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  #1  
Old 08-28-2007, 11:28 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Wink Poem

my gratitude to those who helped me see into my words.



Elation

Though I walk in what once held my memories
Seemingly only its shell exists.

Thoughts which surface questioned
whether of its or another’s, not certain,

then, of what was this thought –
strains as it drains as if diluted
for the sake of distraction from direction
from whence it was discovered.

So thorough misdirection
Lost in an inflection lacking cohesion,
And while adhesion dissipates,
One anticipates confusion,
As fused between broken thoughts,
As pause to clarify, the fabric of it rots--
Its stench, putrid elusive phantom.

Was it led astray strolling down a path,
One thought to have know so well,
Could it have taken a wrong turn --
As stomach starts to churn.

But of this place known so well,
Of when and where, could not tell—
Fell, with the force of a mighty wind,
Filling the sail of this vessel once adrift--
its course seen true,
As if all it knew,
Once brilliantly askew--
Orderly and new.

Mighty as the wind,
Silence settles in,
For whilst it knew of its course,
Unforeseen brief force,
exhausts disproportionately--

Perception of elation from deception recognition,
Retributions from condition built this position,
Which seems too cause arbitrary rhyme,
Would this be its diary?

Todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #2  
Old 08-29-2007, 02:14 AM
annie annie is offline
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what is blowing in that wind?
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  #3  
Old 08-30-2007, 05:41 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Synaptical debris? lol, it sounds about right. i do love metaphors it would seem

toad
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #4  
Old 09-19-2007, 11:25 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Gallows of Seizureland

Trapdoor beneath my feet,
Cloaked from what is seen,
This fall, quite a startle,
Neck snaps leaving behind
What truly was, for what thus shall be.

My brain fried thus,
Though lacking my behest—
Confess I must, bereft in fits.

Forged attempts, brittleness,
Scatter as ice crushed,
Reeling shards carry sense,
Splitting endlessly, multitudes
Of but one.

My mind thus void of cohesive thought
Tumbles through space—
As an asteroid misdirected,
While pulled against its will,
Skimming an upper atmosphere,
Skipping back into space,
Singed from the encounter,
Reeling beyond ability to track nary a moment,
Whist pulled upon another celestial body—
Combust as friction tears body and soul from its seams,
Till what remains,
Driven into ground,
Pulverized evidence—
Dust fills the air,
As my eyes open to face
Cohesion between melted, remaining lines of thought.

Redundant recover, abundant regression—
Leaving these forged impressions.

My very foundation crumbled,
Eroding, seemingly, nearly away,
The twist which held me down,
Leaves nary a trace, less its mileage.

Words flood in filling voided mind,
Clamoring over its wreckage,
While wheels start to spin,
This mind run quite thin,
Synapse loosed this,
Neuronic docked tale.


Todd



I felt inspired today by a friend which has me here placing this poem before you. I think it is one I posted before, cannot imagine I would not post one of my favorites… though as many are now missing and I forgot to post many others; hope you liked it and do not live it.

toad/todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism

Last edited by Toad; 09-19-2007 at 11:27 PM. Reason: forgot formatting
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  #5  
Old 10-10-2007, 01:48 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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after reading the current list of all types of seizures on the Epilepsy OntarioWEBSITE LINK and finding "Alice in wonderland syndrome" , i had to post this poem, though i am sure i had before, that was a long time ago and they are gone.



Alice

My mind begins descent,
Crumbling mass,
Resistance nearly spent,
Though trying to find flotation
Whilst reeling perceived rotation,
To stay afloat in tidal crash,
Not focus within contempt
Rather, sparing thoughts as are lent,
From perceived thin air.

As I crumble, fall within,
Cataclysmic strains shred all I have know,
Drawn and quartered,
Staggering trip rips moments wiped from time.

Forged attempts yet brittle,
Scatter; as ice in an abrupt end, in lengthy fall,
Reeling shards carry multiples of sense,
Splitting endlessly,
Multitudes of one.

Unfolds of what remembered
Though surely not known,
Segmented disbursement,
Tumbling disarray
Of ones life displayed.

Wishing to love as one does long,
Feel another spring with song,
Stop these storms which wash away,
Understanding within the torn, tattered
Sending mind between thoughts—scattered.

I do not see how one explains
When one does not hold their reins--
Brain rattling its cage,
Enraged battle, besieged mind,
Helm forgotten, as well not at it,
Fortitude misguided beneath regurgitated thought,
Slaps of force knocking defenselessly,
Disappointment as the road now seen,
Paves its way synaptic ally sporadically.

It is said that love can endure
Though what of love so young and pure
Which cannot see the horizon through the fog
Born of moisture in thought?

When these storms inside cloud my mind,
A down pour saturation takes my memory,
Clinging to whatever may still float,
Hindrance floods throughout senselessly,
From depths unfathomed slides what is me,
Whilst what is me; motionless.

Lacking words which feel encompassing
While desiring to relay
The metaphorical ground in which I lie
The roll with which that plays—
Gallows at the gates of partialism.
Hands firmly behind our backs
Door opening, elusive,
The lack of landing known quite well.

Our metaphoric rope

A nuisance around my innocence,
Binds me to not knowing when,
Freedoms of mind and body to be taken.

This slice in time winks out,
Parallel to what is and not,
Mindfully stepping the gang plank,
The fall seemingly,
Yet to come.

Very foundation crumbles,
Eroding core away,
Yet in twists hold of me down.

This path not contiguous with tide,
Falling endlessly in a wonderland of
Startled beginning with each flip of a page—
Chapters tearing space,
Characters-- time itself.
As if from a book,
Not of ones self,
Though not knowing ones self,
Or of one.

What is, oozes into background
Whilst something askew takes the stage,
Phantom senses lead astray --
Shards of light crack my sight,
Burnt excrement wafts,
Nothing silent anymore.

Attention broken whilst time stops.
Stutter to a start,
Breaks thoughts into this plight.

Cannot win the battle in its rage,
Pounds of me into the ground,
Startle fall from cliff not seen; flight,
Each beat of my heart turns a page,
Will I live to see me found?
If I do would I be me?

Land amidst befuddlement,
Lacking retainable fundamental tracking,
Puddle from whence brain was wrung,
Cools thy feet while thoughts deplete,
On evaporative rails tracking,
Broken sense.

Todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #6  
Old 10-10-2007, 03:45 PM
jingle jingle is offline
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Default What time is it, what time is it?

"Land amidst befuddlement,
Lacking retainable fundamental tracking,
Puddle from whence brain was wrung,
Cools thy feet while thoughts deplete,
On evaporative rails tracking,
Broken sense."

Todd - A while back when my CPs meant sudden .... well, I started to write "black out" but it wasn't black out .... it was simply gone. When I woke up, maybe 60 or 90 seconds later, perfectly still in exactly the same place, ALL I could think about was, "What time is it?" and couldn't do or think anything else until I learned what time it was. And, sadly, a digital clock didn't help me at all. I could not read that...... It had to be a regular time piece so I could simply remember where the hands were long enough to be able to figure out what it all meant.
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Old 10-16-2007, 10:23 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Quote:
Originally Posted by jingle
"Land amidst befuddlement,
Lacking retainable fundamental tracking,
Puddle from whence brain was wrung,
Cools thy feet while thoughts deplete,
On evaporative rails tracking,
Broken sense."

Todd - A while back when my CPs meant sudden .... well, I started to write "black out" but it wasn't black out .... it was simply gone. …
I have used quite nearly verbatim, the same description at doctors office. Started to state “black out” also though corrected with same; simply gone. So now I wonder if you heard same responses from this that I did, such as “that must have been real scary” to which I had to reply “no, in fact I am certain the concept of fear was beyond my grasp at those times”.

Quote:
Originally Posted by jingle
...When I woke up, maybe 60 or 90 seconds later, perfectly still in exactly the same place, ALL I could think about was, "What time is it?" and couldn't do or think anything else until I learned what time it was. And, sadly, a digital clock didn't help me at all. I could not read that...... It had to be a regular time piece so I could simply remember where the hands were long enough to be able to figure out what it all meant.
In those days I was using the computer to help get my brain back on track. I had a document page always on top and almost always found it fairly quick. It has all the basic information to help “reboot my brain” if you will. Now the irony is that the digital clock did not work for me either. Even more strangely has been the recent inability to read analog clock/watches.

Brains are strange…

Glad you see into the poem; that descriptor is one of my favorites. Thank you.

All my best
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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  #8  
Old 10-16-2007, 11:11 PM
jingle jingle is offline
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"So now I wonder if you heard same responses from this that I did, such as “that must have been real scary” to which I had to reply “no, in fact I am certain the concept of fear was beyond my grasp at those times”."

No ... I've never had the “that must have been real scary” response. I can't remember anyone except my neuro who ever listened to a description.
Many thanks to YOU for listening.
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  #9  
Old 11-04-2007, 04:32 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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(((Jingle)))
Quote:
Originally Posted by jingle
"So now I wonder if you heard same responses from this that I did, such as “that must have been real scary” to which I had to reply “no, in fact I am certain the concept of fear was beyond my grasp at those times”."

No ... I've never had the “that must have been real scary” response. I can't remember anyone except my neuro who ever listened to a description.
Many thanks to YOU for listening.

It is interesting that most who do not have E cannot listen or will not; seemingly more than they are willing to handle. The few who flat out asked me “what are they like”, either related to me or children or in very few cases close friends; never had a doctor ask me that.

My pleasure and likewise; thank you.

Here is an older one of mine, back in the day before dx.



Eye of the storm


body weeps, soul in despair,
tripping through broken time,
unable to detect whether I am.
Distraught inside, bent warping mind,
Powerless to a decreasing ability to defend
Against an enemy I cannot see.
Taken without notice, return with startle, bouncing in and out of what, I cannot make out.
With each stroke I return with far less, to defend becomes hopeless as the lights go out again.
Partial returns as partial takes, mauled till I knew not who, nor what I am.
Simply more complex than any partial diagnosis,
The soul not treated thus weeps of its despair.

todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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Old 11-04-2007, 07:03 PM
Toad Toad is offline
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Fissure

As he slowly slips into the abyss
Which once held his mind,
Enveloped vacuum --
Illuminates convex interpretive guidance,
Propelling spiral projections
Born of perplexed notions,
Lacking cohesive constituent
From whence it commenced.

Contorted thought senses of self --
Bound to a progressive twist
Without gravity to slide down from nor,
Progressing time for a foreseeable end,
Whilst ecliptically unaware,
Stumbling forward.

Rebound repeats quakes,
Stuttered perceived certainties,
Memory shuffled into bits in pieces.

Beaten by slide of thought,
Sought alternate composure,
Composting notions in action,
Akin to a robbery of faculties,
Teasing one moment,
Till equates in hours.

Todd
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“The memory of no memory; what a way to forget..” toadism
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