MARCEL'S MADNESS.

A MAN AND HIS REALITY HIS MADNESS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you close your
Eyes the whole room
Is the world, sounds

 

Are the madness
Of voices, the
Whispers the ghosts

 

Of the dead and
Dying, and hey,
Marcel, they now

 

Whisper, Marcel
Come on, open
Your eyes, see us,

 

See the room, see
Us before you;
But you remain

 

There sitting with
Eyes closed, and the
Chill from the barred

 

Open window
Sends shivers down
Your cold naked

 

Flesh, and a loud
Cacophony
Of sounds coming

 

Far away from
The asylum’s
Madness and grounds.

Reviews

[just rose.]

This is moving because it depicts the moments inside oneself when it's hard to know where reality ends and indeed, what reality even IS. We've all had them, maybe some more than others; but this also invokes the sense in which the landscape beyond is also hostile, so if one were to try to hide within oneself with the voices, and then go beyond oneself the the asylum, one could never, ever really find a place of peace. A hospital where I once was had a banner saying "An oasis for healing the mind," but one wonders if the mind must be its own oasis. All of that is suggested here.