Before you
I didn't know what crazy was,
I thought it was short
for wild or cool
for someone with a spirit
too big for this world.
Just a word some fifties hipster
said in my head,
"craaazy, man, crazy,"
but suddenly
everywhere, you were there,
crazy, gifted, holding it together
almost
in ash-littered clubs reeking of beer
or blacked-out bars with
chalkboards and nachos
or studios where
rock-chicks stubbed cigarettes out
on the floor,
grinding them into the carpet
with boots
all snapping fingers
and pop music,
then crackle
the sound
of E - C - T.
Before you,
crazy was a compliment:
unconventional, full of fun,
not
living with razors in the mouth
of an abyss awash with wine
and digestive enzymes,
the throat of darkness a reflux away
and me using all my strength
to hold onto the edge
with medicine and magic
bleeding money
while you
blackmail me
manipulate
and starve us both of love
then in an instant
leave me and embrace instead
the sun.
Before you
I thought I was kind,
loving, attractive, sexy,
funny and blessed with talent
that would bring me all the good
of the world.
But now i hope, if it's not too late
that I have, maybe, saved myself
from ruin;
escaped the legions of those condemned
to life in hospitals for the damned.
And I have learned
that I am not kind or loving
or beautiful;
for months and years have passed,
yet poison pours out, scalding the air
each time I speak your name.
Day by day,
I learn to live with my own indecency.
A decent person would learn to forget,
would forgive,
for those who suffer so are,
by definition, not responsible;
they're just
Crazy.
Author notes
In the UK, psychiatric patients sufferring from bi-polar disorder may be given ECT (electro-convulsive therapy) if doctors judge that medication alone is having no effect on their recovery. Some patients do respond to it alone; but no-one knows why or how the treatment - which involves giving a patient an anaesthetic and a muscle relaxant, then physically restraining him while passing currents of electricity through his brain - works.
ECT has been outlawed in most of the rest of Europe.
Comments
1 - 25 of 25
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i like this poem...it's very pretty, though the topic is not so much pretty....
ECT, or "shock therapy" doesn't work...it may temporary lift the depression or squash the mania, but it doesn't work in the long run...but it's making a come back here in the US of A....sadly....
anyways, i liked the poem a lot....
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very deeply felt........an awakening of ones self and watching a metamorphisis...I like the style in which you write. Not ponderous not awash with self pity or heavy with sentiment. very nice job! LD
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Strong and provacative.
Excellently done. Halucinatory, delusional, bizarre, disparing, threatening, etc. Brilliantly written.
My mother suffered from bi-polar disorder, and ECT only frieghtened her into avoiding all treatment. A cruel and medieval torture.
One of the great things about forgiveness is that we are not asked to forget; only give up the right to seek revenge. Remembering; such as your poem does, allows us to be motivated to face such issues as mental illness.
I see from the other comments that you have hit a chord with many others.
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RAW
Hi,
And I thought I was the only one who wrote about the life of mental illness.
This poem is electrifying (Partial Pun Intention) I've met numerous people in therapy, that had had ECT for being suicidaly depressed, and had difficulties with meds...Many were happy with it....
The Imagery you use is just stark....The first stanza is film noir....grinding out cigaretts into carpet...I can feel the smoke in my hair...
Thank you for sharing this poem....I feel validated...by you cynical staking out of your subject....the consistentcy of rhythm, your superb use of words, and the vulnerability of this work....Artfully written.....ttfn Laurel -
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Very glad you connectd...
...all puns intended. Yes, mental illness is one of my topics, i lived a long time in its shadow, maybe always will...and with the shadows of other realted things like what happens to people who drink themselves to death... But hey, writing is good, get it down and OUT. Then let others read, share, it's a good experience to get feedback like yours - healing and wholeness not just rack and ruin. All the very best RA
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Crazy for this poem
There's a thin line between genius and madness. Who knows what normal or crazy really is. Any one who hurts him/herself or others should be treated or restrained.
And no one can balme him/herself for onother's craziness unless they provoke it.
Anyway, another great poem from you. I liked the structure and rhythm, excellent imagery and tone.
The voice screams out from within the poem and is heard loud and clear.
Fav for me:I learn to live with my own indecency.
A decent person would learn to forget,
would forgive,
Excellent read,
~Rich(G2A)
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Hi, RA. An amazing, overwhelming, original, fascinating look into madness, and the seductive nature of insanity over our imaginations. ECT, incidentally, is still used in the US-- and you're right. No one knows exactly how or wy it works sometimes-- presumably, it kills millions of brain cells at a pop, and they hope that it kills the right ones. That's it. It's Russian roulette with a light socket.
I love this piece. My grandmother has a personality disorder, and my father is bipolar, so this spoke very clearly to me-- insanity is either demonized or glamorized or both in films and in literature. And the insane can be very charming-- my father and grandmother are both intensely charismatic people. But no one can deal with them for long, because, as you so accurately put it, they
"blackmail me
manipulate
and starve us both of love. . ."
I could scarcely pick out a favorite line-- I really enjoyed the introductory stanzas of our misconceptions about mental illness, and then the turning point, with the powerful, honest images of
"living with razors in the mouth
of an abyss awash with wine
and digestive enzymes,
the throat of darkness a reflux away
and me using all my strength
to hold onto the edge
with medicine and magic
bleeding money. . ."
Incredible. I hope sincerely that you do not blame yourself anymore though. Often, the only sane choice we can make, unfortunately, is to leave them. Our self-preservation relies upon it.
Cheers,
Pie
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Wow! As you may or may not know I am a recovering Alcholic. going on two years sober and many of my AA friends are bi-polar........I see their misery and confusion......and how they can affect the lives of those around them. I have learned in AA that sick people make other people sick...the trick is to understand their illness and understand that the craziness they put us through are just symptoms of their illness...and nothing for which we are responsible...............well put verse with a lot of sincerity to it. Congrats on another great write! LD
. Rewarded 8
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Those guys from AA are wise....
Sick people make others sick. After 7 years I looked into the abyss my partner lived in , saw how I was getting ill myself and bolted 400 miles to the isle of Skye. If I hadn't done it I don't think I'd ever have recovered...
Sometimes people become ill when you're with them and will be healed again but some are truly in hell and only God knows what can save them if anything. Only 17% of drinkers recover and bipolar people can be dealing with a number of things all at once which reduces their chances even more.
It's no cliche to say that one has to find the strength in oneself to recover if you can but that no-one do it alone. God knows it hurt then and still does at times but the support can't just come from outside. But being sick like that reduces one's capacity for responsibility and one's will to fight - my heart still goes out to all who suffer like this yet I am NOT going down that superhighway again - Best to you RA
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This was wonderful. So often we take for granted the true meaning of words and it takes something like this work to shock us back to reality. The lines "But now i hope, if it's not too late
that I have, maybe, saved myself
from ruin;" really brought home the impact that mental illness can have on everyone associated with the ill, as well as reminding one of how fuzzy the lines actually are between the sane and insane. Thanks!
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Thanks RM, you've put you eagle eye on
exactly the engine of the poem - the drastic shift in expectations. It's interesting how people "hear" different sections... and of course how these illnesses are not just something that happen to other people but are all around us. Glad you clicked with it/on it and nice to catch up with you again. Best RA
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I read the title and knew this poem would suit me. I use the term too often, but in my case crazy was always two things. Crazy = strangeness and crazy = mental state. I have seen it in both meanings and have known how it can tear you apart, just being with people who live in that world.
I like the contrast painted so starkly. The difference between the two definitions of crazy. How the word evloves as you bare witness to the darker meaning of a word colloquially used. The second stanza rips all those ideas out in the most gritty way i've ever read. This particular poem felt very jagged and tough. I like the tone it took. It has attitude, not angry but it sounds like a activist screaming on the streets.The second stanza reminds me of how people around me would say 'love isn't enough.' For in that state of crazy it consumes and eats the very life from anyone. We can try, try with our best effort, but it seems to always be lost in that craziness.
The last stanza (specifically the last few lines) is something i have realized as i dealt with 'crazy.'
This was a poem that shook me. It spoke of a world i knew as is---no sugar coating. Beautiful RA!
-iphios -
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"Eats the life" is a good phrase
.. and yes, i'm agitated about it not just angry. And I'm sorry to hear it, but it sounds like you know something about this particularly shite path towards greater self-awareness... You've given this the compliment of your close attention, Iphios... thanks, catch you soon Best
RA
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bravo
I very much enjoyed the subject and way you tackled it. This poem was like a thriller type novel. I couldn't wait to read the next line. I liked the choppiness of it and how that also fed the subject matter. Very interesting and beautifully odd.
. Rewarded 4
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Thanks... glad it pleased you.
I like "odd" seems to me you're an original so it's a great word to come from you - best RA
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hey river
i guess being "crazy" is cool...as long as its's not really crazy. i abhor shock treatment which i put up there with lobotomy, i thought this was a very good poem but would be even better as a memoir piece.
dave. Rewarded 4
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A bit of a shock...
It moves along well, Alex. I liked how the second stanza became chopped and staccato as the poem, like its subject's momentum, faltered. I conveys both the exhilaration of being in the company of a 'crazy' and the soul-emptying drain of the effort involved in living at such speeds.
I had to read the notes to know what ECT was, and that created a fairly major glitch in the flow for me. It's not quite as household as, say, LSD or PMT, and I'd look for another description/image, like maybe 'electrodes' - something that didn't make you ponder.
'poison pours forth' came across a little archaic in a poem which is otherwise very 'of the now' and straightforward. I don't think you need it.
Love it when a poem saves its title for the last line/word.
This one is very close to the bone for me right now and I feel well placed to say I think your tone and weight are just right. Good write. >W<
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Good points, W, you found the exact
...phrases I struggled with - i'll see what I can do. It is modern, not archaic, but i kept thinking about myself as something horrid, some animal spitting poison - snake sounded stupid, serpent even more archaic, there was just something around that phrase... a kind of biblical adam n eve thing.
re the ECT, good point again, I'll re-read it ina couple of days and see what I can do - you're a fab reader, thanks.
Best RA
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there is so much going on in my head after reading this poem. so much, that i cant harness anything specific to say to you beyond that it is a wonderful feeling to read a poem with such an impression on me that it takes away my ability to critique. brilliant.
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The line that separates madness from genius is very thin, you bring to mind people that I have known who are like sparks of light that burn intense then falter and burn out. Their brilliance is exhausting and painful to watch.
I loved this poem because it captured alot of themes and your note after was chilling.
I liked the form of the stanzas. I think that the language was easy to understand and carefully conveyed the emotion of loving someone who is both draining and captivating.
Loved it truly.
. Rewarded 8
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Thank you for your comments Adorasmum
... you have exactly the heart of it - the brilliance and the exhaustion,
draining and captivating. I am very glad it pleased you - look forward to catching up again soon. Best RA
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And most hospitals over here don't do that shit anymore, except in the rarest of cases, thank heaven and a better, higher consciousness.
Good one, river, billiant, I think, and full of anguish and what the poet had to go through, the personal degradation of being loved and loving a truly, un-Beat, un-hip, un-slanged, crazy-as-in-insane person - how it can bleed every ounce of care out of someone who tries every damn way to get the other person to heal, all in vain. After all of that he leaves the poet behind "to embrace instead the sun", dazed and selfishly gone.
I love the anger in this; the truthfulness of it. And that second stanza is one of the most powerfully ripping pieces of poetry I've seen on the site. No trivilities in your work, alex - you take on the most merciless of themes, personalize them, and make them hit hard. GOOD stuff.
Lad. Rewarded 8
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I love it that you saw this straight away
...and particularly that you liked it. Your encouragement is one of the engines of this site, and your comments, spot on. Yeah, I tried, but I fear it was my own brand of craziness that kept me in there...yet maybe on a good day it was also love. At some point I will have grace, I hope. xRA -
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If grace is in the grace-ful, then thou art that. Lad
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Thanks, Lad
... if you can see it, maybe there's hope for us all.
xa
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