Dragonfly's Poetry & Prolixity: Seizure by Marion

Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Seizure by Marion

Seizure

By Marion

FLASH!!!

Lights, lights, lights,

Bright, bright, bright, bright!

FIREWORKS! BOMBS!!!!!!

Knocked me off the bed——-

Shocks! Volts of electrified light

EXPLODING in my head, my head,

MY HEAD IS ON FIRE!!!!!!!!

Sleep has tossed me into

Hell’s blazing flames!

Am I dying?

(Brain storm)?

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, CLANGING!!!!!!!!!

CACOPHONY OF SYMBOLS CRASHING!

Can’t move, can’t scream...

Suddenly, abruptly, it’s over.

Only echoes & spasms

jerking my shocked psyche

and body...

I wake, stunned, broken

and

shattered.

3/29/19

2 comments:

PhilipH said...: Alarmingly written. A nightmarish pen picture of Edvard Munch's "The Scream". Hope you're a lot easier by now.; April 4, 2019 at 3:41 PM
Marion said...: Thanks, Philip! That was part real, part imagination. New medication almost killed me, but I survived it. xo; April 19, 2019 at 9:36 AM

I Love Lorrie Moore!!

“You’re not a poetess, I hope,” said the English geologist next to her. “We had a poetess here last month, and things got a bit dodgy here for the rest of us.”

“Really.” After the soup, there was risotto with squid ink.

“Yes. She kept referring to insects as ‘God’s typos’ and then she kept us all after dinner one evening so she could read from her poems, which seemed to consist primarily of the repeating line ‘the hairy kiwi of his balls.’”

From: “Birds of America” by Lorrie Moore, page 266, ‘Terrific Mother’

Miranda July's Best Book:

"Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It's okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise." From: "No One Belongs Here More Than You Stories by Miranda July", Page 11

A Dreamy, Drug of a Book

"The minute you land in New Orleans, something wet and dark leaps on you and starts humping you like a swamp dog in heat, and the only way to get that aspect of New Orleans off you is to eat it off. That means beignets and crayfish bisque and jambalaya, it means shrimp remoulade, pecan pie and red beans with rice, it means elegant pompano au papillote, funky file z'herbes, and raw oysters by the dozen, it means grillades for breakfast, a po' boy with chowchow at bedtime, and tubs of gumbo in between. It is not unusual for a visitor to the city to gain fifteen pounds in a week---yet the alternative is a whole lot worse. If you don't eat night and day, if you don't constantly funnel the indigenous flavors into your bloodstream, then the mystery beast will go right on humping you, and you will feel its sordid presence rubbing against you long after you have left town." ~Tom Robbins, "Jitterbug Perfume", page 240