The Unmusical Chair



A poem a day keeps the doctor away,
But what if neither poetry nor medicine can heal this dismay?
The seat that I sit in is locked in its ways,
And no musical chair can get it to play.

The tides of the ocean may continue to sway,
And the transition be made between night and day,
But not even the changing of the seasons has a say,
In how stuck this seat will continue to stay.

I wish I could stand, and move for awhile,
I wish I could run, maybe even a mile.
Oh the things I'd do, I'd cross the Nile!
But the chair is me, and I'm stuck to the tile.

About this poem

This poem was written in the throes of Obsessive-Compulsive, and otherwise undiagnosed, agony at the famous Silver Hill hospital, home to celebrities and creatives alike. The hospital failed me, but hopefully this poem won't. Enjoy its Seussical Sadness.

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Written on April 15, 2022

Submitted by Climax on April 15, 2022

Modified on May 04, 2023

39 sec read
10,170

Quick analysis:

Scheme AAXA AAAA BBBB
Closest metre Iambic hexameter
Characters 551
Words 128
Stanzas 3
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4

Climax

 · 1996 · Tampa, Florida

My name is Max. I have suffered from severe Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder for the better part of 10 years. Well, actually my whole life. I have an amazing story littered with trial and redemption, from being homeless in a park, starving in the wilderness, going through OCD rehab with a celebtrity, and following my dream to beat OCD and become worldwide-success DJ Climax and share my love for music and comedy through my own funny music videos and content. I wanted to make a movie of my success when I made it called Good Crazy, and I had it all laid out. I made progress, and a year ago, I fell in love. I had a mental breakthrough, and was a day away from beating my OCD and living in heaven forever, accomplishing my dreams, and beating my OCD for the girl I loved. Her name was Grace, and I would've remixed Amazing Grace, believed in God, and shared the most amazing love story the world has ever known. Good Crazy would've been a beautiful mind-esque story of healing, with all the comedy, charm, and thrill of a Martin Scorsese film like The Wolf of Wall Street. Then, a trigger broke my brain, I lost the love of my life, and I am currently incapacitated. Climax was a brand of unshakable self-belief, hope, and comedy, all in spite of the world's greatest known doubting disease. Currently, Climax is dead. All that's left is a collection of grief-stricken poems written by a man struggling to survive. Maybe it's somewhere. I don't think another beginning exists, but maybe this is it. Enjoy its Seussical Sadness. more…

All Climax poems | Climax Books

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Discuss the poem The Unmusical Chair with the community...

20 Comments
  • ronan.collins.89
    Nicely written.
    LikeReply10 days ago
  • Amirhosein_aj
    I enjoyed it very much
    LikeReply26 days ago
  • kazbrekker
    This was a very fun read. Keep up the work man
    LikeReply3 months ago
  • Philipo
    To hear from where it spring up is amazing. Hope by now, that type of venue is history in your life. Amazing work here. All the best.
    LikeReply1 year ago
  • author177
    Very impactful poem with the inspiration from musical chairs. It does justice with its mix of nostalgic emotions to convey the theme of depression. I like it!
    LikeReply1 year ago
  • BeYoutifullyRooted
    Wow!!! I got goosebumps!!!! This was intense!!!
    LikeReply 11 year ago
  • VandhukK33
    What lingers through problems is my to your problem.
    LikeReply1 year ago
  • dougb.19255
    Stuck to the tile. Good image of seeming hopelessness. Many clinging to afflictions. Possessing them. My filthy tongue. My nicotine habit. My painful lower back. My OCD. The trick is to stop the verbal ownership. To let something bothersome be expelled by an over-riding affection. Loving Jesus. Ignoring the problem to death. It is not for the disciplined mind, but rather the abandoned Heart. Abandoned to the Redeemer. 
    LikeReply1 year ago
  • AIDA
    The poem effectively conveys a sense of frustration and confinement through the metaphor of being stuck in a chair. The repetition of the idea that nothing can move the chair adds to the feeling of hopelessness. The use of rhyme and rhythm gives the poem a musical quality that contrasts with the subject matter, adding to the sense of irony. The last stanza provides a glimmer of hope, but the final line brings the reader back to the reality of the situation. Overall, this is a well-crafted and evocative poem. 
    LikeReply 11 year ago
  • brejesh.shan
    Absolutely wonderful.
    LikeReply 11 year ago
  • Symmetry58
    Have you tried converting the diet to a diet that can repair the biology, biome and brain? Stick to solely fruits and vegetables for at least one year and you could potentially rebuild your entire cellular structure. When I got sick with multiple ailments I had to switch completely and it saved my life. It took time, patience and trust that nature knew more than man, but in the end I was completely healed of all ailments. Your story is a journey, as are all of our stories. Keep in mind I am a weightlifter of about 47 years and have eaten WAY too much protein and other garbage in my life to a detrimental outcome. I am educated in Health, Wellness and Nutrition and have had to learn my lessons the hard way.

    We accumulate lessons, wisdom, tribulation, etc to whatever end we reap. As the saying goes "When we are born, we look like our parents. When we die, we look like our decisions."

    I appreciate your story, brother, as well as your courage to share it. Go to youtube and look for Dr. Robert Morse N.D. and watch as many of his videos as you can. Keep an open mind so you're best able to grow and heal. Stay strong and I'll see you around.
     
    LikeReply 21 year ago
  • karlcfolkes
    Max,
    Your poem is the beginning of a healing balm self-administered by you. What courage. Keep on expressing your self in the ways you know best that are also comfortable and comforting to you. You are also by this gesture helping others to benefit. You are blessed In many ways. 
    LikeReply 11 year ago
  • suzib.53754
    Know words may inspire

    Know words of Hope When one gazes at the Bottom Of Pandora's Glass In a Looking glass World..still...
    I have found along this Veteran Path

    That Hope springs again A slow refreshing A trickle A trinket In the Maze Of soul.
    Thankhs for sharing (inner visions of the soul)
    ✌️
     
    LikeReply 11 year ago
  • teril
    Thank you for sharing. Keep your vision forward, and certainly, "the things you'll do" will be inspired and wonderful.
    LikeReply 12 years ago
  • tanyas.74554
    I loved it :) I hope you will have a reason soon to write a happier poem, but adversity does give us a deeper perspective to write from. I also hope you will read Mike Emlet's book 'Freedom for the Obsessive Compulsive'. 
    LikeReply 22 years ago
  • karlcfolkes
    Let him or he who is without blemish cast the first stone!
    LikeReply 12 years ago
    • suzib.53754
      or better yet
      Perhaps
      Keep the Stone
      For fresh inspiration
      Like a Pet Rock
      In a thyme Mäze.
      Zen☯️
      LikeReply 11 year ago
  • zyiawithmelissa
    Enjoyed it so much, I read it twice! We are all perfectly imperfect and good crazy!
    LikeReply 22 years ago
  • johnc.22519
    I was born before 'disorders' were invented. We were all different, some of us pretty whacky in our habits, but we made allowances for that and gradually learned to deal with our own habits so that we became as socially acceptable as we actually wanted, and to tolerate or avoid those who gave us a problem. Then the psychiatric profession started labelling unusual personality traits as 'disorders'. It was good for business not just for them but also for the companies making the mind-altering, sometimes 'dependence forming' drugs that are applied with only partial knowledge of their effects on specific personalities and, frequently, with no actual monitoring of their personal and social effects. We recently met a certified OCD who was taken off meds in order to change the drug. In those few weeks she seemed to get better! I was even allowed in her house for conversation! Max: you've fixed your OCD once for a girl. All you need do is take the roughest edges off yourself and you will sooner or later find another to love. And, if you have any doubts whatsoever about what professional medics are doing to you, you should walk away and build up yourself, by yourself if necessary. Just me thinking back on cases I have known, Rambling On. Surely, I am ROD. Keep writing! John 
    LikeReply 12 years ago
  • ggsunmoon
    if you look behind you you will come unstuck from the chair, nothing is behind you because the past is gone
    LikeReply 12 years ago
  • Dougla$Irishman
    Thankyou for your revealing poem.,
    Sickness of the mind and body can be a life long journey.
    When you are young at heart, you should be able to deal with it but not always.
    Now I am in my last years, I find it very hard to cope !
    Pain our worst enemy !
    Keep writing, it may give you a release from it.
    Believe it or not - we are all in it together sooner or later !
    You can lead a horse to water
    But you can't make him drink !
     
    LikeReply 12 years ago
    • suzib.53754
      I play my s&g sounds of silence
      The classics stat still
      Inspire
      The Muse of my soul.
      Thankhs for sharing.
      LikeReply1 year ago

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"The Unmusical Chair" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 9 Dec. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/124906/the-unmusical-chair>.

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