Member Poem

It’s a long distance whisper … I’m not paranoid but on this day.
There is a dark gothic feel to where I am right now.
Just people who are rambling.
In the sense of looking for themselves or lost in some way.
The odds, the oddities, the weird synchronicities, coincidences.
Are these people talking behind my back.
This notion is mounting apace.
I’m being burdened by  this veiled whisper.
It mightn’t necessarily be negative.
It mightn’t  even be of any real consequence.
Oh sense of loss.
The word loss has a running  eerie resonance.
This otherworldly experience  isn’t just a figment.
The lady I adore is faraway.
Ours is a blue moon occasional link up.
It hasn’t dimmed our passion over the years despite the infrequency of our meetings.
She is a person like me who has an ear tilted for the inexplicable.
Thoughts are now flying.
I’m walking thru  peculiarity in a strangely familiar street.
Maybe ominous is not the real word.
The real world!
It’s that itch in my ear.
You’d think I’d need a hearing aid.
But hardly with this mildly sinister ordeal?
A plot of some kind as my unsteady steps assume a life of their own.
It’s a Saturday afternoon.
I’m this urban hobo in a daze.
Maybe the expression phase might “strike a chord.”
Is it this journey or broad search for a depth that seems illusory?
Guffaw, uproarious laughter, red faced giggles at me.
But at what one mystically ponders?
The location I’m presently exploring with these “hearings” as amorphous canvass.
Aloof but tangential muffled power.
Greyness suffuses everything and everyone I encounter.
My obsession with colour and structure lurk only within myself.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
It’s happening again.
I may have this extraordinary power of hearing.
Some might say “Imagination” is more apt.
When life events occur which may have that unlikely reach internal self probes take place.
But at heart significant others in my life have been informed of what is happening to me.
Yet a shudder as that sonic intrusion into my ear recommences.
Quite regularly too.

These meanderings of mine are not the inchoate musings of paranoia.
The most bizarre vibrations emanating from this day.
I have for the first time in my life this extremely heightened sixth sense.
Within the last six months it may appear that I have “LOST” everything to these hearings.
All the intrigue doing somersaults .., doing volte face, high risk surreptitious shadowy underhanders.
And meanwhile is there a convulsed conspiracy?
Despite this apparent weave of covert, undercover, spy thriller
who dunnitisms I laugh at each side of my mouth at it all.
Well, in intermittent spurts.
It may seem incredibly naive to guffaw when a myriad mosaic of fantastic upshots dash at rapid rail lightning speed presently.
There is one sense an ironic comic stand, maybe stand up comic amusement.
The hearing has been magnified by me not in any alarmist sense.
Nor is it a question of having exaggerated connections in other people's lives.
“Oh my goodness, I nearly walked into a poster promoting the amazing powers of the mind for both emotional depth and uproarious laughter.
Did something or things  actually tumble from a bulging carrier bag that had the forehead of a wrinkled brow?
And the incongruity.”
The notice I was actually getting now.
And there were people muttering oafish comments under their breaths.
They were pointing towards my feet.
One of the standers by had a disapproving smirk.
“Groans oozing corn about me being in deep conversation with myself.
They seem to say I must find myself so fascinating that I’m willing to risk my fascinating self.”
I find the above erroneous.
I heard someone say I must have left a lasting impression on that poster.
It was one way of getting in touch with myself.
I digress as I can despite seeing  the “laughing stock jibe” aspect of what is unfolding.
In both my eardrums!
“Watch where you are going … tho it mightn’t be as interesting as you perceive it to be."
Now I’m hearing things of a different kind and it appears to be at a very close range.
Amidst the deep worrying features of this I found an oafish aspect at hand.
Though the phrase peculiar is starting to resurface again and again.
“What’s wrong with this person?
He has left footprints and impressions everywhere he goes.
Reclusive or extrovert.”
I am definitely picking things up.
Almost like signals.
The deeper I go into this area.
But not just this area.
It’s now beginning to dawn on me.
There’s a mental shroud, envelope, cluster.
Sometimes you only notice things, continuities, curious and curiouser patterns.
“Have you something on your mind?
It’s an eye opener …
Just what did that man say?”
Oh, oh, that was just a passing stranger talking about me or so I thought.
In fact I’m half asleep.
In a comatose state.
Now with all these threads, voices in my ear, things going on inside my mind.
This ear of mine has become a vehicle of some kind, a form of transport.
It’s hardly only recently.
Imaginings are imaginings.
But it seems to me an interface, a pool, a stream where things cross.
Definitely these things, messages, attempts at contact or just as likely abortive shots at character assignation and gossip.
Evanescent strains with all these barely audible hints and tints.
“Did someone or something rub shoulders with me?
It seemed like a shadow.
Fleeting …. Was that a thief?”
Suddenly I saw a reflection of myself in a pool beside my feet.
Now there is a black crow staring at me from a nearly tree.
For whatever reason a sullen town exploded into life.
Maybe that was my interpretation of events unfolding.
Trains,  traffic, trams, now set in motion
Should I say commotion.
I hadn’t now the faintest notion.
Despite the rising decibel level the ears of mine now had a rush of chats I still struggled to contend with.

“I’m looking strange.
But then people are also looking strangely at me.
But is that the basis of my Quandry?"
I posed endless looped queries to myself.
The background noise in my eardrum.
Nothing novel about this.
Interactions may well be the trigger for this uncanny carrier of quirk.
These feeble beeps in my hearing organs have been unravelled by “others.”
Not just adjunct to what is a tormented individual not actually in any genuine sense tormented.
“Unusual looking human on a speed barrier breaking bike.
He hurled some comment
At the same time a flurry of giggles with an embedded insight occurred in my ear.”
This fit of giggles didn’t have any bearing on the passerby or did it?
Going round in circles that were endless rings extending out metaphorically to everything within sight.
Yet sound is a driver on this so called ominous though yet frivolous day.
Sounds and vibrations emanating from the most abstruse and implausible angle.
Sounds in my head.
Interface between things auditory and the mind enclosed but not yet closed.
“Oh dear …. A black crow squawking.
It has dropped my passport … at my feet.
Yes, it must have been one of the two items that slipped from my bag….
I just don’t believe it!”
A tap on the shoulder followed
“You are back where you were an hour ago.
Did you lose this by any chance?
A hearing aid!!”
The thing is I don’t use them.
At that point a light gust whisked away from me a letter with familiar handwriting on it.
“That might be the other item!
A love letter.”
I could have sworn I heard this lady’s voice chant my name in a blurred distance!
It just couldn’t be an unexpected flying visit from….!
Now I Am HEARING THINGS or maybe not.
Doubt if I’ll ever need a HEARING AID though.