Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: artist

August 28, 2016

THE APPARITION

The Hawk Queen Bed 4:38pm

Today on 2 hrs sleep

from 2 mgs Ativan

I began the sculpted head

of My Beautiful Dark Haired Woman

Who appeared on My Right Shoulder

in Roseway Hospital

October 1993

–

She said a lullaby in My Ear —

the most melodious voice I had ever heard

and today I have swaddled a Styrofoam core

in thin slices of plasticine

hyperventilating as I went

hearing My Son’s suggestion

from yesterday’s walk on The Hawk Beach —

“Mom, why don’t You just

exhaust Your Self?”

every slice

from a red-handled knife My Brother gave Me

pushed Me on to panel the form —

My Goal was to cover it, and I did

after carving HTWH in the Styrofoam skull

resting on My Ceramic Bluenose Plate

My Keepsake from the childhood crossings

in that vessel from Bar Harbor, Maine

to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia

when I was so happy

with My Little Family

of Mother, Brother and Me

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August 3, 2016

SEEKING SOLITUDE

The Hawk Beach 7:55pm

Eye had just started to write

The Guzzle is @ Its deepest

when the incoming tide

churns its way toward Me

along the far edge

caught in the evening light

like a mini Grand Canyon —

then Eye heard a BUZZ —

a giant flying insect?

Eye looked overhead & guessed

Eye was being spied upon

by M(eye) 1st Ever Drone!

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August 2, 2016

ONE AT A TIME

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:15pm

Now when I reach

for My Life Glass

it is not to quench

My Unquenchable Thirst

drug-induced —

that craving is gone forever

now when I reach

for My Beautiful Glass

it is to take in

the moderate fare

of My Drug-free* Living

by one or two sips

 

*still taking 1mg Clonazepam for sleep to be weaned off

after My Children leave

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July 31, 2016

ONE LOST PAINTING

The Hawk West Desk Window 7:28pm

It filled My Mother’s Sun Deck

during a student year

I used a lot of black

with three blotches of red

positioned unintentionally like cherries

on a banana split

I left It out overnight

when the wind got up

and stuck the paint with leaves

and shaped the canvas

into a highlighted streak

of accidental luminosity

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July 30, 2016

ENERGIZED

The Hawk Beach 7:00pm

Beside My Lovely Guzzle

The Transparency of Flaming June

is complete —

finished in a two-day almost frenzy

& I am almost exhausted —

here for My Fortification

with The Waves @ My Sneakers

I have somewhere to go

while My Husband rows

His Dory

and We take a break

from discussions of

The Medical Cartel

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July 24, 2016

HELICOPTER ART

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 12:06pm

At 13 I flew

in a helicopter

off the Mc Nutt Island Light Station

to Baccaro, Nova Scotia

and decided to become

a helicopter pilot

doing art on the side

–

At 15 for My Birthday

My Mother provided

My First and Only Lesson

and took a photograph

a double exposure

of Me with My Braid

belting My Self in

–

At 16 I drove My Mother’s VW Square Back

to Spring Valley, New York

to go for a ride

and had the pilot buzz

Nyack High School —

when We got back to the pad

I tried to leave

without paying

–

At 18 I couldn’t get in

to The Coast Guard Academy in Connecticut

because of poor eyesight

and went to Wells College instead

taking all the art

I could take

to transfer into

The Cooper Union for The Advancement of Science and Art

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July 22, 2016

THE TRANSPARENCY OF FLAMING JUNE

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:26pm

My Computerized-tinted Pallette

for The Inspiration

of Flaming June’s Dress

is made up of flaming orange “Zambia”

darker “Darling”

yellow “Evening Star”

“Wild Flower Bouquet” — pink

“Liliana” — aqua marine

sample can of “Hyper”

& down in the cellar

“Banana Daiquiri” from Our En-suite Bath

“Sea Spa” — never-used trim colour

& an old gallon of white semi-gloss —

if M(eye) Transparency is not

see-through enough

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July 19, 2016

LETTER TO MY DEAR READERS

The Hawk TV Room:

Since writing the poem “No Ativan”  I have had to take it for severe sleep deprivation following the too hasty removal of a tranquillizer named Clonazepam which I had been taking to fend off the withdrawal effects of quitting the drug My Husband is now calling “Evil” — Olanzapine.  Along with coming to terms that not only was Olanzapine making me psychotic for eighteen years, the drugs I was taking after my mother died in 1993 were also making me psychotic and resulted in a twenty-three year romantic fixation on another doctor — the realization of this has just come to me today.  What I thought was true love in my mind, based on a “telepathic message” and a “magical moment” with this particular man, was nothing more than my mind’s own trickery due to anti-depressants  I was taking at the time and which induced a manic episode I wrote about and held to my heart for all these years.  I am no longer doing this.  It is a great relief.

Joanna

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July 14, 2016

NOTICE TO MY READERS

The Hawk TV Room 8:46am

I have added one line to “Just How Bad Was I?”  Since I have been off the anti-psychotic medication Olanzapine for one month, and over the devastating effects of drug-induced psychosis which I had unknowingly been under for the duration of My “psychiatric history” of twenty-three years — I have only the beginnings of realization as to how much this has not only affected my life, but my writing and art.  I have sincere appreciation for your readership.

Thank you,

Joanna

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July 13, 2016

DOWN BY THE GUZZLE

The Hawk Beach 2:57pm

My Father never had Me

or when He did

He pimped Me off

or felt the need

to collect Me from sleepless

hotel rooms —

His Best Hope for Me

(My Brother He had given up on)

was to say,

“You are in ‘Recovery'”

Well — if He could see Me NOW

down by The Guzzle

in The South Wind of July

sitting in The Sand of My Achievement

He might come down from Heaven

or where ever He ended up

and shake My Hand

and send Me on My Way

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