In Bed with Schizophrenia Edit 1, trueenigma

[tectak]

This madness never knows it’s mind, nor tempts me with it’s sanity.
I live beside the constant cliff, the sleep-fall step; the rising flood
makes sweat from fear. This is the way of doldrum day
and pointless night.

I turn towards unfocussed walls and slip the knot that tethers me;
then having loosed the Golden Cord I shuffle off the hangman’s hood
that kept me calm. Freed falcon, now, a bird of prey,
I take to flight.

Dark air beneath, above me… void; in wind-rushed circles, I am free
but for the wing that brushes close! The binding twin’s familiar blood
that pumps through me (a heartless pulse in corpse of clay),
will bleed me white.

So madness writes another play, another grasped reality.
I cannot hold on long enough to grip a dream, I never could
that transit make into the day. In feared false dawns we slide away
back to our plight.

Tectak
2013

[Truerenigma]

This madness never knows it’s mind, nor tempts me with it’s sanity.
I live beside the constant cliff, the sleep-fall step; the rising flood
makes sweat from fear. This is the way of doldrum day
and pointless night.

I turn towards unfocussed walls and slip the knot that tethers me;
then having loosed the Golden Cord I shuffle off the hangman’s hood
that kept me calm. Freed falcon, now, a bird of prey,
I take to flight.

Dark air beneath, above me… void; in wind-rushed circles, I am free
but for the wing that brushes close! The binding twin’s familiar blood
that pumps through me (a heartless pulse in corpse of clay),
will bleed me white. I think this would be better as " a heartless pulsing corpse of clay".

So madness writes another play, another grasped reality.
I cannot hold on long enough to grip a dream, I never could
"..a dream (I never could),
that makes that transit into day.

that transit make into the day. In feared false dawns we slide away comma

back to our plight.

Tectak
2013

Couple small observations.
I think think you can polish this one up a little more, If you really wanna make it shine.

---

Brings fearful sweats
Brings fear and sweat.
Brings sweat from fear.

[milo]

This madness never knows it’s mind, nor tempts me with it’s sanity.
I live beside the constant cliff, the sleep-fall step; the rising flood
makes sweat from fear. This is the way of doldrum day
and pointless night.

I turn towards unfocussed walls and slip the knot that tethers me;
then having loosed the Golden Cord I shuffle off the hangman’s hood
that kept me calm. Freed falcon, now, a bird of prey,
I take to flight.

Dark air beneath, above me… void; in wind-rushed circles, I am free
but for the wing that brushes close! The binding twin’s familiar blood
that pumps through me (a heartless pulse in corpse of clay),
will bleed me white.

So madness writes another play, another grasped reality.
I cannot hold on long enough to grip a dream, I never could
that transit make into the day. In feared false dawns we slide away
back to our plight.

Tectak
2013

I would prefer the word "its" to "it's" for possession.

[Truerenigma]

Wouldn't we all? Lol

[billy]

just an odd nit. is there such a word as doldrum, i always thought of it as doldrums? i wondered if we would be more entertaining than i, given the subject matter. the rhyme scheme works well and feels unobtrusive, wasn't keen on the last two line in the third stanza, together they feel a bit forced. maybe the last line is too expected.

thanks for the read.

This madness never knows it’s mind, nor tempts me with it’s sanity. its
I live beside the constant cliff, the sleep-fall step; the rising flood i like the c's and s sounds. a good image of being on the edge.
makes sweat from fear. This is the way of doldrum day
and pointless night.

I turn towards unfocussed walls and slip the knot that tethers me;
then having loosed the Golden Cord I shuffle off the hangman’s hood
that kept me calm. Freed falcon, now, a bird of prey,
I take to flight. i like the feel of astral travelling and how it juxtaposes with the title

Dark air beneath, above me… void; in wind-rushed circles, I am free
but for the wing that brushes close! The binding twin’s familiar blood
that pumps through me (a heartless pulse in corpse of clay),
will bleed me white.

So madness writes another play, another grasped reality.
I cannot hold on long enough to grip a dream, I never could
that transit make into the day. In feared false dawns we slide away
back to our plight.

Tectak
2013

[Truerenigma]

This madness never knows it’s mind, nor tempts me with it’s sanity.
I live beside the constant cliff, the sleep-fall step; the rising flood
makes sweat from fear. This is the way of doldrum day
and pointless night.

I turn towards unfocussed walls and slip the knot that tethers me;
then having loosed the Golden Cord I shuffle off the hangman’s hood
that kept me calm. Freed falcon, now, a bird of prey,
I take to flight.

Dark air beneath, above me… void; in wind-rushed circles, I am free
but for the wing that brushes close! The binding twin’s familiar blood
that pumps through me (a heartless pulse in corpse of clay),
will bleed me white.

So madness writes another play, another grasped reality.
I cannot hold on long enough to grip a dream, I never could
that transit make into the day. In feared false dawns we slide away
back to our plight.

Tectak
2013

[serge gurkski]

This madness never knows it’s mind, nor tempts me with it’s sanity.
I live beside the constant cliff, the sleep-fall step; the rising flood
makes sweat from fear. This is the way of doldrum day <<< doldrum(s?) is a bit bold as or for a metaphor, but I am not your gardener, unless --- ,-) No, skip that, please.
and pointless night.
<<< simply beautiful first stanza. It has been a long time I read something as concise as this.

I turn towards unfocussed walls and slip the knot that tethers me; <<< Mais oui: excellent, précis, concis et profond!
then having loosed the Golden Cord I shuffle off the hangman’s hood
that kept me calm. Freed falcon, now, a bird of prey,
I take to flight.<<< see above, Maybe just a tad too distanced from the narative?

Dark air beneath, above me… void; in wind-rushed circles, I am free (almost Vedic meter here (16 ? instead of 12 syllables) and just because you only some weeks you pointed out to me, that you find some of my lines overloaded or overweight, which is true), I point my finger now on this your line. ;-)
but for the wing that brushes close! The binding twin’s familiar blood
that pumps through me (a heartless pulse in corpse of clay),
will bleed me white. <<< heavy and to bore you more -simply Parnassian, which can be or bad, as you know.

So madness writes another play, another grasped reality. << like the colloquial,and so NOT Parnassian "So" ;-) to break it down and not deconstructing it really, let me show hesitant readers this:

Poetological termini technici 101:anthropomorphization of "madness"

I cannot hold on long enough to grip a dream, I never could
that transit make into the day. In feared false dawns we slide away
back to our plight. <<< very impressive wording

Tectak
2013

I am depressed because I find no nits You did that on purpose, right?
Well, then be proud of yourself.


--
That was the official part. So consider what follows entre parenthèses:
I stumbled only once while reciting your poem in my Bavarian Enlish:

I never could
that transit make into the day. << that is your style. I am aware of that. Maybe a non-native reader issue.


All in all fine stuff. Enjoyed the read.

And you don't know, that you have involuntarily gifted to me the word: "thether" because I will abuse it for a catchy title:

Tethered Hot Air Ballooning (copyleft SGurkski2013) --> Oops, too late now to protest. You'd loose at Straßburg.
but that to you might be (I don't know) too Bebop?
Thank you for doing my homework for me.

It's appreciated

serge who needs a drink now ;-)