Humpty Dumpty and Alice.
Illustration by John Tenniel.
Yes, they come
at night, those demented scenes of a life
lost amid
chance, wobbly paths, ruins, and self-deceit.
I twine together
the cartoons as best I can,
but the eye that
sees the universe seeing me
is not for me,
frail and broken thing I am.
Time embraces me
in its roots like a tortured
mother and
shrieks from her hole in the ground.
We dance by
campfire and paint our hunt for blood
on rock walls.
If only I could melt into the stone
and become one
with its moist, serene face.
Best to stand
with chattering tongues among the shades,
crying
helplessly for a prayer to cover my nakedness.
Shards of a lost
self seeking to put itself back
together again
night and day, Humpty-dumpty man
in a Halloween
mask, wake and smell the brew.
Time's short,
the cop with his ticket book can only warn
you away from
the inhuman altar. The road to paradise
is yours to
find. Nightmare's but the scent of joy.
Nightmares at
night are the least of it for me.
Who I can become is the real terror from which I must wake.
really gritty language through out charles which plays well on the tone of the piece...nightmares but the scent of joy is an intriguing line...and great wisdom too in the close as it is who we are becoming that matters for sure....
ReplyDeleteI was telling Brendan about a book I just read by a Jungian analyst on the male psyche. The author uses the tale of Percival to illustrate his points about finding the grail castle, mainly it is in the archetype of the fool that men gain the humility to find what they are seeking and know the truth of whom the grail cup serves. Fine work here, it traces the jagged edges of dream to provide cherished sagacity.
ReplyDeleteCharles...if I told you Humpty Dumpty was one of MY first remembered nightmare characters would you believe me? Lends an even darker feel to the piece for me...and I've a feeling I'll no doubt be seeking medication before I'm done with these writes! Awesome share!
ReplyDeleteCharles, the last two stanzas are stunning ones. "Nightmare's but the scent of joy" - whew. And the darkness of the last line "Who I can become is the real terror from which I must wake" takes my breath away. Isn't that the truth!
ReplyDeleteWow! I really enjoyed this-
ReplyDeleteShards of a lost self seeking to put itself back
together again night and day, Humpty-dumpty man
in a Halloween mask, wake and smell the brew.
Frightnight at its best.
ReplyDeleteI envy you the imaging you create.
It is full of delicious mini scenes.
Frail and broken....I enjoyed your take Charles...I specially like:
ReplyDeleteNightmares at night are the least of it for me.
Who I can become is the real terror from which I must wake.
Chaz- loved this....the image of the humpy dumpy man is defo one of nightmare- even though I really enjoy these old Victorian (I think?) images. I particularly enjoyed the metaphor in the story- the humpty dumpy man, eggshells, easy to break, delicate,- all things consistent with the human condition. You totally seal the deal with those last two lines? Great write yet again!
ReplyDeleteI love how the nightmare is real, and yet, you leave that little chink of hope for saving yourself in the last line. The journey of finding 'self' from the nightmare which is life.
ReplyDeleteFabulous read again!
So first the question is are we fit to even dream our nightmares, being so woefully equipped to be "the eye that sees the universe seeing me"? All of history's against us; our inadequate roots stretch back so deeply into Mother's dark mere (for nightmares are the stuff of Grendel's mam). We're just another Bozo on the bus to Hell when it comes to seeing in the dark, much less singing there: And, finally, which is the greater nightmare, the one we leave like seaweed on the pillow, or the awful history we too readily reawaken by blithely choosing to start off on the wrong foot and thus stumble back into the living darkmotherscream, yee haw. Very finely wrought and conceived poem, Chazz - I'll keep a votive lit for you if you'll reciprocate -- Brendan
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Charles. You are right. The awake part is the worst. It's like seeing one's whole life through before one dies and realizing, yes, that's what we are doing right now. Wonderful poem. k.
ReplyDeleteReading this Mr C, I just want to give you a hug..how terribly inappropriate of me..lots of great imagery here, & extra kudos for writing with such openness & vulnerability..impressive..K-a
ReplyDeleteThis is layered surgically, as Brendan says above, with progressions of observation sandwiched with the obvious and the invisible, the broken, the patched, the unfixable fix that nightmare denies and must be applied when we wake. And knowing that awake is where the worst there is lies, where a nightmare would be, in comparison, 'a scent of joy' or perhaps freedom from real pain, guilt, consequence, all disappeared when the eye opens, and Humpty is still on the wall after all. Anyway, forgive me if I've wandered away from the path and off into the weeds here--your poems always make me get all my burners firing,this one no exception, and sometimes they just keep burning after the poem is smoked. As you can tell, liked this much, impressed by your insight, always.
ReplyDeleteyour verbs are so rich. they make me lean toward the next sentence and what darkness within you are about to expose. i like the psychotic energy of this. the humpty image is creepsville too!
ReplyDeleteYeah, i get this poem. success can be a fear. I dig this.
ReplyDelete"Nightmare's but the scent of joy."
ReplyDeleteThat is an incredible line!
How fragile our hold on sanity can be, like eggshells underneath the footfall of something dark, something deep.
ReplyDeleteThis is intensely vivid, Charles with MANY different unique word choices and placement. Each line is it's own universe. Very well done!
ReplyDeleteBest to stand with chattering tongues among the shades,
ReplyDeletecrying helplessly for a prayer to cover my nakedness.
This couplet stands out for me, but the whole poem is a joy to read.
I loved this part:
ReplyDeleteShards of a lost self seeking to put itself back
together again night and day, Humpty-dumpty man
in a Halloween mask
To me it's just so descriptive of how we spend so much of our lives reconstructing ourselves for public consumption.
first...it made me smile that you went with alice as well...the place inspired us both i guess...and love how you weave this with such vulnerability and strength to a snapshot of this kind where we can see ourselves in those moments of raw honesty...love it charles...and love it even more after having met you...gives the whole write a face..thanks..
ReplyDeleteClaudia, Meeting you was amazing. I wish I'd had more time to be in the park with you and catch a NYourican night! Next time... I hope soon.
DeleteDown and dirty write, Charles. Excellent in its gritty, no-holds-barred determination. A great effort, my man. Awesome!
ReplyDeletenot only is it that the King's men can't put Humpty back together, but he can't put himself back together, and from a psychological POV, really, we are the only ones who can put ourselves back together
ReplyDeletesemantic feeling
About psychologists: depends on which school you're talking about. But that might be beside the point, since there are other ways of thinking about how to get your act together than the psychological understanding. I'm leaving open the possibility that even that might not be enough.
Delete