These two poems are written about the same state of being. The title of the first poem is really the title of the entire post. These poems were written last winter.
Current: I had to go to the doctor, losing two days this week. I have been referred to Kaiser's sleep clinic to check out the possibilities of sleep apnea. I doubt that diagnosis. However, I hope they find something that works for me because I can't afford to cater to this loss of energy. I think it my trouble is the consequence of a moderately heavy ingestion of chemicals, what they call side effects. We also discovered what I expected, that I am not responding to the blood pressure meds and that means there is more to learn about that too. Another referral. Boring. What is interesting is, sleep disorder is subsumed under pulmonary, meaning about lungs. Blood pressure is subsumed under nephrology. Hunh. Kidney disease. Blood pressure if difficult is about kidney function. Hmmm.
Point Of View
I'm a lunatic,
know it from how many call
me that, used to hurt
me, now no longer
bleed out from such a wounded
lowly condition.
Instead I gather
roots and herbs, make my designs,
and dance around fires
painted and naked.
The world changes. The crows come
and caw approval.
February 4, 2009 9:57 AM
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This following poem is a fundamentally Christian vision, not only in the primary image but in the sentiment. It is not the only Christian vision. It is not even, I believe, the predominant vision offered in the mainstream churches these days. It is a vision nonetheless of traditional depth and is based on both the idea of original sin and on it's solution.
You Have Broken Me
Oh God, Your hammer's
hit the nail into my wrist
with sharp stinging blows.
You say I fall prey
to self love this long held way,
that I seek to tell
everyone's truth
as I can name it, as if
my passion's larger
than life, larger than
You, it turns out harsh just that
way, nailing me down.
I think I know best.
I do. I think I know best.
You have broken me.
February 4, 2009 10:18 AM
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You always think you won
ReplyDeletelike I was some kind of prize
in a freak show alleyway
I tell you, I never break
I may lay down sometimes,
lick this ever bleeding wound
but always I get up
still unbroken
yet not without scars
Dunno where that came from
or even why really :)
Broken things annoy me I guess
xxx
So many poets have used the image of the anvil to represent themselves, broken by God's hammer. The image of crucifixion is the most powerful image of all eternity, in my mind.
ReplyDeleteI LOVE "Point of View" - everything about it, but especially the last stanza. Glorious writing!
Sorry for the continued health worries. Docs can adjust until they get the BP meds right. They tested my husband (same age as you and similar issues) for apnea and the results were negative. He slept like a baby all night long. I think they couldn't believe that he'd sleep with all those wires hooked to him. I could've told them! lol
Good luck, Christopher.
{{{Michelle}}}
ReplyDeleteThank you for your poetry. I try not to treat others that way :)
Karen, that's why I don't think I have sleep apnea, I sleep like a baby as far as I know, but I have that prostate condition that makes me get up at least twice in 6 hours.
Crows are wise, earth wise. So a crow approval is earned.
ReplyDeleteThe second poem speaks against itself, knowing best sounds too much like not truly yet broken.
Techno, or else speaking of loss, broken against one's wishes.
ReplyDeleteyour thoroughly Protestant poem found be looking up sermons by Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758) ..... Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God
ReplyDeleteIn reference to being broken,
ReplyDeleteby God?
I guess that I would prefer to think of it as becoming undone, unravelled, not broken, just remoulding myself to a new shape.
I like to come undone :)
Makes life interesting....is it about the fight or the flight?
Or neither, standing still in the eye of the storm can be exhilerating too...
This poem is provocative.
And thanks for the Anchovies.
xxx
Ghost, exactly. And if you had been one of the Christian souls of that time the whole thrust of it would have made vital spiritual sense. The Great Awakening, a deeply early American experience of the Divine.
ReplyDeleteMichelle I aim to please, hope you liked the anchovies. Sorry I didn't make it to the corner even after I invited you. My bad. I noticed that at noon here it is 5AM there.