Thursday, 30 March 2017

A poem - My Walls


Rainbows at Night - The Poems of Clive Culverhouse




The thing about poems, in my opinion, is that they’re intimate. Intimate to the poet. They’re like a window into how the poet is feeling and viewing things around him. A little slice of the poet’s outlook on life at the time of writing. So, to me, it’s almost like reading a diary or being trusted with a confidence. Poems are permission into that intimacy between writer and reader.

I’ve made no secret that I have suffered mental illness; I’ve been to the murky depths of depression and arguably I still walk the fine line between ok and not ok. So here’s one of my poems to suggest an insight and a brief glimpse into a little intimacy.





My Walls


These walls are my sanctuary

guarding me, looking after me

stopping me, restraining me

my prison but my safety

where I hide

where I rule

a brick cloak of invisibility

You can’t come in unless I let you in

I’m the master here

the prisoner here

the one who is suffering here

the one who is surviving here

A barrier, a security

my light house, my castle keep

an obstacle, a safety net

These are my walls

where I live

where I stay

Within these walls I’m stopping here




© 2017 Clive Culverhouse. All rights reserved. This poem is the property of Clive Culverhouse and may not be used without permission.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No comments:

Post a Comment