And who was Steiner anyway -
his face is everywhere yet
I have no sense of life before
him, before you and your smile.
My brain a psychedelic fairground
dodgem-ride of car crash moments
fast-tracked re-wound re-lived;
nerve endings prickling with fear as
the painted Lady Madonna confronts
me, surreal and Dali-esque, eyes
sliding off her face, her
anthroposophical lap-child's mouth
a gaping black oval, emitting a silent
scream as giant insects crawl through
crumbling walls of yellow tablets and
my desperate tongue seeks to
capture the crumbs of my addiction...
Beneath my carapace an alien
body lies rigid, after the killer-healer
Anthropos has pummelled the life out
of me, leaving me to die, praying to the
the framed Madonna for it all to
end; there is no fun in this place, no
escape, for I am paralysed - unable
to move; the room spins, judders to a
halt as Steiner, Madonna, change
places - the baby, where is the baby -
no more haemorraging your dead
foetuses. Now his eyes are your eyes,
his smile reminds me of yours - you
are one and the same - Steiner has
got me....after it all began and
ended - right here right now with you,
without you, for ever and ever......
Amen
Comments
ScoZen | September 6, 2011 - 22:00
Seashore.
Don't ever tell me you can't write...ok!
Lots in here I liked.
ps will catch up later on "Anthropos"
Highhat | September 7, 2011 - 07:52
Sounds like hell- coming down from a bad trip-
I am glad you posted this Coral. It is a brilliant account of withdrawal. Penned masterly- you really do write brilliant poems. I'd love to see some of your paintings as well ;)
Well done
;)Pia
seashore | September 7, 2011 - 08:16
ScoZen - no promises but I'll try! I am learning that I can't force it, if I do then it's a definite no-no.
Thanks for reading and commenting, much appreciated.
seashore | September 7, 2011 - 08:21
Hi Pia, bless you for those kind words - yes it was hell and is still ongoing to a certain extent but that's another story! You might well be disappointed in my paintings I don't know - bit of a mixed bag really...
Hope the feet get better soon, Coral x
Silver Spun Sand | September 7, 2011 - 12:13
This is so very moving, Coral, and more than deserving of its cherry. And as for paintings, I am sure you don't do yourself justice. Mine are, shall we say 'an acquired taste' ...and leave it at that;-)
Tina
seashore | September 7, 2011 - 13:39
That's a good way of putting it Tina! I think mine are a bit `Marmite'...
Thanks so much for the feedback, I do appreciate it and very pleased to have this cherry-picked also (thanks eds).
Overthetop1 | September 7, 2011 - 18:30
This is a particularly well written account of what must have been a truly terrible experience. The imagery is extrordinary and convey a nightmare world that no-one should have to visit-but unfortunately a few of us do. Well deserved cherry and my personal POTW.
seashore | September 7, 2011 - 20:03
So grateful for that, OTT and heartfelt thanks.
MaggieG | September 7, 2011 - 20:17
I had to scroll up after reading this to see if you had cherries sitting there. Honestly ? I think I would have thoroughly been pissed off if you hadn't. Some of the best new authors I have read recently are often painters, and such as that. Go figure... That detailed eye I think is a necessity.
You Darlin are quite good :)
seashore | September 7, 2011 - 21:36
...and you MaggieG leave great comments! I've also noticed you're not so bad yourself in the writing department...
skinner_jennifer | September 8, 2011 - 11:41
Hi coral,
sorry I've got around to this one a bit late, it's
so hard to keep up with everyone.
I have to say first, that I agree with you about
not forcing poetry, if it comes that's great and
quite often, I have pen and paper ready while I'm
doing housework, then everything stops to write.
Now about this amazing piece of work, there is so
much truth in what ScoZen said, you are truely
gifted and have written, what I consider to be what
poetry is all about, speaking from the soul, from
feelings that are so strong, that they need to be
written down.
Keep on writing coral, you really are gifted.
Jenny.
seashore | September 8, 2011 - 13:04
Jenny - that's a fantastic comment and means a great deal to me so a big thank you for that.
Yes, you are so right - this was an example of something that just had to be said, so strong it was almost beyond my control. Like you I now have
notebooks everywhere - one by the bed, one in my bag, one in the living room to jot down anything that comes to mind. I don't know about you but some things I use and some I don't but at least they are there!
Thanks again, Coral x
fatboy74 | September 12, 2011 - 13:17
This is a poem from someone at the top of their game and unlucky to have run up against simon barget's poem or I am sure this would have been POW. Really, really good. :-)
seashore | September 12, 2011 - 15:36
Thanks a million for that, FB - even I thought it might be one of my better efforts (which believe me is saying something) but wondered whether it could be too `edgy' for some people's tastes... I named the clinic when first posted it but changed it when a google search revealed my poem sitting there the very next day! Although it no longer exists in the same guise, I see it is reopening as something completely different but didn't want to take any risks!
Thanks again - really pleased to have your comment.
sid | April 4, 2012 - 01:22
Awesome, seashore. When are you coming back, I miss your brilliant wordsmithery (think I just smithed my own word there).
seashore | April 9, 2012 - 18:29
sid - so flattered by your comment. I am amazed that anyone would notice my absence.
Due mainly to health reasons, I have moved. Writing has dried up for now but maybe when I have overcome the inevitable problems caused by this, my 25th move (yes really) the words might come to me. I do hope so as creating is the one thing that keeps me half-sane!
I wish you well and will catch up with your writing very soon.
All good wishes and thanks again. I am humbled.
Coral x
ScoZen | April 9, 2012 - 19:47
Hi there seashore.
I have just signed in and read sid's comment.
Quite true and I hope you have moved to the seaside?
The sea air does wonders for "... Writing has dried up..."
Go dip your pen in the briny.
seashore | April 10, 2012 - 08:17
Scozen - good to hear from you too.
No, sadly not by the sea - my dreams of a white-painted bungalow overlooking the Mediterranean are on hold. Maybe the 26th move? However, although this is only a studio flat, it is very light - a necessary commodity for creative people. I love the idea of "dipping my pen in the briny".....
Are you still watercolouring?
sid | April 10, 2012 - 08:56
Yes, when I first joined you were among the site's most prolific and inspiring members, so your absence is a tangible loss to the rest of us! Best of luck with everything, Coral. Glad to hear back from you, hope to see you posting again one day soon. Best wishes- sid
Silver Spun Sand | April 10, 2012 - 09:07
Hi there, Coral. I've just picked up on this too. I have so missed you, and of late have thought about you a great deal.
I wish you happiness, and peace of mind in your new home, and hey...don't go looking too hard for that inspiration. It's a bit like trying to catch a butterfly. If you sit very still, you might just find one sitting on your shoulder when you least expect it.
All best wishes and warmest regards.
Tina:-)xx
seashore | April 10, 2012 - 09:35
Thanks again sid!
Hello Tina - thank you for missing me and for the advice. Right now I am so busy sorting out the teething problems of the move (no phone for example, due to BT's incompetence as I had to transfer from Virgin Media and I thought they were bad!!) that the concept of writing is way off the radar. I can't believe I had that purple patch after joining Abc - who was that person?
I do hope things are okay with you - when I can I will catch up on some reading, yours in particular. In the meantime I will think about the butterfly analogy.
Thanks again and very best wishes to you too,
Coral x