Will awaken you with fulfillment’s soft kiss

I am the sage you humble to a fool

I am a god your life I cannot rule

Sleep dear child as I chase futility

You will never know what you mean to me

Murmurings Of A Mad Man 

Jerry Paul

Jerry Paul

 

Of all God’s creatures be they great or small

None do I love as much as Jerry Paul

We are friends and nothing can take that away

Such were the words my buddy would say

He has gone to the zenith of the night

While I have traveled to untouchable light

The two of us getting drunk in room seven

Ah if Earth had a glimpse of heaven

Come to me and do not desert the sacred cause

Fight the foolishness of man’s fatal laws

Madness like Sid at the Gates of Dawn

See the lunatic folded on the lawn

Remorse of course is the source of glowing

Are you well it is hell just not knowing

Has the CIA taken over your mind?

Are your still gentle, proper, calm and kind

I have changed is that strange for me to say?

I never desired or inspired to walk that way

I wish I could tell you you’re inside my heart

And my Love for you brother cannot part

But in bitterness you fled for higher ground

I wonder under God’s heaven what have you found?

Now I hesitate to articulate

Are you crazy, lazy, can you relate?

I will put you on the visitor’s list

Now that is an offer you cannot resist

So until my fame I will say a prayer

Still the same, know how greatly I do care

Of all God’s creatures be they great or small

None do I Love as much as Jerry Paul

 Murmurings Of A Mad Man information 

Box Car Blues

Box Car Blues

 

Aero planes flying over box car trains

Were safe and dry nobody dares complain

Michigan Mitch on the harmonica

Woodie Guthrie strumming singing to ya

Oh what joy to be alive and to exist

My eyes swell with tears let the beauty persist

Laughing till our stomachs ache Mister Block

New meaning bout having a head of rock

We are homeless and have no employment

We don’t need a sage to know what joy meant

Happiness is harmony of like mind

Comrades and brothers treating others kind

One companion we see holes in his hands

Even our most ignorant understands

The Lord doesn’t talk but oh he does smile

In that grin the whole of life is worth while

Rich man denies that Jesus ever lived

How then can their sins ever be forgived?

The Son of God lets cocktail parties pass

Cause he’s the Creator imbued with class

Idle chatter on things that matter not

They are gatherings better off forgot

Now a dozen hobos singing in bliss

That my friend is a show one shouldn’t miss

That’s the truth my friend the truest of trues

You haven’t lived till ye hear the box car blues

Murmurings Of A Mad Man information 

"Murmurings Of A Mad Man" A New Beginning

“Murmurings Of A Mad Man” is the first book of poetry I ever published. Needless to say, I was excited. Now nearly five years later I am self-publishing the same book.

"Murmurings Of A Mad Man" is a thrilling book of poetry written in rhyme and rhythm. It deals with the time I was a patient at Greystone State Psychiatric Hospital. By looking outward through poetry I explore my insides, in the process a memorable book for the ages. 

So here comes the new beginning of “Murmurings Of A Mad Man” with a new cover and a new attitude. Please help me in this celebration of emancipation.

Crazy Poems

Over yonder hill two love birds sing duet

Beauty born in morn never to forget

Reality is a glimpse of God’s love

God is a spirit below and above

High in the sky the eagle and the dove

You sweet lady is who I’m thinking of

Once we walked in harmony full of bliss

Once you came and robbed a fateful sweet kiss

Your insanity was so obvious

Parasites sucking blood, give more of this

In the shadow of shade you slipped away

Murmuring of a mad man came your way

Alarmed, frightened, you shut the door real tight

Suffering is a cross that leads to light

Where are you now but on Hell’s wide highway

You gained the world; it was your soul to pay

Our song of romance crucified to cease

Racing thoughts mania with no release

Where was the kindness the most gentle care

Did you ever go on your knees in prayer

To petition our God upon His throne

Do you wonder why you’re lost and alone

Second chances they rarely do come by
I never wanted to go make you cry

Click Here 

The Awakenings Project

Empowering Healing Through Art-

As a poet and writer I am grateful for every magazine or outlet that has ever published my work. It is a truly an honor when somebody says to you, 'your work is good enough for us' and proves that statement by publishing it. As such I am always looking to pay back kindness with kindness. So please allow me to introduce to you "The Awakenings Project".

Awakenings Project Mission Statement

"The Awakenings Project is a grass-roots initiative whose mission is to assist artists with psychiatric illnesses in developing their craft and finding an outlet for their creative abilities through art in all forms. The Awakenings Project also works to raise public awareness and acceptance of the creative talents of people living with psychiatric disorders who work in the fields of fine art, music, literature, and drama."

Check out their website. http://awakeningsproject.org/index.shtml

I see the Awakenings Project as a safe place where people with mental illness can express themselves and not feel inhibited or judged. People who suffer from psychological problems are a family, much in the same way 'veterans', or any other group who have shared a common experience are. The mentally ill, share a unique perspective in life, that only we can understand. In the Awakenings Project you will find work exclusively written by the mentally ill. For one that is mentally ill you will find the common chord. For those outside of our community you will find valuable insights to what makes us what we are.

I can recommend The Awakenings Project in two ways. One is to submit your artwork to them. I don't believe that there is an active call for work presently but it wouldn't hurt for you to contact them and inquire. Even if you have never been published before, here is an excellent place to begin. So much of getting published, is not so much as the quality of the poem, but finding the right match for what you wrote. Here is something written exclusively by the mentally ill, so that narrows the field of competition greatly.

Secondly the Awakenings Project is excellent reading for anybody. I enjoyed reading through my complimentary copy. Some of the works made me laugh and some made me think. A few even got under my skin and wretched my heart.  I gave one of the issues I was published in to my psychiatrist as a gift.

Please allow me to present one of the poems the Awakenings Project published of mine.

Still Don’t Know

Sweet whispers under night’s sky

Why is heaven so high?

Clouds blowing to and fro

And I still don’t know

I have demons

Like heaven has its hell

I’ll keep on dreamin’

You really can never tell

Life’s confusion

Truth fades to illusion

You have all you desired

Cept what is required

You never came

Played me as if a game

Still you did give

It helped me to live

Yet the love didn’t grow

Still don’t know, still don’t know

Truth written in stone

Love’s essence never known

What more can I bring

Cept everything

Still don’t know, still don’t know

Still don’t know, still don’t know

https://blogs.psychcentral.com/fragments/2017/10/the-awakenings-project-art-from-mentally-ill/

Please check out my book “MurmuringsOf A Mad Man”