Do not prevent my descent into madness Demanding to know “what’s the matter?”
I am being denied matter split, severed, impaled on routine definitions
being denied matter denied spirit denied love life denied earth denied universe denied flight voice without sound silence without stillness nature denied nurture denied space denied song
do not prevent this death defying descent do not distract me now with the cold embers of kind concern
I am diving deep to dredge up my tattered remains of longed for spirit there’s little hope of pulling myself together clichés will not enlighten me as I wade through pain Disturbing life encrusted scars and letting wounds weep openly
do not distract me now with tired tales of feeling better soon.
I no longer trade in futures feeling the disease of presence is all I desire
I crave meeting myself Like a longed for lover I crave cradling my pain pouring soothing sorrow on long neglected wounds
I cannot bear even to hear the lies luring me to selfless loveliness I cannot any longer trust words to name the fear, the fury, the joy convulsing in my too long defined soul
I yearn only for myself to gently embrace my recovered spirit caring little for the traces of torture but learning to look on love with new vision.
At St Mary’s College in Wellington, in addition to spending hours practising the piano, I entered a national poetry competition. “Nothing is,” I wrote, “what is cannot be and not be”. That’s nailed it, I thought, on the tram going to school. Unfortunately Sister M refused to enter my poem. Both I and the poem were a disgrace. We were shocked. She never displayed passion but, that day, she had an important message. She thought I had dumped God. I hadn’t then. I was blatantly and badly channeling Gerard Manley Hopkins. I continued to write, and you can read my poems (so far) in chronological order or you can browse the list of poems A-Z.
