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The Colours of Schizophrenia, Page 2

David Holloway

CHAPTER 2 Passages of Life

  Let Me Fly

  In the distance, I

  know, I’ve been

  down and

  searching low

  Know there’s

  been times when

  my pride was the

  only thing on

  show.

  Through my

  endeavours my

  heart bled — but I

  never turned

  around or gave

  in to deceit.

  I thought life

  was a joyride on

  the way to easy

  street.

  But I knew that

  without you I’d

  have crashed and

  burned.

  Knew without

  you no lessons

  could have been

  learned.

  But with a new

  engine I learned

  so many new

  things

  Learned how to

  love, so I’m going

  to spread these

  wings

  Gonna amaze

  you with my

  wonders, going

  to reach into the

  sky.

  And only you can

  stop me, so please

  mum, you’ve got

  to let me fly!

  Let me lift my

  spirits up - won’t

  you see how high

  I can go?

  Without your

  support I’m still

  gliding; if you

  wish harder, I’ll

  glow.

  These mountains

  in the distance —

  they don’t mean a

  thing to me now!

  I’m going to dazzle

  them with my

  acrobatics

  somehow.

  When I was an

  ugly duckling

  and you put your

  wings over me

  I said a little

  prayer so that

  your love would

  set us free

  I knew you

  would get older

  and everyday my

  mind would find

  the light

  So those days

  lost to wonder

  were just getting

  me ready for the

  fight.

  You see, we work

  together; as my

  loving mother

  you are the key

  But you have

  unlocked my

  power now. I’m

  flying our wings

  to victory,

  No, nobody can

  stop us — we are a

  united carousel

  of hopes and

  dreams

  And who would

  have thought

  we’d get this far

  on just a ‘fool’s’

  hopeless

  schemes!

  Washed Away

  It isn’t too much to hope for,

  our salvation. When the rains come my

  faith is shaken, and the plans I

  have are washed away. Each tear

  drop makes my colours run into

  another day. But my worldly colours

  merged and created a zeal

  in my soul, and the sun renewed

  my strength and gave me back

  control. So my caustic catatonia

  was crushed and started to decay,

  as life brought me closer to the

  communion of God’s way

  A Life of Extremes

  Sensitivity is such a manic

  hyperactive phenomenon.

  Playing with over-run

  synapses and chemicals,

  awash with dopamine,

  running wild in your head.

  Paralysed with fear and

  And the lows of depression,

  screaming for the ‘madhouse’

  or cracking up with fools,

  in between the neurons with

  the creation of extremes.

  Echoes

  There inside your brain

  is a computer recording your every move.

  It’s set to remember previous conversations

  and it helps those who know its use. But

  every picture you see and every whim

  you hear becomes a part of ‘waking dreams’.

  Random topics of conversation that seem

  so subtle and concise to you are in fact

  the remembrances of previous thoughts

  and the infinity of sub-conscious echoes

  There’s Hope

  Hopefulness appears in the frozen

  shards of disaster when tears flow like a

  river back to the sea. Hope exists on a

  mountaintop as a climber reaches

  its summit after his perilous journey.

  There’s hope in charity,

  therein the over-pouring of kindness

  for a stranger in need.

  It resounds in an unexpected

  kiss - on a boring day.

  It’s there when we forget

  arguments and bitter fights after

  the night before. Hope remains in the

  hearts of loving couples who have

  renewed their vows on their golden

  anniversary after fifty years.

  There’s hope for the future as past

  enemies put their differences

  to one side after eons of war. Hope

  resounds for equality when it shines,

  waiting to be noticed after

  segregation. Hope is a promise, and it’s

  always faithful to expect it, rather than be

  dismayed as it eclipses the manic cries

  of fear. And it’s always

  there in the character of human

  forgiveness.

  Let Me Think

  Those men who stole

  the stars from the sky,

  and put the universe into

  his own mind’s eye

  He swallowed the chains

  coming from the world,

  and fell in love with

  Mother Nature’s girl,

  He took the words that

  the devil spoke,

  and tried to fix every

  hole that society broke

  When he looks into the

  fiery pits of hell,

  he dreams of heaven only

  Time will tell, and

  she’s a cosmic girl that

  rights a wrong,

  Who sings to the blind

  a triumphant song

  And she exists in chaos,

  but she nurtures the meek

  Like the Mona Lisa, her

  smile is unique

  And when times are tough

  and mankind lets us down,

  you can count on those

  brothers to turn us

  around. They cry with

  shame, though they are a

  nation of pride

  who have no reason

  to weep. They have

  an inner strength inside

  And those philosophers

  meander into streams of

  sin. But their hearts are

  purely divine — a

  spiritual life within

  They conceive of love

  though they receive our hate

  Some help them to fly when

  their patience is late

  And God will judge the few

  who fall in between,

  who live to regret their evil

  lies and schemes

  A curious people whom

  society has labelled as ‘sick’

  Those remarkable thinkers

  — the schizophrenic!

  The Mirror

  Who is the man staring

  in the mirror,

>   when the light won’t

  turn on and his reflection

  is dimmer?

  Where is the man when

  his personality has changed?

  Where are the colours

  of his pride when he’s

  living strange?

  Where is the hero when

  the treasure is lost?

  What is man’s price to society

  when love has no cost?

  Confusion

  The missing pieces

  leave the mentally ill confused

  living a half-life

  Blossom

  Blossom on the tree

  Mother Nature is undressed

  Humble and unique

  Reflection

  In a heartbeat

  I could be yours — if the occasion

  was right. To be in your

  loving memory and fulfil

  every new delight

  The passage of

  your love that you gave to me,

  is still in my eyes as we

  kissed affectionately,

  and deep in my soul are the

  embers from a fire

  Who can see the truth in

  forgotten razor wire?

  But you still resound in

  every part of me that I can

  compare — even though

  she’s just a reflection of a

  person who’s

  not there.

  Symptoms

  Positive symptoms and

  negative symptoms

  behave like Freudian puzzles

  of the unconscious, as

  something fills the void.

  It takes the life-force from a

  human, who searches for

  a heavenly answer.

  The loss of speech, creates

  hallucinations of voices.

  Social withdrawal steals

  friendships, and angels take

  their place. A mourning of

  laughter succeeds a universe

  of being depressed. ‘Broken

  thoughts’ transform into

  fantasy. As the world turns

  into shades of grey: delusions

  of grandeur bestow colour

  to the soul.

  My Reality (Life)

  Reality is God’s design,

  bound by truest reason and rhyme

  Is there an end to man’s pain?

  Mental shadows feel the rain,

  needing love’s iron resolve

  Must move on and then evolve.

  We’ll never find the master key

  Love uncovers life’s mystery!

  Just Smile

  When people are cruel and

  they spread fear and lies —

  Just smile

  When we should be happy

  but all we do is frown —

  Just smile

  When the seasons change

  and so do our hearts —

  Just smile

  And when life fails

  and we’ve no more time

  Just smile,

  For if we stop smiling

  what is there to life?

  Smile at your misfortunes

  and never think twice

  Subconscious

  Human ‘madness’

  of possibility, ‘waves’ of power

  and frequency. Release me from

  the indignations of my past.

  Take me through the ‘looking-glass’.

  Abstain me from the chains of life’s

  ‘broken thoughts’, which morbidly act

  out in nightmares, so wrought.

  The soul needs to sing to my sugar-

  coated pills, by making the

  sedated brains be resolute and shrill.

  And the doctors have forgotten the

  ‘abstract’ brain; it has obtrusions

  to seek out love’s pleasures or pain.

  But I pray to the heart so that

  a cure will shortly be found - one that

  unites the minds of the fallen, and

  a folie a deux of ‘clowns.’