May 18, 2008
Hold me Grandpa
What I’m most scared of, Grandpa, is mine own sanity!
Mine own psyche to be consumed by mine own psyche.
Cannibalised – sliced, diced, consumed by the rolling monster.
Lost in the serene orderly clutter,
To be scavenged like a corpse to vultures.
‘
And there I’ll be pacified for hours by Willow-the-Wisp,
Or turn up for work without my trousers, or
Give up quite stoic the turmoil of the rational world.
And in my bliss I’ll find solace in the rational calm
Of my neat madness.
‘
Please, Grandpa, I don’t want to be one of Nietzsche’s Sleepies,
Nor engulfed by the frenzied crazies of Heracles and lose all I hold dear.
What scares me most, Grandpa, is to fall -
Fall beyond the slate cliff and into the inky depths of Plath’s bell jar,
To walk with you unequal.
‘
Reach out for me, Grandpa; stay with me as I cling on to all I find dear.
Beat away those eyes, hands, and black fingernails that claw at my body.
Press the egging echoes that rise like bubbles of sulphurous air from my deep
Conscience. Save me, Grandpa! Save me from mine own mind,
Before I fall to its simple allure.
‘
Grandpa, I beg, never leave my side. Let your spirit hold me close.
I feel the day approach where I lose my desire to stay.
And that time will see the moment when I forego all my chattels for -
The quietness, the sleepiness, the deepest despair,
That fate whispers as my true destiny.