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twelve chimes

Hours crawl sluggishly over my skin
with epochal indifference.
Purple shadows never fade,
bruised moments of consequence,
intangible evidence of my faults,
my attempts to be invisible useless.
Unique impressions inflicted
upon every thing I touch,
every thing that touches me,
nothing is secluded.

Earth, air, fire, water, spirit;
eternal quintessential elements,
profound constituents of essence
are unable to synchronize.
One element is consistently missing,
the definition of a fatal deficiency.

Twelve chimes herald new beginnings.
Hours before dawn is scheduled to arrive
darkness begets displacement
despite the constant face of time,
such fragile hands controlling fate.

Through those long hours I linger,
my pulse drowning the refrain of chimes
caught forever between midnight and dawn

— RSScheerer, Dec 27, 2007

About This Poem

About the Author

Region, Country: Near Springfield, Illinois, USA

Favorite Poets: Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allen Poe, Merrit Malloy

More from this author

Critiques

weirdelf

weirdelf

18 years 5 months ago

This touched me somewhere deep, strange yet familiar

and profoundly uncomfortable. The lines "bruised moments of consequence, intangible evidence of my faults, my attempts to be invisible useless. Unique impressions inflicted upon every thing I touch," especially. May I humbly suggest you revisit this poem at sunset on the Winter Solstice next year, it may add another dimension to those dark hours. cheers, Jess
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

18 years 5 months ago

I will definitely take your suggestion

and revisit this poem at the aforementioned time and place. This comes from a darker time; a time when I often felt defeated and unable to face another sunrise. Insomnia is still a frequent companion, but she also breeds many of my best works. Odd how that happens, isn't it? ~ Ronda
P

purplemoondoll

18 years 5 months ago

Purple shadows never fade

Love this line - that's obvious :-) There is lots to see here. The images are breathtaking . I particularly like these lines:- Earth, air, fire, water, spirit; eternal quintessential elements, profound constituents of essence are unable to synchronize. One element is consistently missing, the definition of a fatal deficiency. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this - thank you. Kaz It's impossible to smile on the outside without feeling better on the inside.
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

18 years 5 months ago

My thanks

for such glowing comments regarding this piece, Kaz. Considering the mood that inspired this one, your words are an affirmation that it was worth writing. ~ Ronda
M

meic

18 years 5 months ago

I’m sure I could easily

I'm sure I could easily find a quotable gem in every stanza, and the poem as a whole is [and I use this word very rarely] powerful. Altogether a very fine poem. Mike Photo: Me, September 7th 2007 - my 66th Birthday. Guernsey, Channel Islands, UK For my own orginal graphic art please visit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/7911705@N07
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

18 years 5 months ago

Humble thanks, Mike

I hesitated to post this piece because it is such an obvious glimpse into my soul. Finding such positive reactions to these words makes the risk worth taking. ~ Ronda
B

barbsdad2003

18 years 5 months ago

Such a little thing ...

and perhaps a bit nitpicky technical: I like that you made it (twice) every and thing rather than everything. Reflects language insight so rarely seen. I am constantly amazed at the bad writing that gets published and sits on library shelves. At times shocking. Sometimes it's so bad I'm left to wonder "Where have all the good writers gone?" Thanx for a profoundly delicious read. As uncomfortable as it may be for some to read in this comment, I think your bipolar situation, if I can call it that, has greatly---though sometimes terribly painfully, I'm sure---enriched your life. Thanx again, Chuck
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

18 years 5 months ago

Chuck

Until you pointed it out to me, I actually had not noticed that small detail. It happens to be a peeve of mine; I also refuse to use contractions within my work, unless it is absolutely unavoidable. I know that it works for many writers, but it just never feels right for me. It is so good to hear that I am not the only one who reads some published work and thinks, "They published this?" as I receive my rejection notices. (Although there have been a decent amount of acceptances as well lately, thank goodness.) I'm very honored that you enjoyed this poem. You are correct in assuming that my bipolar disorder often has been viewed as a source of my creativity. There was a time when medicine was something to avoid because of the fear that it would rob me of that spark. Sometimes I still worry, but I'm learning to work with balance. Thank you again for such a wonderful, insightful review. ~ Ronda
S

Snpdrgon

18 years 3 months ago

Most of my life was spent

Most of my life was spent with those very hours my enemy. I seemed to have made peace with them somehow, and I'm not even sure when it happened much less why or how. I won't wish them away for you because I know the darkness and the bleakness can inspire great work. I will only wish that someday they lose the power they should never have had over you in the first place, and that you find peace when that happens. xxx
Janice Pearce

Janice Pearce

17 years 11 months ago

Ronda

Again, another in-depth piece that was written with strands from your soul. Thanks for sharing with us~
D

DarkinAZ

17 years 11 months ago

I may be wrong

but it feels to me as though, it's the cries of someone who just can't sleep,lying there in bed as the seconds slowly tick one hour at a time. -Insomnia- Sincerely, Mark Oops, now that I read the comments I see that reference. Great write, good job on Evo spot, Mark
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

17 years 11 months ago

thank you, Mark

Yes, I am a horrible insomniac with a habit of clockwatching. Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate it! Best, Ronda
D

DarkinAZ

17 years 11 months ago

Yup!

May I suggest watching something with Ben Stein, that guy will put anyone to sleep. Best wishes and sweet dreams, Mark
weirdelf

weirdelf

17 years 11 months ago

I have never been diagnosed bipolar.

But the beauty and elegance of your words inspire me. I am think I might be depressive with a touch of bipolar. Nevertheless the labels shit me. I am Jess, you are you and, if I may be so self-aggrandising, we are both ourselves and valuable. You screw up less than me. You are the most valuable person on the site. cheers, Jess
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

17 years 11 months ago

Jess

As much as I understand your loathing of labels, I might suggest that you are actually Bipolar Type II, as am I. You think of them as labels ... to me it was a name for a faceless enemy. Something tangible that I could finally fight; no more nameless darkness with the advantage of calling my name in the night. I could respond, drag it out into the light, force it to face me after all these years. We are both ourselves and valuable. I am Ronda and you are Jess, we just happen to be ourselves with an extra weight upon our shoulders. I don't screw up less than you, Jess. I have learned to hide this side of me - was forced to do so after a lifetime of being told it was all in my head - little did they know how correct they were. Most valuable person on this site? I appreciate your confidence in me, my dear friend, but we are all valuable in our unique ways. Together we form a diverse community filled with a myriad of personalities and stories. I feel privileged to be given the opportunity to be a part of such a world. my best, Ronda
S

Synchro

17 years 11 months ago

A very introspective poem

I do like the double implication of the fine word, "quintessential" here very cleverly applied to the elements (with your addition of 'spirit' to the traditional four). I am intrigued with what the "fatal deficiency" might mean, and a clue might be helpful to the reader in embracing the poem...particularly where you express a desire to be invisible, since you begin with an almost morbid fascination for it, and for the arrest of time. Ronda, there are a lot of unanswered questions in this poem, which do not make it bad, but could be dealt with more than just obliquely. Yours in peace, (Cynthia McKinney for president) Synchro
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

17 years 11 months ago

I see you found twelve chimes

This piece contains a combination of secrets, Synchro. For the most part, each is obvious if you know me or read my other work. During the darker times of my depression and insomnia, writing was my catharsis. This piece could be considered the epitomy of my insomnia, anxiety, depression ... and subsequent feelings of failure due to all of it. Mark mentioned somewhere (I think it was Rett's poem, Bi-Polar) that he separates himself from the disorder. I can identify with that; my habit is to consider this darker side of me an enemy. During my weaker moments, it always felt as if there was some essential element missing from my genetic existence; a piece that had been forgotten. I was also suicidal on more than one occasion, hence the reference to a fatal deficiency and the desire to be invisible. This all ties in with the desire for time to stop. In this case, time could be metaphorical for several things, depending on the reader's perception ... life, pain, insomnia ... take your pick. Probably more of an explanation that you needed or expected, but there it is. This piece was written around four in the morning after three days and a total of five hours of sleep. There are no better words to express the summation of those days. Best, Ronda
S

Synchro

17 years 11 months ago

Thanks for those comments, Ronda

......and I do know something about biplarity, since it exists in several forms in my own family (and I lost one son to it)....in fact, I may well have been subject to it myself, although my own victory was not achieved through drugs.......so I very much appreciate what you tell me, here. Yours in peace, (Cynthia McKinney for president) Synchro
R

rider68

17 years 11 months ago

Hi Ronda

If we could bottle thoughts and comments, what a great cure, this could possibley be, Reading people's thoughts and personal challenges makes, Well, some how makes life, seem....not quite as bad, I think the truth is we see our own battles yet, in perspective of others, ours seems somewhat trivial at times, I use the word "ours" as a generalisation, To the outside world, I hardly ever converse, or should i say never, converse on a personal level, Strangley i have become very insular, very privite, I have read somewhere of your prozac days, "Been there" Feb 1991, attacked, 13 days on life support, 4yrs stolen, left for 6mnths paritally paralised, became a recluse, for nearly a year, The road back was a real challenge, But time is a healer, Although changed, I stopped looking back, You know... what could have been..., Its neither, here nor there, here is were i am, I'm sorry, heart & thoughts take over, It's just the ref to bipolar, I never gave my self a lable, nor did the doctors, Wasn't that familar with the term Bipolar, yet i have been that most my life,.....As long as i can remember extreme mood swings, great highs and lows, always thought it was a growing, maturing issue, I throw myself into something...anything that holds my attention, sleep, never been great, after the attack, down to 1hr per day, catnaps in the chair, Now, between 4-6 hrs, I'm sorry, i've said to much, but i have re-read your poem.... and it takes on a completey different take, Your work, thoughts and knowledge, is greatly received here, by many, Greatest Respects & Thanks to you. Peter ~~~~~~~~~Creativity Is to think more efficiently~~~~~~~~~~
RSScheerer

RSScheerer

17 years 11 months ago

Peter

One of the reasons that I write and speak so openly about the bipolar disorder and the depression is because too many people are afraid to do so. I was one of them. Not only was I afraid to talk about it, I wasn't even allowed to admit it existed. My ex-husband simply refused to acknowledge it as a serious problem. Gives you a good idea of why he's an ex, doesn't it? Still, it took me 12 years to get away from him and find someone who offered me the opportunity to be myself and seek the help I so desperately needed. I lost two very good friends upon being diagnosed three years ago. They fell prey to the "label" of bipolar and must have thought that our friendship would be far too demanding. Funny. I was the same person I had been the nine years they knew me, but suddenly they couldn't take it. It may be a label to some, but to me it was a revelation - a face and name for the demon. Some people are loathe to accept the medications. I tried life without them. It was not a great place to be. What works for some does not work for all, and I understand that, but I'm not judgmental of those who refuse medication - despite the fact that I have been judged by many for taking it myself. It took years to find the correct meds. As you may know, each anti-depressant takes a minimum of six to eight weeks to get into your system before you even know if it's going to help. Side effects are hell, and weaning yourself from one drug to begin another is worse. One year I dumped everything, swore I would never take another pill. That was the year I had three suicide attempts and finally admitted that I could not do this alone. I'm good now; not perfect, but good. Some days I look at those bottles by the sink and feel like a failure. I often find myself wondering if they have changed who I am, not just how I behave. But I remember the recesses of my own mind. If there is ever any doubt, there are scars and hundreds of words in journals and poetry to remind me just how dark and dangerous those places can be. Don't ever feel as if you've said too much. I am always willing to listen. Support from people like you and others reminds me that I should post more of my work; not so much because it is great poetry, but because it is honest and raw and might help someone who feels as alone as I once did. Thank you, Peter. Please, private message me if you ever want to talk. My best, Ronda