Archive for March 22nd, 2011
Meditation on Mania V. 2
Freedom floats through rooms that need cleaning. All I want to do is have fun, but I blaze super fast with my chores.
All of my friends love me. This is because Mother and Dad gave me a luscious consciousness as my playground, full of all of the world’s beauty (& sickness), ready to multiply all of the world’s toys, and when I see that shimmering beauty, I think I can re-create it so other people who don’t see it can see it as plainly as house on the prairie.
I am of the diseased, unable-to-get-along generation of some kind. This is why the worst and ugliest hospitals love me, and all of the people in the hospitals love me and kiss me and smile as they watch me paint big pictures of worlds that couldn’t possibly exist.
Good mania makes my mind act like a furious race car in the middle of a dangerous train station with hundreds of trains chugging in and out of a giant marble concourse. Overconfident joy tells me that some god is inside me, and I can create the most magnificent art the world has ever seen, heard or read.
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Evelyn and I challenged each other to do a meditation on the nature of mania – see the rules, which I have conveniently broken, posted under V. 1
Her post should be up soon at Filling a Hole.
Meditation on Mania V. 1
I have read about psychotic mania. I don’t ever want that.
When I experience a lift in my major depression, the joy of living in a beautiful world like a normal human is so magnificent, it feels like mania.
Reflecting right now, it makes me think of the Taj Mahal.
Overconfident joy tells me that some god is inside me, and I can create the most magnificent art the world has ever seen, heard or read. Anyone could, but one must want to (like I do when I’m manic).
I am Picasso! Seriously!
My doctors say it’s not mania. It’s normal. My medicines are supposed to create normal all of the time. They don’t. Doctors say it’s not science.
Right now, it has been so long since a lift, I forget what mania is, so I can’t write about it.
Sometimes I have moments of mania within the depression. These are dangerous, but some of them are good mania and I like those moments. Good mania makes my mind act like a furious race car in the middle of a dangerous train station with hundreds of trains chugging in and out of a giant marble concourse.
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Evelyn and I challenged each other to do a meditation on the nature of mania. The only rule, a severe rule at that, was that it must be between 160 and 200 words. Those of you who have read anything of mine know that I had to use all 200, and I did. Exactly 200. Here’s where it gets a little strange: I wasn’t happy with my first one because my contemplation was far more serious than it should have been, though the actual state does deserve serious contemplation. Thus, this is V. 1, and I created a V. 2, which I will post next, and it is also exactly 200 words. What do you know? I think Word does not count multiple words with hyphenated words and it should, so I may have bent the rules. I know I did with having a V. 2, but Evelyn outguns me with talent so badly that I needed some sort of handicap so there is no reason for me to feel guilty.
Her post should be up soon at Filling a Hole.
Artists Without Control
He looks up and to his left at the conductor. Go big. Go now. His hands release the leader. And now he listens for God. Reverence releases earthly magic. Some of us miss God terribly.
Sifting Through Lessons in Creation
Under canopies of concrete barriers,
seeing your pain rip through full buildings,
knowing our words melt those beastly structures,
staring, holding your wisdom, wanting belief,
running makeshift humility, knowing your truth,
falling and finding your Band-Aid, hearing your softness,
understanding katat can be good, hiding in the security
that you are pushing me to sanity, keeping me alive,
forcing rats and blankets to fly straight up and get lost in the
swirls of flaky, delicate clouds that you have created,
knowing that tomorrow I might create and it
might soothe my soul and you might see that.
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It is One Shot Wednesday AGAIN! It seems like it’s only been a week since the last one. I decided to put this one up on the board. Go check out what others have to offer at One Stop Poetry – It is a marvelous group of poets.
stillfugue 