Friday, 19 January 2018


 Thank you for your patience in waiting for this poem to unfold. I have been prompted to present it over three posts from the feedback I have received when I have read the entire poem.
Vainly I wanted the individual pieces of the poem to be considered for what they are.
This fifth [and final] part concerns the fallout from the event. Some people were, I have read, were committed for their own safety, having had some mental disturbance prompted by the effects of the solar flare.
I read of one young woman who had suffered some sort of breakdown and been committed to the local sanitarium. Apparently a young doctor had managed "to cure" her through conversation. I imagine some form of analysis before Freud.

Perceptive beyond the age in which he lived,
the doctor at the asylum simply talked with her,
and traced the misconceptions that had led to her commitment:
an overly religious childhood,
the phenomena occurring on a Sunday,
an obvious connection.

Her personal weight of guilt took longer to unravel,
but it was a common enough story:
the pressure of the over attentive lodger,
her chronic need to please,
a lonely Saturday before the phenomena.

He talked her back to a place in this world.
Phew! That's it. Hope it makes sense and that you enjoyed it.
Normal service will be resumed next post.
Until then here is the sublime Annabelle Chvostek. Annabelle how about a tour of England? Please?
Until next time.

No comments:

Post a Comment