Often I wander
Often I stray
From the path You've chosen for me
From Your blessed way
Often I declare
My love for You
Yet that same love I deny
In the things that I do
But just when it seems I've gone that little too far
When my will differs from that of Your own
When Your love isn't my guiding star
When I try to go it alone
You reach out Your hand
You draw me near
You wrap Your arms around me
In a hug so dear
And I know Your love
A love so true
And I wonder why I do
Those things that don't please You
Then You set me back down on my way
The path that You'd have me journey
And gently squeeze my hand to say
“Child, all the way—it's you and Me.”
[Verse 1]
As I wallow
In my pit
Of self-pity,
I search for causes, reasons, excuses.
I look around
For somewhere
To lay the blame.
But no matter where I look, or how hard,
[Refrain]
The only guilty party
I find
Is me.
[Verse 2]
And no defence
Do I have
To call upon,
For who would defend one as guilty as I?
The prosecutor
Is emboldened
By the silent jeers
From the gallery made up of those who care.
[Refrain]
The prosecutor,
It seems,
Is me.
[Verse 3]
No jury
Is required here;
The verdict
Of this case is all too clear.
The sentence,
Which I await,
Will be, I fear,
A life not fulfilled, a potential never reached.
The contemporary poem “Guilty” is an exploration of
self-recrimination through the extended metaphor of judicial proceedings.
The work presents a psychological landscape wherein the speaker exists
simultaneously as defendant, prosecutor, and judge within an internalised
courtroom of conscience.
Structure and Form
The poem's structure mirrors the progression of a legal case, from
initial investigation (“I search for causes, reasons,
excuses”) through prosecution and ultimately to the anticipation of
sentencing. This architectural framework is reinforced by the poem's
fragmented presentation, with short, uneven lines that create pauses
reminiscent of hesitant testimony or the measured delivery of legal
argument. The poet employs enjambment strategically, particularly in the
opening stanza where “I look around / For somewhere / To lay the
blame” physically enacts the searching movement described within the
text.
The Judicial Metaphor
The central conceit transforms personal guilt into a formal legal
proceeding, yet this metaphor reveals its own limitations and ironies.
Traditional jurisprudence requires separation of roles—prosecutor,
defendant, judge, and jury—yet here these functions collapse into a
single consciousness. This convergence suggests the impossibility of fair
self-assessment and the tyranny of unchecked self-criticism. The speaker
notes that “No jury / Is required here,” indicating a process
that has abandoned the safeguards of objective judgment.
The “gallery made up of those who care” introduces an
additional layer of complexity, suggesting that genuine concern from
others is perceived as condemnation. This distortion of perspective
reveals the speaker's psychological state, wherein support is
reinterpreted as judgment, and care becomes indistinguishable from
prosecution.
Language and Tone
The diction throughout maintains a formal, legal register that contrasts
sharply with the emotional vulnerability of the content. Terms such as
“guilty party,” “defence,”
“prosecutor,” “verdict,” and
“sentence” create semantic consistency whilst ironically
highlighting the speaker's inability to escape the framework of
condemnation. The repetition of “me” as both subject and
object (“The prosecutor... Is me”) emphasises the circular,
inescapable nature of self-blame.
The poem's tone shifts from active searching to passive resignation,
culminating in the final stanza's acceptance of temporal judgment.
This progression mirrors the movement from agency to helplessness that
characterises severe self-criticism.
Temporal Dimensions
Time functions as both tormentor and potential saviour within the text.
The speaker anticipates “A life not fulfilled, a potential never
reached”—a sentence that stretches across the entirety of
existence. Yet the final lines introduce the possibility of redemption
through time's judgment, suggesting that temporal distance might offer
the objectivity that immediate self-assessment cannot provide.
Psychological Realism
The poem's strength lies in its authentic portrayal of depressive
self-condemnation. The speaker's inability to locate external blame,
despite searching “no matter where I look, or how hard,”
reflects the self-defeating patterns of thought characteristic of clinical
depression. The work avoids sentimentality by maintaining its legal
framework, even as it reveals the irrationality of applying judicial logic
to matters of self-worth.
Conclusion
“Guilty” succeeds as both a psychological portrait and a
critique of self-judgment. Through its sustained metaphor, the poem
reveals how the architecture of formal justice, when internalised, becomes
a mechanism of self-torture rather than truth-seeking. The work's
final gesture towards time as judge offers a subtle suggestion that
healing might require the external perspective that the speaker's
internal court cannot provide. The poem stands as a compelling examination
of how consciousness, when turned entirely inward, can become both prison
and prisoner.
Flying High
Warwick Allen
Saturday, 30 August 1997
[Verse 1]
The eagle it soars, with such might
Above the clouds in noble flight
And it does, from that lofty height
To the ground below cast its sight
[Verse 2]
On the creatures down low it stares
With scorn and derision it sneers
To itself and what ever hears
And with bitter contempt declares:
[Verse 3]
“Shame to all those birds low flying
Sparrows, finches, all those choosing
Low to stay, near the ground to sing
And never actually trying
[Verse 4]
“For if their wings they would bother
To stretch that little bit wider
Set their sights a little higher
And try that little bit harder
[Chorus 1]
“They too might know
The glory and the majesty
Of flying high
[Verse 5]
“'Twas not without effort that I
Managed to climb so very high
My wings I did spread wide, and my
Sights I did set high in the sky
[Chorus 2]
“It's through my own efforts that I know
The glory and the majesty
Of flying high
[Verse 6]
“As for those creatures who must stay
On the earth forever as they
Have no feathers, no wings, no way
Of flying. Pity them, I say
[Verse 7]
“But it's the ground fowl I can't stand
He has wings, as I understand
Feathers too, but he dwells on land
Not in the sky, so high and grand
[Verse 8]
“Why does he choose this way to live
When the blue skies he could have if
His wings he would flap, and then, with
Some effort, the skies would be his
[Chorus 3]
“And then he too might know
The glory and the majesty
Of flying high
[Verse 9]
“But no, he makes a decision
To live in humiliation
And shame; an abomination
To all the birds of creation
[Coda]
“If only he tried
Oh, how I loathe the ground fowl.”
Sonnet of the Stone Warwick Allen Friday, 22 August 1997
[Stanza 1]
The weight of the stone, around my heart bound
Is not enough to pull me under, but
Just enough for the chains, my soul to cut
And the load to keep my dreams on the ground.
Sometimes I stand tall, my strength I have found,
But often strength I've none, I'm in a rut,
I long for a haven, a lonely hut
Where, onto a page, my fears and doubts mound.
[Stanza 2]
From this safe place, I cry my forlorn plea
To my Lord, I ask Him to take the stone.
He hears, but He is teaching me to wait.
He wants to use me, now He's moulding me,
Yet He still lets me know I'm not alone,
And from my shoulders He will lift the weight.
