Asylum
.
Back with the morning,
white-coated greetings,
stinging questions,
drone straight at me,
then swarm past,
turmoil in their wake,
a whirlpool of noise,
muddying the air,
spinning, sucking me
into its still-centre
of thrumming silence:
and I curl myself up
in my rolled-up vacuum,
my solitary
where I hang out my days,
one by one, back turned
to the here-and-now
peeping in, rattling keys.
Still, after the pills,
a nightingale sings:
the trees have sparkles
in their hair:
wide-armed, I can
inhale the world,
roam knee-deep in darkness,
and be myself till dawn.
.
In purely personal taste, I’m not a fan of abstract poetry, but this was well composed
Thanks, John. Is this an abstract poem? I’m not a fan of abstract poetry either. I thought I was describing a medical or mental condition.
Perhaps abstract is not the right word. I mean the whirlpools and sucking in etc etc, Yes it is about a mental condition – as I say, it’s just my personal taste, not a criticism as such
Thank you to the mystery person who nominated this! And nibbed it!
First person version, Trevor – a blatant case of striving for authenticity as opposed to presuming to know how such a patient feels. You reference “solitary” without the “my,” The point I wish to convey here, which works for me, of course, but sadly perhaps not for mon cher lecteur, is that the patient is claiming ownership of confinement. He/she is happy and safe to be in solitary and pronounces the “my” as a stressed syllable., which I thought it unnecessary to italicise. But I’ll give it a try.
Gerald
To be honest, Gerald, not one of your best in my opinion but I seem to be contradicted by the nib and nomination.
Everyone to his/her taste, I say.
Best, Luigi.
Thanks, Luigi. I agree, it’s not a piece I consider one of my best but if someone likes it, that’s fine by me.
Regards, Gerald
“Solitary” as a noun – bang him up in solitary, that’ll learn ‘im, etc.
You have many terrific lines in this poem, but for me the last two are favourites, I love the idea of roaming knee deep in darkness. Sue.
Thanks, Sue. Pleased you like ‘knee-deep in darkness.’
Gerald.