deepundergroundpoetry.com
Games of Chess
They don’t trust us with shoelaces here
They may be used to strangle ourselves
The sheets and blankets are so thin that
They tear if you should try to hang yourself
The mirror is polished metal
No glass shards to split your own throat
Hospital gowns and doped up patients
Hungry from weeks of hospital food and sleep deprived
Only the truly ignorant claim to understand themselves
Assignment today: Come up with
Five things you are thankful for
The lady next to me will
Not stop on about how
They took my babies!
Her husband, she just knows is dead.
They replaced him with a clone,
She won’t sleep with him
I don’t doubt that’s not why she’s here
My roommate is a returned war vet
He screams out profanities
At night as he dreams of repeatedly stabbing me
He screams out my name like
The Lord’s name in a desperate prayer.
He is a pile of rocks under the thin bed spread
Screaming damnation
Fuck the doctors and fuck my soul!
I can feel it filling the room
He’s near climax
When he wakes in sudden terror
And moves quickly to the shower
On quiet feet.
The games of chess I play here
Are the most sincere I’ll play anywhere
They may be used to strangle ourselves
The sheets and blankets are so thin that
They tear if you should try to hang yourself
The mirror is polished metal
No glass shards to split your own throat
Hospital gowns and doped up patients
Hungry from weeks of hospital food and sleep deprived
Only the truly ignorant claim to understand themselves
Assignment today: Come up with
Five things you are thankful for
The lady next to me will
Not stop on about how
They took my babies!
Her husband, she just knows is dead.
They replaced him with a clone,
She won’t sleep with him
I don’t doubt that’s not why she’s here
My roommate is a returned war vet
He screams out profanities
At night as he dreams of repeatedly stabbing me
He screams out my name like
The Lord’s name in a desperate prayer.
He is a pile of rocks under the thin bed spread
Screaming damnation
Fuck the doctors and fuck my soul!
I can feel it filling the room
He’s near climax
When he wakes in sudden terror
And moves quickly to the shower
On quiet feet.
The games of chess I play here
Are the most sincere I’ll play anywhere
Published 14th Jun 2012
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Anonymous
14th Jun 2012 4:42pm
Did you mean "slit [as opposed to split] your own throat" in verse one, or were you deliberately trying to subvert the phrase, if you know what I mean?
The last couplet is excellent, like a dark and bitter punchline. This poem reminds me, in both style and content, of works by confessional writers like Anne Sexton. The way you'll start lines at different distances from the ones before them recalls "You, Dr. Martin", the opening poem in Sexton's first book, To Bedlam and Part Way Back. It also echoes Allen Ginsberg's famous "Howl".
You paint the psychiatric hospital with a clear and efficent eye for detail. I like the woman who screams "they took my babies" and just knows her husband is dead. (Did she kill him? Who knows?)
Thanks for the read.
The last couplet is excellent, like a dark and bitter punchline. This poem reminds me, in both style and content, of works by confessional writers like Anne Sexton. The way you'll start lines at different distances from the ones before them recalls "You, Dr. Martin", the opening poem in Sexton's first book, To Bedlam and Part Way Back. It also echoes Allen Ginsberg's famous "Howl".
You paint the psychiatric hospital with a clear and efficent eye for detail. I like the woman who screams "they took my babies" and just knows her husband is dead. (Did she kill him? Who knows?)
Thanks for the read.
14th Jun 2012 5:09pm
I think that it originally was intentional (it was a while since I looked at this one). The more I think of it now, the more I question whether it wouldn't be better as "slit", although I can see my rational for split as it does seem to fit the poem structure, at least in the beginning. It will be worth thinking about more though!
Thank you as always for the careful read and insightful comments!
Thank you as always for the careful read and insightful comments!
Anonymous
14th Jun 2012 5:02pm
I agree with all that Jack wrote above regarding the poetic aspects of your work. Your picture of being in "Psychiatry", often now called "Behavioural Health Unit" is true and will resonate with many readers....
Good work
Welcome to DUP, New Member
Write on!
Peace
Kitty
Good work
Welcome to DUP, New Member
Write on!
Peace
Kitty
14th Jun 2012 5:11pm
Yes, wow that comment actually does spark quite a lot of reflections in just pointing out the differences /connotative/ in the language of the terms.
Thank you very much for the comment and read!
Thank you very much for the comment and read!
