Wednesday, June 11, 2008

The Prison...

I have often blogged about my feeling trapped (here and here are a few). I think it may be a sensation I struggle with for the rest of my life, one I am learning to embrace and move within.

As I peruse some of my poetry over the years, I see this theme developing quite early in my teens. It seems my teens were the proverbial tipping point for me. I'll probably have to address that in a post at some point. A lot of stuff happened during that time of my life, culminating in the brain blip I've been speaking of lately.

A select bit of poetry from the Rubbermaid archives:

April 30, 1991 (age 16; 14 months before diagnosis)

Locked in a prison
Peering out through my clouded eyes
To see that I am on the wrong side of the bars
Not in a prison without
But in a prison within.

September 20, 1991

Peering out the window
From an upstairs classroom
I see children and clouds
And trees and cars,
I see life---waiting to be discovered
Yet it will have to wait
For I cannot break through
The bars that hold me back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And then, there is my growing contempt for the confines of the school system:

June 4, 1992 (age 17; 2 weeks before diagnosis)

Sitting in the classroom
Full of corpses,
Slumped over boxes of wood.
Wondering why I'm here
And why I am still alive
When everyone around me
Is dead.
Why must I suffer alone?

The teacher,
The only body full of life,
Would be better off
Joining his students
For he's boring us all
To death.

The institute of learning
Has become
The city morgue.
And as I reach down
To scratch my foot
I see a small tag
On my toe.

tall penguin (although she wasn't tall penguin at this point in her life...or was she?)

2 comments:

mike said...

Hmmm... I was never a writer, but I bet it would be interesting to talk to the early 1990's me. Not sure if I'd like that person or not!

Don't be too critical of this woman you're about to meet as you dig through that rubbermaid. I doubt it's the same person you see in the mirror now.

tall penguin said...

"Don't be too critical of this woman you're about to meet as you dig through that rubbermaid. I doubt it's the same person you see in the mirror now."

I'm finding she is actually, and so much more. And I really, really like her.