Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: daughter

“GOOD MORNING, WORLD!” read aloud

 

“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

*

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LABOUR DAY

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

BACK FROM ATLANTIC

Highway 103, NS 2:22pm

Today I washed some dishes

left by My Daughter

in the house in Atlantic

My First Marital House

where My Third Child was conceived

and aborted on the anniversary

of My Mother’s Death

My Daughter is going to college

this weekend

My Son is out west

— I may see Him at Christmastime

and .4 — that’s what I call Him/Her —

is not in heaven

because I don’t believe in heaven

She/He is still with Me

My Body is My Heaven

JUNK MAIL

The Hawk Library 5:25pm

I sit across from The Golden Gleam

of My Husband’s Collection of Folio Books

it is here I can prepare My Dream

of Intelligence vs Intellect

recollect My Childhood Scheme

gathering boxes of My Mother’s Junk Mail

calling Them My “Indeportanz”

MORNING APPLE

The Hawk Deck 10:35am

I bit into My Morning Apple

and bit into The Fall

Eliza’s off to school next week

and I will be alone with Hunter

The Cats

and breezy lines of wash

WHAT IS THIS ABOUT?

The Hawk Living Room 1:40pm

I made My Way through

New York City

going to bed with men

just because they took Me

out to dinner

I married for Nova Scotia

& for My Mother

then I lost Her

somewhere on The High Seas

& gained an insight

into something no one else could

sea

except — there always has to be

An Except —

One Little Man

Who unwittingly took My Heart

while My Second Husband

has My Twat

I’VE GOT THE POWER

The Hawk Living Room 6:50pm

My Shredded Manuscript has been found —

not the shreds, which were dumped

at the side of the road

in three clear garbage bags

two years ago —

but a surviving copy

in Vermont

in an old farm house

belonging to My Stepmother

Who shared in My Happiness today

when I called Her

& She asked, ” Have You heard

The Good News?”

My suicidal activity

has been undone

& I don’t have to DO anything

with The Resurrection

like re-write It

into an epic poem

I can merely bask

in Its discovery

& know that It’s safe

driven by Eliza & Her Boyfriend

home by Saturday

MY BOOK NAMED “SAM”

The Hawk Deck 10:45am

Two years ago I spent

an entire afternoon

shredding five copies of a 364-page manuscript

I wrote after My Mother died

I set up the shredder from My Husband’s office

and opened the first of five bottles of beer

In those next seven hours

There went all the sections, chapters

ten pages at a time

with the shredder quitting every twenty minutes —

There went the first chapter

of My Tragic Brother overlapping

My Mother’s diagnosis

October 2, 1991

of a malignant brain tumour —

There went the chapters on living

with Her Illness and Decline

There went the chapter on The Death

March 27, 1993

There went the chapter on The Cremation

with The Chickadee’s Visit

There went Me

on no sleep

for four days — There went

The Shower of Silver Lights

on March 31st, 1993

There went The Little Doctor

calling Me a “Seer” on April Fool’s Day —

There went The First Depression

There went The Magical Moment

October 22, 1993 with The Little Doctor

There went The Telepathic Message

with Him :  Dr David Hamilton Wilson

There went My Second Pregnancy —

The Baby Girl I Dreamt Up —

infant I breast fed until She was two*

There went the section on writing the book

and getting literally lost in My Work

on a rented computer

There went subsequent depressions

Dreams of The Little Doctor

There went forever, maybe,

the description of My Childhood Parrot “Sam”

whose faulty clipping job I attempted

at My age of eleven which left him

unable to fly in My Bedroom

(which for some reason I didn’t want Him to do)

but left Him able only to veer off in sickly circles

until I had to give Him up to another little girl

when He became a problem at the Canadian/US border

at each summer crossing

Finally there went the last line of the book

which I will always have, written in June of 1996

as a married woman:

“The Bird In My Hand Is Worth Two In My Bush”

*Daughter Eliza now looking for possible surviving copy

2:00pm — Daughter Eliza FOUND IT in My Stepmother’s farmhouse in Vermont

REMNANTS

The Hawk Portico 5:46pm

I hear The Chickadee

& an outboard motor

& think of My Mother

My Mother traversing the waves

to get out to Mc Nutt Island

A Place I swore never

to forget

yet It has caused Me pain

& grief when She died

but I own Her house no longer

merely some land

which My Children

are destined

to inherit

WARM SILVER

The Hawk Deck 10:40pm

Dressed in My Warm Silver Robe

I have drunk the repletion

of My Life’s Waters so far

I am out on My Deck

on a windless morning

sun ablaze

I am in a haze

of happy Self

Note:  written

while My Daughter happens to be

hunting

in Vermont

for one possible surviving copy

of My 364 page

Manuscript