"Life is the dancer and you are the dance."
Eckhart Tolle

Saturday, January 1, 2011

embarking into madness writer's island #1-embark

I like to hide between layers of cloth
keeping distance from the outside.
I asked if sulking in the fissures
would release the salvation waited for
or if the mixture is too much to withstand.

Threadbare injustice is the essential escape
from the destiny of forgotten memoirs,
frozen allocates within breached
resistance of your Armageddon.

Persistence is the opposition from where
we lie in parallel lines joined at the most
explicit measures.

I see fish climbing up the stairway,
delusions of amphibians that bark like
cats wearing glitter on their fingertips.

I wondered if life had been kind or
severe, when we found the Roman
soldiers hiding in the medicine chest,
their swords brandished 24 hours a day.
I wait for the story of Judas
and how you walked upon the moon.

10 comments:

  1. Great depth to this - and searching.

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  2. Thanks Anthony, so nice to see you back with your
    new blog. This poem is my reflections on a friend of ours, who is suffering with dementia and is basically on his way out. It is a sad thing to witness.
    Pamela

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  3. I like how you bring in a kind of personal mythology and the ending. Happy new year Pamela.

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  4. Thanks Irene, it is about a friend of ours who has dementia. Happy New Year to you.
    Pamela

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  5. Amy said:
    Pamela, for someone who is experiencing a person's struggle with dementia for the first time, this is extremely perceptive. And all you can do is wait for the stories and validate them. My aunt had dementia, used to call me my mom's name, Charlotte - and I'd just agree with her. Finally, she brought me into her own little world and I discovered that listening to her was hearing a bit of the divine, because all the barriers were broken down. She lost all sense of decorum, but also was freed from convention. Sad (for us, her family) but also fascinating, because she didn't seem frustrated as long as we went along for the ride.

    Great take on the prompt. Thanks, Pamela! Here's mine, a bit on the lighter side: http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/01/02/em-barks-writers-island/
    Amy Barlow Liberatore (Sharp Little Pencil)

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  6. Amy as of now the stories are so vivid for him. But certainly a bit clouded for me. He has been going on a decline for the last two months and it amazes how much the mind has deteriorated. He seems quite happy. Just not there anymore.
    Sad.
    Pamela

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  7. Pam,
    I experience dementia on a personal level - my mum-in-law. She was ok a few years ago. She was staying alone, did her chores, looked after her personal habits, perfect!

    She was frail and we thought it safer for her to stay with us. Safe yes, but detrimental to her being. Everything was done for her that she regressed fast. She lost sense of time and space. She became dependent for minor things unlike before. We kept wondering whether on her own she could have been better off.

    Anyway, now it is a matter of making things easy for her, so long as she is comfortable. We make sure she takes her medicines and vitamins as advised.

    One can never know unless one goes through it!

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  8. kaykuala I wish you the best with your mother-in-law. Our friend lives close by. Yesterday he was put in the hospital and we are waiting to hear from the doctor.
    Pamela

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  9. This reminds me of the time when I was a child and went with my mother to visit my uncle who was in a nursing home. My uncle talked what was a lot of nonsense to me...about things he did, people he talked to, where he went. My mother just entered into the conversation with him, as if all that he was saying was real. She had a gift, I recognized that. The situation freaked me out as a child, not her. And both my uncle and my mother enjoyed the visit.

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  10. Mary, I am sure that terrified you being a young girl. I have never been around someone with dementia and it is odd to listen to the stories.
    You just have to agree with them. He is now in the hospital and will be going into a nursing home by the end of the week. Sad story.
    Pamela

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