S.O.A.P.H.I.A - AUTHOR S.Z.BEST - SONGS OF A POET - HOMELESS IN AUSTRALIA - THE ECHOED MIND 9P

P. 1 of 2 A Word from the Author - 07 June, 2022 Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Trauma plagued my life with fear, with devastating effects, I want to forget What I witnessed, I do very much regret Threatened by people, I would not expect Threatened with serious injury, neglect, even death Intense fear felt, more so helplessness known The horror of the scenes, disorganised my life The persistence, re-experiencing, the intrusiveness of images My perception not my own, so I kept my distance Dreams plagued me with nightmares Reliving it all, while I sleep The exposure, so constant, internally awakening What resembles in the days, I pull away I pull away from myself too, avoiding any re-occurrence I still remember who I was before, but I can't get back I cause more problems in my life, because, now I can't trust love I avoid people, places which cause any recollection, can this be undone? I need to change what I can't always remember in detail So much recollection over so many years, builds up fears I feel estranged from everyone else, including myself I can't expect I can be anyone else, but heartbroken I have difficulty falling asleep – sometime staying awake In other times, I remember forcing change in me What happened then was an agitation, much like coming off an addiction I startle easily, and don't think anyone loves me – knows me I am afraid to love, I feel so stuck I am afraid to love, I am stuck If only I could overcome the memories Some I caused myself, trying to help someone else, lost control P. 2 of 2 I get claustrophobia when I feel like I am spinning in the past I never feel like I am winning, what I have learned to hide Still it is beside me, so I keep to myself, thinking I don't want other's to know If only I could heal, and not be afraid to show my weakness If other's could understand, my life feels not simple As I crave to be freed, wiping the slate clean, and feel clean – I pray If people understood, they would hopefully be patient and not try to heal me with words P.T.S.D picks up on cues, you're being judged, when really other's try to help me feel loved I need to remember the good in all the parts of my life, so the focus is on this Memories fluctuating – memories of being – trying to concentrate on more good in my experiences – there are plenty The more I remember the good, the better I feel – the more I am willing to overlook other's cues It saves me too, having me feel I can be anyone, anything I want, it's not too late – so concentrate in the glimpses, and let yourself feel loved By Sussan Z. Best SONGS OF A POET - HOMELESS IN AUSTRALIA P. 1 of 4 Friday, 24thOctober, 2008/9 Connivers are intriguing to watch, but are also always perilously thinking crossing someone, and with this thought, they have a right, like scammers What they do is but teach people to think that it is the only way to get ahead, so they, project just that, which stems from the facts they create with the fallacies they make They come in many shapes and colours and sizes, and dispel many odd plots leading to their own self-gratification while watching the clock ticking, dreaming of pathetic profits The underhandedness, is a mannerism needing to be understood, not ignored, for otherwise they are regulating the upper hand, so seen as superior They give themselves special permissions, controlling people, want to think they are not ordinary as they project I am Wilfully doing so, has my gut under exposure, a sense of why can't people be more genuinely fair But in using these words, like fair and good, and honest – in their own minds think they are, while projecting they are not They – scheme, and learn to scheme from schemers they admire for the gold they wear, their dress and style, which they accumulated from conniving In that what deflects in myself, feeling how I must explain everything, or some conniver may say, you are not honest, is scheming my life I ask then, what is next – I ask myself, if that is the accepted lot in the way to get ahead, why do I feel immoral thinking about it They think ethics are exploitations to keep the general public in place, and so want dearly to think they are special P. 2 of 4 Playing the same games, over and over, crippling my way into life, especially as a female, condemned to take it all Connivers I cannot seem to tell the truth and be listened to and understood when only a few words are allowed after they stop talking, they then say, you do not speak, and I look back at them silently thinking I see you scheme in action… Each person I meet twists my words to mean what they think, and about who I am, from their own personality and perspective,their own mind within the limits they are, yet some go farther… Discrimination loiters in places where it ought not to be and misleads – I too see it as a revered discrimination leading to the pits I am listened to but by deafened ears only allowed two words; no one appears with assurance wanting to agree with that loss appeared who with those records written in their words in my name: Cantankerous people dogged with lies treat me like a stranger in my own mind: headstrong had it all their own way tried to derail me Paid to twist the turns of evidence, interpreting, then debased inclination with a characteristic trait endeavouring Stiff necked unheralded, I surrendered: reluctance is censured inside my core as a breathe held: deplorable looks were wearing veils yielding said… The essence said of the bigger people over the smaller is an epilogue, I shan't win, - and where winners are thought is in the losers mind applaud Contrived in words: left out of the meaning… and Dictated the plan; bought the truth splintered P. 3 of 4 Bloody fingers are cleaned after the fact Pronouncing the managed planned to bring the truth down and out-lay false fact Conniving the actions of the decent to fail and fall into poverty Pretending the words in your mouth is not spent savings at all Ignorance birthed by one holding a legal pen denoting words said,she shall never win Connivers created a mood of failure to the point of my exhaustion, piping a tune Justice is preached to the poor, prescribed and beseeched, only if you can afford it No justice thus for the poor, and who would yawn is bored before the breeding of the rich The underhand, knows what the upper hand wants, so many become connivers with tricks Pay a pretty some to bully, the truth is out of the honest ones: the conniver won The law is too complicated for just one person to read in its powers, taking lines and leaving others in the hours The time needed to listen to the truth, is contingent on your language skills, timing hours’ and your skills What I say is never believed as the truth without evidence's findings told before the rotting fruits, they make holes Conniving people know all this: and use it by perjure of missing evidence, with prejudice forcing my witness inkling I learn to swallow and digest it The act as normal, learn to me normal, go to schools Get out and see they have skills and they need not stand in line Connivers – are so many, these days there are plenty P. 4 of 4 They call them scammers, in business and law, I'll never win at all By Sussan Best A Word from the Author: 14 June, 2022 You, who do not understand, who think more capable of knowledge, I say, be silent So many people in my life have disturbed me, mistreated me, mostly men, I say, be silent and go away I am absorbed into this life from you all, and your sense of delight I am poor, but I get bored these days, I do from you Nevertheless, the disturbances of these men who want to be my authority have caused me, P.T.S.D, disturbing my life for ever-more., but I recognise you and what you do. 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