The Colours of Schizophrenia, Page 3

CHAPTER 3 Puzzles

  The Bags

  There’s a trenchant air surrounding every

  stranger’s face that harrows you.

  The clock is ticking again.

  It’s been one minute twenty since

  you last looked at your watch.

  You took the batteries from it, but it’s still

  bothering your faltering patience.

  The pattern of the leaves seems annoying;

  there’s nothing stopping you

  from packing your bags and leaving.

  It’s time to move on to another place,

  and another time. ‘Let’s get away from here’,

  you resound in your head.

  There’s another man following you,

  he’s probably from the government.

  He’s watching everything you do,

  and he has an earpiece,

  he won’t hurt you if you run away.

  What’s stopping you?

  The wind is blowing in your face

  — it must be God laughing

  at your misfortune.

  And a black bird has squawked three times;

  that’s a danger sign isn’t it?

  It’s time to pack your bags

  and leave this town once and for all;

  the ticking clock of fate will never leave you.

  If you run away, those omens may be vanquished.

  Jewel

  Diamond of passion

  her beauty has shone within,

  lighting up the face,

  Delicate

  Daisy chains of love

  Cycle of birth and rebirth,

  waiting for the truth

  Delusions

  Mystic light and dark,

  held together by a thought

  Dreaming of the world

  Darkness

  Poison in the dark,

  a chalice for the mind’s eye,

  hidden from the light

  Creation

  Power of the mind,

  inside every walk of life,

  balanced by design

  Death (Of My Hero)

  Death - a never-ending denial

  The day of torment with life’s guile

  Hate and anger swell inside

  Depression is where love hides.

  The family mourns with peace,

  as the flames of hell increase

  Expiring out with his last breath,

  for the lesson of life - is death!

  Acceptance

  My life is a ‘disturbance,

  of thought’. The recurring

  dream of mental perceptions,

  those old ‘stumbling blocks’

  of sephiroth. And the illusion of

  life is that we are different, but

  in disagreement and chaos.

  Yet we must not be ‘too quick to

  anger, for there are lessons to be

  learned and obstacles to be

  overcome. And when it seems

  that our ‘enemies’ are a stranger

  in our midst, let’s always

  say: ‘How did it come to this?’

  Because wars are far too plenty,

  and both parties must understand

  that we do not always have to

  agree. For we always do

  agree that we are ‘right’, and

  they are ‘wrong’. It takes

  patience to learn properly,

  and it leads to wonders

  of the heart. A mind that

  finds happiness is the same

  that knows that the wisdom

  of life’s love is a winding

  river of hope which leads

  to acceptance

  Living on the Ward

  Where is my patience

  on this ward?

  My pills are late in working

  Why are my friends

  on this ward?

  My heart, it is still beating

  Where is my conscience – is it

  asleep on this ward?

  My zombie nurses keep

  on waking

  Where is time? Is it lost

  on every ward?

  My brain — it is erasing!

  Water Ecstasy

  Water high upon

  magical tear-drops of love,

  crying rainbow dreams

  Worlds Apart

  Gentle hearts live

  inside a life of confusion.

  Sufferers of mental

  scars are not accepted by themselves,

  yet they still desire to be heard.

  And they say ‘all roads lead

  to Rome’, but the wise travel the less worn

  path. They grow up to stand out,

  and rebel against the

  sleeping generation of appeasers.

  Some say they will never follow the world,

  but that’s because they are worlds apart!

  Mortals

  The price of love is

  overshadowed by the eagerness of

  conceit. How pleasing for those

  who are fortunate to love!

  What need is there for kisses,

  when the love of money is

  more powerful? Those

  fools lose their sight,

  with the heart, as they wave

  goodbye to wealth. But the

  love of others is often the

  higher price of mortality,

  and is its treasure

  Suffering

  Senses torn apart

  Held together by a dream

  Madness is the cure

  Mysteries

  Mystery of ‘dreams’

  Hidden code resembles life

  Lies sedate the mind

  She (Guides Me)

  Pebble beach of sand

  Faith upon the shore,

  Love has been an island

  My heart is made pure.

  Earth of living nature

  Raise the mountains higher,

  A life built by these hands

  Will guide a new desire

  Turbulent tides of water

  Powers inside the sea

  Let these storms subside

  Now my waves run free

  Wind of raging forces

  Chaos from the dark

  Free my restless warrior

  and then let out the spark

  Images within a mind

  Woman of symbolic reality

  Like a river flowing

  The holy trinity

  Moon of darkest night

  Help the spirit shine

  Put your arms around me

  My path, it is divine

  Pretending

  You are calm and

  able to speak a

  word that coveys the

  wonderful feelings

  inside your heart, and

  yet deep inside you

  are only hiding a

  smile that once a

  year has a spirituality.

  And those heroes

  in your comic books

  are just memories

  when once they were

  real. But tell me: who

  is pretending? When

  the world is so cruel,

  the one of joy and

  happiness takes over

  Salt Water

  Paranoia’s loss

  is a love from high above,

  stained with salt water

  Suggestion

  The adverts on TV, or

  a partially racist man,

  who lacks his own love.

  The crime show that

  educates the masses,

  or those who do not

  read. A casual off the

  cuff remark, which

  leaves a sour taste

  in the mouth. The skin

  cream which tricks

  women into parting

 
money. A song which

  blinds us with the fog

  of misery. And videos

  which blur money and

  success with status,

  and adulation. They

  all have a power which

  the wheels of my mind

  Cannot ignore!