Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: existence

July 27, 2016

ON A FOREST FLOOR

The Hawk Beach 8:11pm

There were three loose dogs

on The Hawk Beach tonight

so I turned South West

toward The Drowned Forest —

The Tide was out revealing

an extended array of ancient stumps

haggled in rock weed

twisted roots of prehistoric origin

continuing their grope through a sandy bog bed —

I came past the mysterious line

of purposely positioned stalks

to where an outcropping

of larger mangled trunks mingled

with the off-shore boulders

and I sat upon a square white rock

to write as The Sun went down

behind

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July 27, 2016

WEEK 6

The Hawk Deck 10:10am

I have said Good-bye

to My Darling Cow Bird

Whose love affair with My Car Mirror

is gone

He bowed off with another

female two weeks ago —

I have said Hello

to My Husband

and will be hanging The Bedding

in Our Hot Sun

I will be playing

The Cow Bird’s Song

on an internet recording

for The Arrival

of My Children

one week

tomorrow

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July 26, 2016

MOTH TRICK?

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 4:57pm

I saw a yellow-tipped moth today

out on the deck

next to one of My Red Deck Chairs

He looked like an autumn leaf.

Later I saw the same shaped moth

on a chair of black —

the yellow was gone.

Could He have changed?

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July 25, 2016

MY PLACE

The Hawk Beach 2:45pm

I have walked The High Tide Line

to The Restoration of My Reason

and so have reached The Guzzle

a rivulet of blue and aqua

flowing into The Atlantic Waves —

I have satisfied God’s demands

to feel the need

of living and so

I sit with a flock of gulls

adjacent to The Supreme Essence

of Peace I have become

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July 25, 2016

ROCKS

The Hawk Beach NOON

I threw away a fantasy rock

into the depths of the bamboo hedge

never to be found

despite rubber gloves

rubber boots

and heavy brown pants

I may never wear again

instead

I walked to The Hawk Beach

and setting foot

on the ledge of piled stones

I found three great ones —

a double-lined, a single-lined

and an oblong grey

side-swiped with white

to put at My Front Step

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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 20, 2016

A SAD LITTLE POEM

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 9:15pm

I think I fatally injured

an innocent spider

down in the cellar

cleaning out the kitty box —

did I sweep Him too hard

with the broom?

I think I may have stepped on Him

as He crumpled up and then lay flat

moving only briefly

before I put Him in My Palm

and emptied Him

into the trash

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July 20, 2016

STOLEN HEART

The Hawk Deck 12:43pm

I had a robbery

of My Family’s Happiness

sitting in a Jacuzzi

in Toronto

with Eliza running around

the edge —

I had a robbery

of My Love for My Husband

My Handsome Capable Carpenter —

The Father of My 2.4 Children

I had a robbery

of My Son’s Happy Childhood

when I told Him at age eleven

His Parents were separating

I had a robbery

of My First Marriage

by a skinny little doctor

who called Me a “seer”

on April Fool’s Day

the morning after

My Sacred Shower Of Silver Lights

which NOBODY

will ever

STEAL

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July 20, 2016

WEEK 5

The Hawk Outpost 10:03am

I have to look at The Ocean

differently now —

I can not see

My Future of sexual bliss

in Its glitter

Its beauty is of The Past —

of The Shower of Silver Lights

where no man

but God

was present

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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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