POETRY

Living expressions of inner work. Offered as a glimpse of the process towards radical self-acceptance, healing, and growth.

Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Notice Me

 

I want you
To notice me.

Not for what I have done.
Not for the money I’ve made.
Not even for my art.

No.
I want you to notice me.

Me.

The man behind the artifice.
The man behind the smile.
The man behind the mask.

The man writing these words,
Knowing full well that you will never see them.

The man waiting for change,
Knowing full well that you are stuck in your ways.

The man who’s desperately seeking acknowledgement from a dry well. 

I want you
To notice me.

But I know you won’t.

How could you?

You, who was never there.
You, who looked the other way.
You, who set impossible standards.

You, who never wanted anything to do with me.

Isn’t it funny that despite all of this,
I still want you
To notice me?

Notice me.

Me.

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Rate Me

 

Rate me,
Review me,
Like me,
Sub me,
Share me,
View me,
And make sure to come back to me.

Or else,
The algorithms will see through me.
They won’t show me
They won’t grow me
And thus,
No one will know me.

So,
If you like me,
And want to encourage me,
And see more of me,
Do this one small thing for me.

Rate me,
Review me,
Like me,
Sub me,
Share me,
View me,
And make sure to come back to me.

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Neurosis

 

I’m so neurotic
That I attempt
To dissect
Said neurosis
In real time

If you
Find me
Staring into the abyss
Chances are
I’m stuck in a loop
Debating
Against myself
Attempting to ascertain
The best way to relax

Knowing that
Undertaking that very attempt
Is itself not helpful
Yet I’m nonetheless
Unable to stop
Not until
I know
I have exhausted all possibilities
Of contemplation

And in the process
Exhausted myself
Enough
So that I can sleep
Long enough
To do it all again
Tomorrow

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Let Me In

 

Let us begin.

Our goal is to
Discover the linchpin
The block, that once removed,
Will enable you to win.

We must delve deep within
And not shy away from sin.
We must coax out your grin
Then pull-in an alternate spin.
We must find a stand-in
For the thoughts that cause tailspin.

New thinking patterns
To underpin.
New psychological armour installed;
A thick skin.

Our sessions will won’t be easy,
Memories will cause chagrin.
But they will pass and you’ll be set free,
No longer needing to live as a shut-in.

With my help your mind will be sharp,
A vault secured from break in.

With my help your moods will change,
Your mind a heavenly akin.

With my help your resilience will rise,
Enabling you to take it on the chin.

No longer needing copious amounts of gin.
No longer lamenting a body not thin.
No longer hostage to the trauma din.

Just a new acceptance of your reality,
One with safeguards built-in.

All you need to do
To begin,
Is say yes and
Let me in.

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

Just A Fiction

 

My entire sense of self
Is supplanted
By that one undefinable feeling
Of a nothingness with substance

A heavy emptiness
Filled
With a choking void

The screaming silence
Of a statue
Suffocating under glass

Even in the moment
When his hand
Struck my face
It didn’t feel real

Even in the moment
When she exposed herself
And approached me
It didn’t feel real

Nothing has ever felt real
Except the feeling of unreality

My entire life
Feels like a play
Just words in a book
Only real
When it’s read
And then quickly forgotten
The trauma downplayed
Because we both know
it’s just a fiction
Created for your entertainment

 
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Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips Poetry, A Requiem Zachary Phillips

I Fear Your Apology

 

What would you like from me?
What would you like to see?

Perhaps the perfect child for me to be?
Or perfection for me to embody?
Or for me to be on my knees and plea?
Or perhaps a sign of glee for every statement you decree?

If I were older,
I would flee.

I long to be carefree. Instead I’m stuck, as a perpetual draftee, with the esprit, of one who can foresee with accuracy how the future will play out under your marquee.

I fear your anger spree.
I fear your birch tree.
I fear your apology.

I fear your beastly personality, screaming ‘let me’, while spittle oozes down your goatee.

So,
with everything you warrantee,
this little pee wee is forced to agree.
Forced to embody the inner nobody,
mute the enquiry,
deny the depths of reality,
and become your humble devotee.

Here,
I made you some tea. Just as you like it, with the perfect amount of honey.

Would you like anything else from me?

This poem is from the book, ‘A Requiem For What Could Have Been: Poetry For The Broken’.

Read more from the colleciton, download a free copy, or purchase as a Paperback, eBook, Hardcover or Audiobook.

 
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