The Verse Of The Damned (poetry)

in poetry •  last year 

gorge bridge.jpg
Photo by yours truly

Greetings Steemians

I wrote this last night and looked at it today upon hearing that yet another soul heard the verse of the damned and jumped from this bridge today. The flow of it to me doesn't quite yet lend itself to music, but we'll see, maybe later.


How I yearn for an end to all the drama
To all desire and struggle
For the shades loving rest among my kin
They call from that empty shore
Across oblivion seas await to an end to all things
My tears fade away along with joy and care
To pass as all must do through to twilight
For even that to fade away
The yearning is now gone
No angel wings or celestial vaults
No silver mansions on streets of gold
No mead filled halls of glory
Just empty silent void
Bereft of sorrow and joy
Thus is the verse of the damned

verse of the damned.jpg
photo taken by @jan-mccomas this morning as she was waiting to cross the bridge

There is no life without struggle nor any struggle without life. Be good to the ones you love and everyone else because we don't know what they might be going through. I cannot deny that I do not hear the sirens call of oblivion quite often. I try to channel my depression into art, but if you're struggling, please seek help.

You can hear a song I wrote about this place here
Of The Gorge
or from iTune or Amazon

peace and love.jpg

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  ·  last year (edited)

That photo alone without any words is striking enough. It takes my mind to that place of thought. Scenes like that always do.

I don't know why... I guess I could point to things in life, but I don't know why some of us have those automatic thoughts, or that sort of internal mood, while others don't. I know it feels like a background noise that will never go away, though. And it's not like a terror that haunts, so much as a comfort that's there beckoning, welcoming. It's something inside that wants peace, maybe a restart, a clean slate. I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem to go away beyond being hushed to quieter for a while, before it always reminds you it's still there.

To channel it into music is a good thing. I think it's maybe a more common thing than many realize. I think a lot of music (and surely some of the most striking music) likely gets written from that kind of coping, among others. Music heals and releases things inside you that you have no other way to express.

I remember watching a documentary one time about the Golden Gate Bridge that retold some stories of jumpers there. I felt a connection to those people. And as dark as it might sound, even to watch them in the act, the struggle and then the release from that struggle. It's such a mix of emotion that it brings. It very much not entertainment and I didn't take it as such. But... I guess I just understand something about what would drive a person to do that. It's dark, it's black. It's very very black, but at the same time it's a complete release. So as much as I hate that someone's path would come to that, I feel like I understand why they'd do it.

But life is so short as it is, and I guess for me I've channeled those feelings in a way that I can manage, until I can't, and then I adjust to find a way again. It's like a dark poetry that always lives in the back of your mind, walks with you, writing over everything you ever experience. And honestly, I'm not sure I'd know how to react to experiencing anything different, it's just so familiar. So I find comfort in the thought when I need to, but otherwise I go on.

I do wonder when people finally decide to do such a thing, how long has it been, how long did they cope, and how tired they must have been? You truly can't ever know someone else's internal world. And I think something we don't like to admit as a society, or allow people to claim is that for some it's a literal living hell they live with inside of themselves, and instead of hating them for leaving maybe we should see reason to commend them for enduring what they did for so long. None of us survive life as it is, some just need to leave early. They need, there's no other explanation I can think of, barring the few who truly are insane. And that's another thing - we call it an irrational act. I really don't think so. I think it's maybe one of the most honest and rationally thought out there can be for some. Years and years and years of thought and struggle with it.

And I'm in no way saying I believe it's an ideal answer. It's not. I want people to stay and find a way to enjoy the short time they have. But it's also a fact that I respect and accept that some just can't find reason anymore. And that's their ultimate right. Really poignant photo and words, though, you've shared. Life means so much and in such a quick second it can mean absolutely nothing. I guess we stick around to carve out more of that meaning while we still have the option to.

There's beauty in the light and the dark, and I see so much unfortunate beauty in the blackest of things. Maybe we should feel special that we're the ones life has made able to see it, in places where others might lose vision or not even know a way to respond to such complete loss of hope - unable to keep their sanity intact - and then, even more, feel proud that we can find a way to appreciate the darkness in life as something beautiful. Like it's an honorable skill you earn from living and then surviving.

There's beauty in the coping with pain. It shows in the person who does it as much as it does in their art, or music, or whatever things it leads them to create. The Verses of the Damned - have to find respect for whatever it is that leads you to keep writing them. I think there's a reason, even if it's mostly personal, there is. Maybe that pain of that darkness is the one strongest motivational thing leading you forward, as much as it could be the thing leading you over the bridge someday. People simply fight until they can't anymore.

I really appreciate the well written comment @intspekt. I agree with everything you've said as well. I've always felt some kind of kinship with people who take their own life as stupid as that may sound to a lot of folks. I tried myself when I was 27 and ended up in the hospital for a torturous night of having my stomach pumped and I swore I'd never do it again. After all the things that has transpired in the years since, I've lived a whole other lifetime since that day full of joy and sorrow deeper than I could've ever imagined and I still have resisted and stayed around, not just for my children, but out of this strange curiosity. The thought to me that many find them selfish is alien concept to my mind. They are just more brave and willing to do it rather than stay in a place full of shallow and meaningless arguments. I don't want to see them go but I get it, I understand. I look longingly at my shot gun every other day myself. I think I do it on purpose to just remind me that I should not do it. I don't want my kids to not have any parents left. Even after they leave the nest I plan to just disappear and live the rest of my life camping from place to place.
I look at depression as something that certain folks just have to live with and sometimes it is why they die, just like any other disease, but it's just harder and more mysterious thing to treat. I'm not sure.

  ·  last year (edited)

I know exactly what you mean. For people who seem to get called crazy so much...there seems to be a lot of rationality in the thoughts, the reasons, that lead to suicide. Maybe that's the hardest thing for onlookers to admit. These 'terrible' actions are reflective of truths in life. Not mental disease, but reality. I think depression is a true disease, but I can't deny the things in life that cause it either. Your comment means a lot. Thanks. And there is that dividing line in life, it seems, between when it was an honest option and when you've taken it off the table, and only you really know that you have, maybe it still is a temptation. But that comfort, memento mori, that's what it is. It's soothing. I keep the same. I really thought for the longest time I wouldn't make it past my 20's. 27 club, it was on my mind, every year that led up to it. I think the humor in it to me is that when you would've attempted it, or did, you hadn't seen half the shit that you would in life. Haha. You were just getting started, speaking generally, but you know the worst was yet to come. I'm sure you do get that. Live and learn, I guess. That's why old folks laugh about the blackest stuff. Been there crossed that bridge lol, long ago, they thought they wouldn't make it either, but they did.

Coming back to this, after thinking. What I left just didn't feel complete. I really do know what you mean, about hanging around for the sake of curiosity and concern for others. I agree, though, I don't understand the reactions people have to that kind of death either. It's frustrating. Anyway, I guess I just want to say I do wish you the best in coping, whatever ways you do. I don't mean it in such a bleak way like life is all that bad all the time, but I think I understand trying to live with this thing lurking in the shadows at all times. Depressing, pain, some sense of loss. Like the last thing you said. I'm not sure - what to make of any of it, the fact of it being there, the reality of coping with it, or what ways people choose to escape it. I just know it's there. Sometimes you read things and they really do make you think. This post was really touching to me. That second photo, it's like a funeral procession of complete strangers for someone they'll never know anything about except that they never made it across. A life lost, a reason to stop, possibly an act of bravery as much as an unfortunate end. Maybe someone finally found their peace, the kind they never could in life. To imagine all the thoughts people have had while crossing that gorge... <3

I can't say that I understand or have any answers. I don't look at the world scientifically or really all that logically. I know that for me what started long ago as something maybe situational has turned into a permanent condition. I think it's for me because I try to understand the world emotionally because I do write songs ,poems, or whatever. That's how I try and relate to the world. I have come to realize that I'm very empathetic to not only people but all animals and the world in general. I used to envy those who don't view the world through that lens, but I gotta say that it's them for the most part that have dragged these feelings down into the dark because I can't relate to them nor them to me. They are the ones who demonize depression and suicide. It's easy to be clinical about life. It's easy to say "Why can't you be more positive? Why are you so negative?" It's a lonely feeling. I feel like most of the time I'm moving in slow motion while most people are moving fast just trying to get more shit. I wonder why they need more shit...
All I can say is thank mother nature for weed. <3


where have you gone my lovely intspekt? hug

  ·  last year (edited)

I'm sorry I took so long to respond, dogbun. Off the interwebs for a while. Needed to unplug and reboot. That's one of my favorite songs, btw. Nostalgic, melancholy sweet song that makes you see life like a movie. That's how it makes me feel, anyway lol. Wes Anderson has a good ear for that kind of thing. Hope you're well. Hugs and cookie for you too. :)

hai hugs im doing time off myself

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I feel like I recognize that bridge. The one outside Taos?

I can't handle walking out onto that bridge. Something about the ease with which I could just hop over the edge just freaks my body out. I get sweaty and twitchy and just need to sit down. It's really weird, because I don't consider myself afraid of heights.

Yes, that's the very bridge. I am afraid of heights myself but not to the point of having a panic attack. I could really just sit there for a long while staring over the edge, but the wind is so bad up there.

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