Insanity's Hatchling


It Must Be Time For Lunch Now, 1979, by Francesca Woodman 


A phantom song
sings through his madness
of forks and a dish running
away with a spoon.

The broken pane sunlight
chases him through the room
trying to lure him out of the dark.

Was I ever a child or just
a hatchling of insanity?
I remember no loving mother
suckling me at her breast.

I can’t find my way
out of the paint
that bloodies my hands.

Why couldn’t my muse
demand a pen to write
the images from my brain
and not a paintbrush leaving
my walls a nightmare canvas?

Peace speaks a language
I cannot translate.
This paint, this room,
a senseless melody
are a maze with no escape.


©Susie Clevenger 2012
Photo prompt: The Mag
Also share with Real Toads Open Link Monday

Comments

Ella said…
Wow, this is so good! It has a haunting vibe with a smear of mental breakdown~ I loved the rhythm of your poem. It read like an enchanting story casting a bewitching spell.... ;D Well done
Anonymous said…
the words are brushed onto the page...I like it.
Marian said…
whoosh, so strong, Susie. "hatchling of insanity," wowee.
Such a great sense of the desperation of the lost--really well done!
Fireblossom said…
Such a silly picture and such a rich, painful, terrifying poem you drew from it.
Kerry O'Connor said…
There is something of insanity in the picture - of a lost soul. You really brought that home in your poem.
Teresa said…
Incredibly awesome in its frightful images!
Helen said…
This is mighty intense .. well done, Susie.
Susie Swanson said…
This is very powerful.. I'm in awe at your talent everytime I read one.. You really have a way with words..
Caught in a web and trying to get out.So well captured and translated into words. I tried but had to give up. Impressive what you made of it.
Scarlet said…
Hey, I wrote about this piece too yesterday...It's a little insane but I do like where the muse took you. My fav lines are the last:

Peace speaks a language
I cannot translate.
This paint, this room,
a senseless melody
are a maze with no escape.
This has to be one of your very best.and that last stanza...24 carat gold.
Arian Tejano said…
This take speaks to me the most. Thank you.
Berowne said…
Powerful stuff, and awfully well written.
Raven said…
I sense that you are in the midst of a metamorphosis at this moment. Well done.
Little Nell said…
A haunting picture of the tortured mind of an artist; well done.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Wow, best response to this photo I have read. It rings absolutely true of someone battling mental illness. Love the title so much!!!!
Gerry said…
I think you captured the mood of the photo very, very well!
De Jackson said…
LOVE the nursery rhyme reference, Susie. And this line absolutely haunts me:
"I can’t find my way
out of the paint
that bloodies my hands."

An "out, out, damned spot" moment if ever there was one. Wonderful.
Tigerbrite said…
WOW, I love this:)
Unknown said…
Wow, Susie!
I've read several responses to this prompt, but this is the most evocative and meaningful of the lot. I recently read a memoir written by an adult woman who was essential unloved and neglected as a child. This encapsulates it.
Anonymous said…
Very deep, Susie.
Sreeja said…
this is excellent!!
Carrie Van Horn said…
I think this photo evoked the thoughts of insanity for a lot of us....brilliant writing Susie!
Tess Kincaid said…
Haunting write...excellent...