October in My Soul

[Pix]

October has long been a month I loved and feared. So much that was bad in my life happened in October, and I used to have terrible "October nightmares" as a result. These nightmares were so bad that I'd wake up in the full grips of PTSD and have to search everywhere in the house, sometimes with a melee weapon (I wouldn't allow myself to carry a gun while I was freaked like that, but the temptation was there) and unable to sleep for hours after.

But good things happened, too, and it was the month I was born (but also feel it's the month I will one day die in). I love Autumn and Autumn foods and Halloween and October parties...

Here's a poem I wrote years ago. It's on the long side but it explains it perfectly (IMO), though it includes mentioning the terrible October nightmares I used to suffer which I haven't suffered (other than a couple of nights or so just to remind me to be glad) for the last couple of years.

October in My Soul

Sometimes I wake up
the monsters just beyond my vision
reaching, grasping, clawing,
my nerves burning in terror
of the past resurrected

Even worse are those times I awaken
feeling empty
feeling nothing
thinking life is loss
for I've lost those I love and myself
and yet if I hadn't
I'd have lost that which I am
and those that I love now
All that is life
requires sacrifice

And beside my lover tonight
I dream of two foxes loving
in spring flowers that ends in Autumn
one fox killed by merciless huntsmen
as one fox heals alone through winter
Spring reveals a new lover
as the fox dances in joy but asks:
will the huntsmen return?
I awaken and realize I am that fox.

October is the month I love and dread the most
with its parties and nightmares
with its joyful laughter in my life
and the piercing screams
that shatter my past and my sleep

I admire the colorful dying world,
love the hint of chill in the air
but dread the tragedy I sense
riding in the wind

October is all around me
Joy and Terror dance within me
As it has been
so shall it be again
the seasons turn
the passions burn
stoking me sweetly
burning me to ashes

October reminds me that the joys of life are not without its toll
The death and loss are our constant companions to life and love
As we wander through a cornucopia
of hazy mirages and shadowy images
Life and Death, Day and Night in eternal dance
The living surrounded by ghosts of the pasts and the future
Ghosts calling my name from within my haunted soul

I was born in October
and surely I will die then, too
From the witch's cauldron we all sprang
and to the cauldron shall we all return
the cauldron of the One we all can't help
but to revere and fear
The witch of my cauldron is named October.

And as I join the witch in laughter,
the nightmares spring
from the shadows within me
haunting me by the knowledge that they have
their real life counterparts
as these echoes of the past
once again pounce

I hold on, I hold on
for I have felt their fangs before
and yet I remain
visible and invisible scars my badges
my pride, my shame
I know morning will come,
frosty and promising
and if it doesn't
then the horrors will no longer have me to haunt
dying with me
or leaving me to find other game

Though I wonder then, should I die
if I'd ever haunt others
just as others have haunted me?
Or would I finally be able to truly rest
the nightmares no more,
my dance and my mosh ended?

--B. Jane Cochran, 10-23-2006

Btw, I've written a poem or two that rhymes, but wow those can be groan worthy (for some reason my twisted sense of humor asserts itself). There was one that, IIRC, rhymed without being cringe worthy. I'll see if I can find it later.

[Bookworm]

A great poem Pix, full of raw emotion and haunting imagery. I prefer this type of abstract poetry; much easier to write than poems that rhyme, I find. It's like reading someone's dreams (or nightmares)