The Hawk Queen Bed 9:07am
In The Depths of Depression
sunk inside a psychiatric unit
I would wait through each day
until I could ready My Self for bed
take My “Meds” at 9:00
put on My Pyjamas
& try to sleep
only to have to face the morning
& the same old Hellish repeat
–
Here On The Hawk
I Put On My Pyjamas
Relaxed
& Go To Bed With My Husband
& Rise Happy
To Check On My Painting
& Drink Our Morning Coffee
The Hawk Utility Room 7:56pm
I stood above
My Mother’s Killer
dying on the basement floor
I thought of all
I’ve done to fill Her
and now can sleep
forever more
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:19pm
My Mother’s Brain Tumour
is dying
on the basement floor
is soon to be
enveloped by
perhaps a silver heart
but
the “roots”
will
survive
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:00pm
On This Day in 1991
I was told My Mother wouldn’t live
through the spring
I vowed to My Self
I would not feel the pain
of Her Loss
I kept My Vow
The Tomato-coloured Couch 8:24pm
Today I went to Sobey’s
in My Husband’s old paint pants
belted
but first I had to go to the bank
& walking over
in an October wind
I felt, for the first time:
I really am an artist
living in Nova Scotia
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:06pm
Out of the murky darkness
of a stupid little hospiral (typo I will keep) room
almost 22 years ago
I saw what I am inspired
to paint now —
God’s Joke
in brown, gold & pink —
should I stick to the original
or should I go for The Update
or could I use
BOTH PALETTES?
The Hawk West Desk Window NOON
I have My Paint Clothes on:
Black Marks and Spencer pants
of My Husband’s
from twenty years ago —
a little girl’s white knitted top
with pearl buttons
no jewellery except for My Silver Hoops
I’m waiting for My Canvas
to be delivered
I’m churning
My Meaning Of Life
over & over
in My Brain
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:28pm
The Meaning Of Life
opened out before
My Eyes
from a pod of brown
cracked with gold
revealing something pink —
God’s Magnificent Joke?
Oh! It’s The Reason
For Schizophrenia
Now I Will Paint It
BLACK
FUCHSIA
&
SILVER!!!!
The Hawk Portico 5:07pm
How does The Jay
call Me so, back
into the the early reaches
of My Childhood?
–
Is that why We have
distinctive bird song
to harken back
to parts We shan’t
forget?
Joanna Gilman Hyde 