Brightest Day Of Insanity


I wish the shadows
chasing me would
forget my name.

I grow tired of secrets
pushing against the closet door
and dreams dressed in black quotes.

 F – a- m – i – l – y,
The nurse always spells things.
I recognize my face in those frowns.

Is this the brightest day
of my insanity to let truth
make its escape?

A cornered cat, I speak
through my claws the evil
I had been forced to protect.

Watching my words fill ears
until they puddle beneath me,
I wait to hear they understand.

My spine weeps from the effort
of standing tall while silence
stares at me with hollow eyes.

There are no words of comfort
for my open can of worms,
only anger I had scratched
them with truth while
peering inside my pain.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2014

The poem was inspired by Lisa Gordon's photos of the Willard Asylum.

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Comments

Anonymous said…
Oh, wow! What a brilliant way to depict the insanity that can so easily take over (if we let it). Very gripping and creative piece!
April 28, 2014 at 12:37 PM
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Susie, this is an amazing write......and how horrible that she spoke her truth and the information was received "with hollow eyes". So accurate, "no words of comfort.......only anger I had scratched them with truth while peering inside my pain." So often that is the reaction when one reveals a family secret the others dont want to hear. Powerful writing, Susie. So good.
April 28, 2014 at 12:54 PM
Other Mary said…
Wow Susie, this is a really powerful and wonderfully done peice. Kudos girl - this is brilliant!
April 28, 2014 at 1:58 PM
humbird said…
How sad, and good in same time, that she can speak up about her fears...~ Powerful poem!
April 28, 2014 at 2:05 PM
Mark Kerstetter said…
Interesting how the whole thing revolves around words: those spoken, those attempting to be uttered, those one would like to forget. Has me wondering if this suffering soul will decide to take these linguistic matters into her own hands in some way, bearing in mind that one of the ways of looking at madness is the failure of communication between the mad and the conventional world.
April 28, 2014 at 2:44 PM
Kathryn Dyche said…
Wow, this is more than inspired. Powerful piece Susie.
April 28, 2014 at 6:04 PM
Sobat Bonsai said…
inspired for me and may be for all
April 28, 2014 at 7:00 PM
Sumana Roy said…
"silence stares at me with hollow eyes".
....this is chilling and it's so sad when one resorts to the Evil for protection....
April 29, 2014 at 3:44 AM
Bekkie Sanchez said…
Wow! After my write this week I'm amazed! I feel like this now with what I am going through! The lines,
"There are no words of comfort
for my open can of worms,
only anger I had scratched
them with truth while
peering inside my pain."
So true! The can of worms being the truth from my family. Bravo!
April 29, 2014 at 1:00 PM
Heidi said…
Very sad, Susie. Excellent storytelling!
April 29, 2014 at 10:15 PM
Dick Jones said…
Poem & picture present a powerful joint narrative here.
April 30, 2014 at 2:16 AM
Anonymous said…
Excellent stuff Susie. Madness does seem to creep in where language fails us--perhaps we learned to speak in order to be free of a too-wild precipice. And when poets dance close back to that rim with their turns and tropes of words to create, are we also again mad?
April 30, 2014 at 5:35 AM
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