MILLION DOLLAR MORNING
The Hawk Dining Room 10:00am
How many times can I write
of The Silver Streaks
replicated from My Head
across My Newest Ocean?
A Million Times for I have
found a thousand opportunities
inside a game
which can only go
up
The Hawk Dining Room 10:00am
How many times can I write
of The Silver Streaks
replicated from My Head
across My Newest Ocean?
A Million Times for I have
found a thousand opportunities
inside a game
which can only go
up
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:22pm
She sits in black leggings
left foot tucked under
right thigh
couched on The Tomato-coloured Couch
Where Else?
under Her Depiction
of The Glory & The Fall
titled “My Black Star”
She wears Her Most Expensive Earrings
& socks with cats
given to Her by a coffee-drinking friend
She has come many miles
& many moons
to achieve Her Place
here
& plans to stay
as long as it takes
to answer Humanity’s Fatalistic Questions
There is no such “thing” as “mental illness.” There is no true illness which can be said to be entirely “mental” unless it is derived from an organic source such as a brain tumour. There are no physical attributes in the human body which can point to this description. There is no pre-determining test for “mental illness.” The psychiatric diagnosis used to determine the supposed state of “mental illness” is opinion-based at best, and most often this opinion is not shared by the individual in question. At worst this opinion is often shared by family members, friends, and society as a whole, creating a kind of trap or “Catch 22” for the individual.
–
What we see when we attempt to use this stigmatizing and false description of “mental illness” is an array of human self expression which may be affected by, or resulting from, changes in environment, sleep patterns, physical activity, thought, perception, interaction with others, or any conglomeration of naturally occurring factors which can and do affect all of us as human beings.
–
We are variable and complex. To lump any of us into “categories” of “mental illness” is a grave disservice to humanity.
Written by Joanna Gilman Hyde Blair
The Hawk Dining Room 9:06am
The Silver Glare
off The Sea
leaks into My Eyes
It makes Me thirsty
to watch It so
I’ll drink My Glass
marked “LIFE”
The Hawk Portico 1:50pm
Twenty years or so ago
I asked My Carpenter Husband
to build Me A Church —
“It would be a folly,” was His Answer —
Well I have My Church:
I have My Body, My Temple
I have My House By The Sea
I have My Small Town Nova Scotia
I have My Country Canada
& So I Have My World
The Hawk Outpost 5:08pm
My View of The Ocean
rises unadorned
but for the faint swath of pink
from The Sun behind Me
having set, earlier
than before
The Hawk Outpost 10:25am
The Birds on the wire
know not
the chaos to come
in human terms
Let Nature be spelled
& All Birds
sanctified
The Hawk Dining Room 9:30am
The Morning Glare
off My Ocean
fills My Room
with liquid light
I glimpse My Self
in My Mother’s Mirror
to catch That Figure
of foreseeable might
The Hawk Living Room 1:28pm
One Weekend in Early November
My Daughter decided
to quit school
— finishing out the semester of course —
to go to Florida
to work on a boat
— the powering kind —
She wrote a to-do list
blended up an avocado smoothie
for Me to taste
& That was That