Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: telepathic message


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.



The Tomato-coloured Couch 12:40 pm

I wrap up My Vulnerability

inside My Thick Grey Robe

holding My Fruitless Heart

close to My Chest

for warmth and reassurance

with My Journal open on My Lap

for the inspiration

of twenty-three years

written into the call

of a lifetime


The Hawk En-suite Bath 7:55pm

Yes, EYE have counted

The Black Stars

left by M(EYE) Body

against The Whiteness

of The Tub & EYE

Yes I, have de-s(EYE)de-ed

that as Their Number

totals ELEVEN

EYE am in

Good Hands


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:45pm

EYE have been slowed

down —

not stopped —

EYE just have to soak M(EYE) Butt

twice a day

in a tub

(no bubbles)

for 22 minutes

and apply a shrinking cream

to M(EYE) Anus.

How nice.


The Hawk Queen Bed 8:37am

Last night I made a giant painting

of clear water-logged vomit*

spewing out of Me

and out of Me

traced with blood in its final throes

as I sat on a sheep fleece

in front of the TV

*Hunter had to clean it up with a whole roll of paper towel


The Hawk Computer 6:04 pm

My Husband, Dr William Hunter Blair, now believes

that My World Trade Center Roof Top Painting from 1984

titled Self Organizing Galaxy

may have given someone the idea

for 9/11


EYE have not been writing much —

EYE have been making recordings into M(EYE) cell phone

in-which M(EYE) Husband does not seem very interested.


The Hawk Kitchen 5:47pm

A Silver Fish on the corner

of My Husband’s writing desk

just went SPLAT

when I slapped My Left Palm

upon Him, He Who was just sitting there

like a spy —

I killed A Bug

to save My Life

and The Sanctity of My Home


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 5:50pm

I have lint bugs elasticized

around My Underwear waist bands

I have seen spies in the little hospital

where I had My Blood drawn

and urine sample surrendered

Am I Going Mad

or is this all perfection

of idiosyncrasies

like The Inclusion I so love

in My Birthday Diamond Ring?


The Tomato-coloured Couch 1:50pm

“I Tried To Get To You”*

Who Do You Think

Showered You with Silver Lights?

Who Do You Think

Provided You with Your Own

Private God

on Your Right Shoulder?

Who Do You Think

has Furnished You with Your Life

You Love So Much

You Don’t Want To Die?

*Ian Curtis of Joy Division