MORNING RITUAL
The Hawk Kitchen 8:35am
I haven’t yet drunk
from The Cup Of Life
I haven’t yet stared
at The Grey Sea
before Me
but by The Time You read this
I will have done so
I want You for My Candy Man Caramel
I mean Camera Man
I want Your One Eye for Mine
All Mine
before the ball gets rolling
I want You to drive with Me
in Your Big Rich Car
I want You to walk with Me
through the smelly corridor
to My Place
so You know You’re in The Right Place
The Place of Its own dis-stink-tion
Oh, You can take Your Camera out all right
just don’t aim it at My Face
just get The Incoming Hall
show The Interior on Its way — The Way
to My Living Gallery
complete with Hall of Fame and Identity Room
–
I want You as Dr Drosselmeyer
with a black patch
with Me as Your Director
with You as The Player
of Me Your Instrument
carry Your Instrument
to The Second Floor
and ring the buzzer
see if They let Us in
shall I show You My Hall of Fame?
the only section with any natural light
over here to the left with sun
actual sun — if They haven’t got it locked
We can see The Anonymous Work
of Former Patients and My Brother’s Mural
on an Eastern window a close-up
of The North End of Our Island
with the full moon above a fishing boat
across from It is My Maple Leaf Map
of Quebec with Its South-Western Boundary
explained to a man with no name
as The Region of Poetic Lie-Sense
You can zoom in on that My Man and aim
above to the ceiling where You’ll find
ceiling tiles gaily painted and unsigned
One of them
is Mine
more ice cream
You know what? I painted once
there an ice cream sundae
The Fire Alarm was The Cherry On Top
somebody painted a wall over It
and nobody knows why
but it’s sunny down that Hall of Fame
at least it’s sunny
The Man With No Name
has a place to go before They lock Him
out of there
–
into The Cloister I’ll eagerly take You
before We get to The Inner Sanctum
(well We have no choice with The Cloister
It houses The Inner Sanctum where My Identity lurks)
–
now steady That Hand as I show You
images of My Past Present Future
(We’ll ignore The Observation Desk
just look straight ahead)
on the wall before You
across from You as You enter
The Light-less Cloister
is The Image of Mother and Child
playing with dough
I call this My Foundation
under It I was interviewed once
as to why I was Present and now
The Furniture has changed
the table and two chairs of The Assessment have been replaced
by a settee
My Past Life with My Mother — My Mother’s Dream
where no one was present but Ourselves
is replaced
–
on the adjacent wall to the right
of My Past
hangs My Present My Gift
My Dream observed by You My Lover
where I sit in ruffled white
at the age of fourteen
distracted by a dark kitten
above My Left Shoulder
I am couched in a rattan chair
thrown with exotic fabric
picture book upon My Open Lap
tiger rug at Black Stockinged Feet
My Present My Game My Fantasy
and Yours hangs upon This Wall to be walked past
A Wall once housing a big white bulletin board
displaying patients’ “levels”
now moved down the Hall of Bedrooms
–
The Bedrooms have no sun either
–
hold Your Camera down down
We do not need to go Down There
The Sleep I’ve had in Those Rooms
has been therapeutic sleep
monitored
lied about
The Dreams There were of black globs
I was a gelatinous black cloud of quivering coal
until I heard an alarm somewhere
rising
out into the hall I leapt to save The Life
as only I could of A Man I see linked to Me
for My Sanity when I’m There
–
enough of The Past – let’s talk
to A Woman named Lorraine
for Whom all that glitters IS gold
Whose art is the lyric of colour
with seeds made into flowers
“Hi Dr Blair what are You doing with that camera?”
She would ask
I would ask
“Lorraine could I see Your earring collection?”
and I would arrange Them for You only You
to show You My Annual Cycle of Life for Aliens
I would find the felt-blue crystal shapes
for winter at three o’clock
the double raindrops for spring at six
the fireworks for summer at nine and for fall
the pumpkin shells at midnight
I would put one four-leaf clover in the middle
and hand You the mate for good luck
for We must always have a bit o’green
–
Lorraine has a lipstick collection too
forty in all since We gave Her four new ones
for Christmas
and You know She grows a beard a goatee
and I told You how picking The Colours
became a test for Me:
what’s a true red
a true pink
a true orange and a real brown?
–
I’ll take You now
by Your Left Hand over to The Desk
where The Image of My Future glares
out from the eyes of A Dark Haired Child
in white with blue satin sash holding
a basket of cherries She stops Us
at the door to The Medication Room
from Her Left Finger Tips dangle two heart-shaped cherries
within the glistening bivalves I see
My Self and My Other Half
The Poison and The Remedy
being told ordered to take take take but
THIS is My Future
THIS is My God in Your Face
–
and for You just You I will touch
Your Face and turn Your Head away
toward The Therapeutic Quiet Room
where They put Me
by force of Code White Team
including one black doctor
(after I attempted to secure Lorraine’s Expression
in a vault on The Administration Floor)
They locked Me in That Room
where I lay on a mattress
doing all I could do
looking around and around
to the writing on the wall
I saw A Star drawn at My Head
and The Word C-O-M-P-A-S-S-I-O-N
along My Right and I knew then
I’d been tricked and found
God put Me in that Inner Sanctum
to find My True Self
My Identity
in The Writing On The Wall
but I was still alive
so I could finally say
“I Am A Star and My Message
My Tag Line is COMPASSION”
God laughed cruelly at Me There
on That Mattress God — My Own God-Damned God
howled through Me at the irony
and off I stripped My Golden Tee
to show anything that happened to be underneath
–
come now let Me show You
yes We’ll go in There — They’ll let Us
They can’t “handle” Me anymore
We’ll go into that cubicle
behind waist-high louvred windows
I’ll show You just where I sat
in a black bra and You can see My Back
The Sky is on My Back
You can zoom in and I’ll name
the three-dimensional mole The Sun
and You can shoot Me lying down
while I cover My Face with My Hands
–
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:20pm
I Am Wearing My Witch’s Robe
Coloured Purple Velour
With Black Stitching
Repairing A Hole
Made By My Black Cat Astro
Once When I Cuddled Him
On My Lap
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:48pm
I Have Arrived
Where I Am
I Know Not How
I Know Not Why
Yet I Believe I Will Know
Before I Die
The Tomato-coloured Couch 9:25pm
I have done battle with God
all My Life
literally & figuratively
I have been caught
& unleashed
I have leashed, caught
& commanded
dismissed
& been dismissed
but Today
I am victorious
in Today’s Dismissal
I have regained
My True Self:
that which is
in God
& that in-which
God is
The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:45pm
I AM NOT AN ARTIST
WRITING IN FEROCITY
I AM SICK OF WAITING
ON THIS CUSP OF CHAOS
I AM ONE HUMAN BEING
CAUGHT
IN THE NET OF SELECTIVE
MIND WORKS
CONVEYED AS ART/POETRY
BUT THAT IS NOT
WHO I AM
I AM PUSHING OUT
THE MADE-UP PERSONAE
OF BLACK JESUS, SILVER CHRIST, THE ANTI-CHRIST
I AM DENYING GOD
HAVING A HOLD ON ME
I was just an innocent girl
when The Shower of Lights
befell Me
I thought They were from God
Well, I have news
BIG NEWS —
THEY WERE FROM MY MIND
MY MIND CREATED THEM —
I CREATED THE NOTION OF GOD
IN MY MIND
MY MIND IS GREATER THAN GOD
God is a pee wee
The Hawk Kitchen 12:24pm
I just spewed out An Arm
of The Milky Way
across My Marble-ized Kitchen Floor
when I stood at The Fridge
& violently shook The Parmesan Jar
in the only way I knew how
to break up A Ball of Cheese
not knowing The Flip Cap was loose
The Hawk Deck 8:51am
The Sea is liquid silver
in these early morning hours
I take solace in The Surf
to The North of where I sit
soaking in a last day of summer
with birds abuzz & cats
stirring on The Deck
“Good Morning, World!”
and to the rest of you
that are still asleep –
This Is Your Mother
Speaking:
It’s Time To Go To School
and I mean
REAL SCHOOL –
It’s Time To Go
BACK to Your
Kitchens, Women, &
cook for Your
decreasing Families,
It’s Time, Children, To Get On
The Bus of Human Intelligence
for Our Fight:
The Fight of Our Lives
as Human Beings on
This Planet –
for That is
All We Are — We
are Human &
We are God –
& We Cannot Continue
as We have been
for however many
thousands or millions of
years.
This is Your MOTHER
SPEAKING — CRYING
For You, My Children,
to Stop Killing
Yourselves
through Your Own
desperation, &
stupidity –
I Love You All
Dearly
& without You I
would
Die!”
“WAKE UP WORLD &
smell The Coffee –
drink that Tim Horton’s
& Think of Me.
Watch This Television
until You are Blue
in The Face,
which is MY
FACE –
You have desecrated
Me with
Your naivety, Your
revulsion & Mine,
for You & Me &
Now –
I can no longer look
My Self in The Face
& Smile
Because of YOU
(red star, red star)
October 1st, 2010 THE HAWK
continued from Diary:
I AM THE RED STAR –
I AM THE ALERT BUTTON
on Your Car
remote
Listen to Me — You are
All I Have Left
here,
& here is the Only Place
We know of
which sustains us, somewhat,
& which sustains Me,
Your Guiding Star
Your Furious Mother –
and Who was My Furious
Mother, You may ask?
She is Dead Now & Somewhere
out There, Haunting Me
as I am aiming now to
Haunt You,
& Haunt You I Will,
Until You Turn Around,
with The Earth,
with The Light of Our
Yellow Star –
Soon To Turn Red.
I am speaking to You from
This Black Box, This Hole
But I Can See You,
like The Romper Room Lady –
I am Magic, if You
believe in Magic
– and I feel You must
believe in Something –
There is The Divine, for
I have felt Its Wrath –
There is God, for I have
been beaten down by Him,
now, into this heaving mass
of Human Organism
which rises up before You,
to Speak to You
from The Device I Loathe:
The Device of Corruption, Greed,
Sloth, & Desire.
Yes, I Desire You,
I Desire That You Wake Up
to Hear Me, That You
Wake Up to Feel Me, For
What Am I To You But
All That Is Left of
possible salvation?
I am Your Mother & My
Mother before Me, & Her Mother,
& My Father’s Mother & Her
Mother — I AM ALL MOTHERS
I Speak For The Salvation
of The Children of God
WHO MUST NOW, FINALLY,
GROW UP
*
The Hawk West Desk Window 2:22pm
My Children are inching Their Way
farther & farther away from Me —
Peak is bound for British Columbia
Eliza has begun Her First Year Of College
but rather than succumb to The Empty Nest
I must grow with Them & be The Best
Care-taker of My Self —
be My Own Mother