I’ve got so many voices inside my head,
my Schizophrenia’s keeping them fed,
I’m starting to feel lost within myself,
think I’m turning into someone else.
I’m always planning my escape,
before my brain can escalate.
“I can’t find it,
......
THE INFINITY MIRROR
Read it as a poem where the mirror is personfied as the artist. So you have to decide for yourself who is she/he/it and what is my relationship to the mirror as an artist personified.
Also as a poem about schizophrenia where the voices are imagined as images or ideas reflected back, and language is also reflected back. Also a stream of consciousness poem.
The Infinity Mirror
Reminiscent of a dream:
......
“The clouds tell us stories,” Baba would say to him
As they sauntered through sunflowers fluttering in the wind
And he’d tilt his little head up and open his eyes wide
To the maestoso of the clouds, and the stories they held within
They spoke to him, and recited tales
Of dragons and giants and fairies and nymphs
Of Achilles and his gold and of Shiva and his bravery
And things were as smooth as the pallu of Ma’s new silk saree until
He started responding only to the misty blobs of ice up in the sky.
......
him [cold like the arctic wind]:
the frost I recall,
the slightest of shivers
the chill that brushed over my shoulders
I was longing to thaw, I was longing to shield
yet she burned, and she blazed
while I smouldered
—
......
THE INFINITY MIRROR
Read it as a poem where the mirror is personfied as the artist. So you have to decide for yourself who is she/he/it and what is my relationship to the mirror as an artist personified.
Also as a poem about schizophrenia where the voices are imagined as images or ideas reflected back, and language is also reflected back. Also a stream of consciousness poem.
The Infinity Mirror
Reminiscent of a dream:
......
“The clouds tell us stories,” Baba would say to him
As they sauntered through sunflowers fluttering in the wind
And he’d tilt his little head up and open his eyes wide
To the maestoso of the clouds, and the stories they held within
They spoke to him, and recited tales
Of dragons and giants and fairies and nymphs
Of Achilles and his gold and of Shiva and his bravery
And things were as smooth as the pallu of Ma’s new silk saree until
He started responding only to the misty blobs of ice up in the sky.
......
I’ve got so many voices inside my head,
my Schizophrenia’s keeping them fed,
I’m starting to feel lost within myself,
think I’m turning into someone else.
I’m always planning my escape,
before my brain can escalate.
“I can’t find it,
......
him [cold like the arctic wind]:
the frost I recall,
the slightest of shivers
the chill that brushed over my shoulders
I was longing to thaw, I was longing to shield
yet she burned, and she blazed
while I smouldered
—
......