I heard him outside the window
before I woke completely and opened my eyes.
It was still dark; maybe the first hint of sunrise
behind the curtains that smelled of cigarettes.
He was muttering to himself something about
demons and Hell while dragging a chair
to the middle of the road. Once positioned,
he began to circle it, saying with conviction:
"Stay in Hell! Stay! All demons stay in Hell!"
Which startled Amy, lying beside me.
I stroked her hair, kissed her forehead,
and told her it was just my neighborhood again,
"nothing to worry about..."
Then the guy began to pray over the chair
in the middle of the road like they do in
Pentecostal services on sunday night:
waving hands, and tongues touching air--
"Stay in Hell! Go back to Hell! No demons here!"
I felt her hand on my side, tracing my ribs.
"Go to sleep, she whispered, "he's crazy,"
half-pulling me away from the hole in the
blanket, nailed to the wall like a curtain.
After his prayer, he circled the chair
two more times, and dragged it back to where
he found it. Then he turned to the south,
and looked up at the sky with defiance.
"Coming!" he shouted, and marched away quick,
determined to make it to the next portal.
I smiled in the blush of new peach morning,
and thanked his God for safety and sleep.
Author notes
This has nothing to do with my personal insanity, though my character may describe something we all possess in one way or another; or something that can possess us, in a manner of speaking.
A contest entry
- x Bring Me To The Depths of Insanity x by xxRainbowDawnxx.
300 points, ended June 14, 2007, 29 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Discuss the subtle nuance of body language when interviewing for a job.
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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This write possesses and really make the reader want more.
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Mostly it says I really don't want this job.
Chucking demons back to hell sounds interesting tho'.
Reminds me! I should write a fervant fan letter to alyssa milano, for the good of my soul you understand.
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Accomplished. You tell the story but is a poem because there is more than the story. I am in there, you bring me right there at the window with 'the curtains that smelled of cigarettes.'
I like also how you bring the three levels of awareness of the personae - Narrator/poet observes and try to make sense of the action of the man with the chair while 'Amy' Is oblivious.
Perhaps though we have more, we have two different scenarios in first half of the poem and the second ahlf as another 'memory' or incident in another place with another 'Amy'
The first has curtains at the window,and an 'Amy' who is not used to the 'neighbourhood' and its madness-the second (or first in time?) has a blanket with a hole in it nailed to the wall in place of the curtains at the window and the ritual take place behind this, which in reality is not possible and an 'Amy' who is used to the madness and is the one to reassure and urge that N take no notice of it either.
The man with the chair- you say in the notes is a real man with a chair. I should get rid of the notes. They are both superfluous and confusing to the poem.
You see, the poem leave me as reader to contemplate if the ritual is symbolic in N/P's mind of many things- (the things are left for the reader to superimpose his own interpretation and works well- me I think it a metaphor for war, but that is from small things in the poem that resonate to me personally) or if this is a real event that has triggered the memory of another event or has trigger a thought process, and I am thinking then of 'Amy' and 'her' role here. I like to turn over and look and think on this poem, this story told in poetic form which somehow manage to make itself important to me today.
Niko
PS- Of course I mean it is a Poem obviously but I leave the analysis of the poetic devices to others if indeed that is necessary with a writer of your apparent calibre. We do not know each other, so you will not know my humour and difficluties sometimes with English expression. I did see and appreciate them as a poem- I did not mean mean it is not a poem because it obviously is a poem. Poem. -
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ah so you saw this happen... ahh, wow... This dude needs some help I think... I'm glad it's not based on you but you're right we all have some niggling insanities in our mind that we just have no choice but to play a part in our lives sometimes.
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Loved the visuals written here! I chuckled at the author's notes. Insanity and sanity run the straightest aligning course I know of. Your words flowed effortlessly poet. I am a Thespian, and I saw this acted out on stage in my mind. The one character I have yearned to portray, and never have; yup...an insane being. LOL Thanks for the opportunity!
Much Love ♥
Renee
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Oh I can definitely relate to this.. mostly because I've known too many 'chair' people.. I find them disturbingly fascinating though.. something about the conviction strikes me .. .. as in how is it possible to have that kind of faith? ...
I wish I had some pointers but I don't see anything in this that ..stands out and says 'change me' change me..
Wonderful..
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Thank you much, Fully!
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Thanks, Lisa. I like the idea of shaving off the last two lines.
This is a contest entry, and I used it as an excuse to try a more narrative approach; play with metaphor, sense, and time-continuity. I wrote it on the spot. Glad it didn't totally bomb for you.
Job interviews do suck. The only thing I'm concerned about is appearing to care. -
I hate job interviews -- it is all such bullshit. Telling someone how great you are and why you should come work for them doing miraculous things that have never before been accomplished at the Acme Make Me Money Company. All the way remembering to sit up straight and not fold your arms across your chest to appear closed-minded. And that leaning in to appear interested and sitting on the edge of your seat to appear eager crap.
But honestly, I believe if you want to sleep with your new employee or Boss all that should just be discussed up front.
This one isn't as much my bag as the other - but boy do I like that your two poems are completely different styles. I think it is probably the last two lines that don't do it for me most. So I've read it several times without those lines ending with the lovely street man reverand being delivered to the next portal.
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