In TIAs

They call it a stroke, but a stroke's a caress,
A present borne through gentleness.
T'would be better to call it a bolt from the blue,
A malfunction of synapses- give it its due.
This burgalar of words.
This remover of movements.
Imprisoning souls in disconnected flesh.
Self-enforced censorship, unable to express.
The Orwellian Nightmare of frustra-lingua.
(feelings unnamed continue to exist)
Inside this less-than-lustrous figure
The personality refuses to cease and desist.
Surreal conversations
rebuild the connections
and help to recover the words.
It emerged to me
the best neuro-surgery
is performed in the theatre of the absurd.

Bis

Our Archduke's hard to pinpoint
But in rearview will come clear.
I'm watching repeats of the 20th
And foretelling the future in fear.
With the crash and the olympics
It's pricklingly familiar.
Persecution of strangers
Genocide and paedophilia.
We're making do and mending.
We're choosing heat or food.
There's a palpable discomfort
in the national mood.
We're policed and suspicious
with polarised media input.
The labour market's vicious
And available help's getting cut.
Can we collect Pandora's strays
before they run a-mock?
Or are the raptors swooping hard
and on this path we're locked?
We've forgotton the lessons we learned
And it's going to cost us dear.
I'm watching repeats of the 20th
And foretelling the future in fear.

Accidental

Malformed.
Miscreated.
Discombobulated.
Disconsolate.
Bereft.
Endeavours.
Enburdened.
Encapsulated.
Entropy.
Desolate.
Disinterested.
Dance.
Discovery.
Discography.
Divine.