Wednesday, January 27, 2010


RWP#111...inspired by this photo...credited to Milad Gheisari


Don't be afraid of me

I just escaped from Essondale

some vortex beyond city limits

a mental hospital

where they think everyone

has mood disorders

where nobody understands sanity

giving brain creasing operations

when I only wanted a sex change

experiencing moments

of my mothers sexuality

dipping downwards

to the lady of death

with a scar on my head

from the lobotomy of menopause

I was a lonely transexual

standing on a bed of thorns

playing a persian piano and bamboo flute

whirling, singing and sufi dancing

a colorful pastiche of gypsy sounds

taking me to some heightened state

looking for the spiritual genius of Buddha

reading Rumi and slurping words

from my bowl of ambrosia

expressing lost thoughts while crying

for the love of a lost mother

inspired by conspiracy theories

and last years nightmare

of the blind locust with a carving knife

when they captured me

taking me to some sanctuary of deprivation

where the wind doesn't blow

amongst the conversations

about squash and onions with no memories

constantly agitiated

jumping, dancing doing push ups

tangled up in delirium

preaching cheap propaganda

I refused to become a slave

of conventional ways of thinking

where ideas get lost in the universe of senses

battered graves with blind vision

and muscular ghosts of sanity

hanging from the burning fire escapes

with lost souls on three legs

wobbly, squeaky not broken

I took my axe to the bughouse square

walking out without my insanity

or black dress

I quickly stood still

putting up my hood to hide my face

to escape the ravages of my mind

and the shivers of terror

looking for the road to Vlychos

to play my flute

or maybe a taste of Bombay

I started the journey

towards the spiritual light of Buddha

and your silence that's not broken

don't be afraid of me.


anthonynorth said...

Emotional yet forthright. We must go where we must go.

Derrick said...

Hi Wayne,

An amazing richness of imagery from this photograph! A tortured soul, seeking.

Anonymous said...

Wayne...damn man, did you go to Bombay or have some? There are many provoking lines in this little ditty. I particularly liked "muscular ghosts of sanity" and "blind locust with a carving knife." You left off poker and I forgot about sleep, amazing what they can do for you. I enjoyed this ride very much. Is there a sequel where the black dress is found?


Cynthia Short said...

I just love coming along on your journeys, Wayne...your mind is a very interesting place to visit!

Chef E said...

I like your imagery as well, especially this one...'from the lobotomy of menopause', it made me chuckle too...this line did...look forward to following more of your work. I am new to RWP...

Anonymous said...

So much here. I suspect that my favorite, beyond the persian piano and the knife-wielding locust, is the idea of walking out without *my* insanity. Thanks for this

Julie Jordan Scott said...

I think this chair could easily be a friend of mine. I think I will call it and see if it wants to meet me for coffee....

Well done, bravo, kudos, etc etc etc....

Nathan said...

I really like conversations / about squash and onions." Great exploration of character here, Wayne.

Wanda McCollar said...

"Slurping words from my bowl of ambrosia," sticks with me. Wonderful images here interlaced with Eastern symbols teasing philosophy. Giving up your poker game yielded rich rewards for you - and for us.

Anonymous said...

i love that you have imagined a back story for the character in this photo! great way to respond to the image!!!!

flaubert said...

Wayne, Wayne, Wayne! Wow I love it! Now I am thinking you might be as crazy as me, lol


Deb said...

Interesting character and the many sanctuaries he creates.

rallentanda said...

You were certainly taking some trip there Wayne.Amazing lines and a very good read!

Tumblewords: said...

It is best not to travel with one's own insanity, indeed, sometimes it's even better not to travel with one's own sanity. The journeys taken here are amazingly complex and surprisingly simple. Nice work.

Anonymous said...

Wild imaginative take with a transexual and particularly liked 'walking out without my insanity and black dress'. Thanks Wayne.

Anonymous said...

Wonderful technique to have the person be talking to the chair! And you played well off of the artist's alternate name "mood disorders", creating a poem about mood disorders. You took a daring path.

Raven's Wing Poetry said...

Wow. Brutally honest challenging. I like how you took the "mood disorder" from the artist's screen name and wove it into the poem. I also like how you play with both dark and light in this poem -- for example:

"experiencing moments
of my mothers sexuality
dipping downwards
to the lady of death
with a scar on my head
from the lobotomy of menopause"


"looking for the road to Vlychos
to play my flute
or maybe a taste of Bombay
I started the journey
towards the spiritual light of Buddha
and your silence that's not broken
don't be afraid of me"

If a poem affects me, affects me within, that's a good thing. And this piece definitely did. Well done.


TechnoBabe said...

This particular photo would be inspiration for all sorts of writing. No wonder you took the "trip" in this writing. I'm not afraid of you as long as you don't think the chair is talking back. Smile.

Jeeves said...

This is an amazn criss cross of journey! I was somehow reminded of the book One who flew over cuckoo's nest

Anonymous said...

There is not one line that I didn't absolutely love...such a fantastic journey!

Jill Zaheer said...

I always love to take the journey to read through your writings. I see the fluidity of our minds, how they can move from the titled "sane" to "insane" with the stroke of a pen, with a boxed prewritten order for what is life's "normality". So rich in thought!

Ji said...

vivid, touching, and beautiful,

thanks for the cool poem.

Anonymous said...

Brave words for a challenging world. Kudos.

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