Tree of Hope

6 years ago  I  visited a friend in  a psychiatric unit :  One  wall  was  decorated  with  the  Tree of Hope  logo. This  is  what I  saw  and  felt.

Hope?

Tree of hope
Is this a joke
Lost souls wandering
Bored staff pondering.

Angry women strutting
Locked door are shutting
Tempers are  fraying.
Any point in praying?

One  step forward three back .

Covers for  the care  they lack.

Man shouting  he needs  his phone

His  eyes  ask will he find his way home

Tree of hope
Is this a joke
Lost souls wandering
Bored staff pondering.

*******

I wander if that unit has improved in six years. I doubt it … Especially not now with Covid.

Hopelessness

image  from here 

Hopelessness Acrostic.

Hope left with not even a goodbye

Off  it  went  regardless of my  cry

Paralyised with fear unable to fly.

Ever ready  to  surround  me

Loneliness  grabbed me so I could not  flee

Eager  to entrap me in it’s hold

Sinister  horror  surrounds  me whole

Slipping ever  further  from reality

Never knowing  if  ever again I will be free

Endless  questions  beset  my mind

Smothering me with hopelessness unkind

Sinking  deep into  the abyss, lost alone death  would be bliss.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 36: (GIFT) in the B rhyme line.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image
Ronovan said : You may, if you wish, make some kind of link between the Haiku Challenge prompt of (MAD and Sane) which and this Décima Challenge of GIFT in the B rhyme lineThis means you could write a haiku post using the prompt words. Then do a Décima post using this week’s prompt uniting the two with a common message.
The 2 CHALLENGES are SEPARATE but CAN BE combined if YOU CHOOSE to do so. I chose to do so. Here is the link to my Haiku.

The gift of madness.

Image from Pixabay.

Corridors full of empty souls
Dancing but their spirits won’t lift.
Sanity is not ours to gift
Lost forever all youthful goals
Here hope is gone it downhill rolls.
Screaming inside, making no sound
Dancing in circles round and round.
Foresake all hope of leaving here.
Keeping guard, surrounded by fear.
We’re all lost never to be found.

**********

This is my entry for Ronovanwrite’s Décima Challenge.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 32: (SLEEP) in the B rhyme line.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Welcome to the Décima Poetry Challenge. Each week we’ll be attempting a Décima, also known as an Espinela, poem.

If you don’t know how to write a Décima, click HERE to go to a post on How to Write an Espinela or Décima Poem.

You may, if you wish, make some kind of link between the Haiku Challenge prompt .Ebb and Flow and Sleep.

The two challenges are separate but can be combined if we choose to do so.

Tides of Madness

The tides of madness ebb and flow
Restlessness only calmed by sleep.
The waking hours make me weep.
Dark seasons like days of shadow.
Seeds of darkling around me grow.
Fears inside me grow and recede.
Monsters use my terror as feed.
Madness has me held as captive.
Rise and fall, trapped, no more to give.
Madness eats my soul and I bleed

The above painting is work of Dorothea Tanning it is called The Madness of Doors.

One Liner Wednesday: 16 /9/20.

© willowdot21

I cut and coloured my hair today, does that mean, I have joined the lunatic fringe.

This is part of LindaGHill’s One-Liner Wednesday

The Madness of doors.

The talent Geoff LePard posted about an exhibition he visited at Tate Modern. The exhibition was of the work of Dorothea Tanning. I was so taken by what Geoff had to say about his visit not only the artwork but also an over heard conversation in the cafe. You can read the post here. The Surreal in the Here and Now.

Below is one of Dorothea’s paintings it really took my eye and I had to write a mirror Etheree about it. This is just my interpretation, I am probably well off of the mark. I don’t care because it spoke to me. So thanks to Geoff we have.

The madness of doors.

Mad

You say

I am mad

This demon here

Knows better than that

I just gave birth to it

Don’t dare look at me like that

Mad, no I have opened the doors

Madness lies in closed doors, teathered souls

Clawing at the wood screaming to be free.

Don’t approach, this fruit of my womb may bite.

If you disturb it, it will take flight

Madness lies that way you must know

I’ll not take your food or drink

It will sully my milk

My child needs to feed

To sate it’s greed

I know I

Am not

Mad.

******

The painting is by Dorothea Tanning. It is called Birthday, 1942, Oil on canvas.

I wrote about a birth before I found out it was actually called Birthday.

Thursday photo prompt spectral #writephoto

This is my entry for Sue Vincent of Daily Echo #writephoto.

Rules and Pingback Here

There it stood, in the early morning mist. Nothing but a shell, no heart or soul left. The mist concealing the true horror of what was left. Even after all these years I could hear the crackle of fire and the screams of those trapped inside.

They had built the house here in the middle of nowhere to impress on those incarcerated in there, even if they got through the locks or the bars on the windows that there was no where to go.

I had been there ten years before James arrived . He was so beautiful, in soul and body. He was a nurse on my wing and I soon fell in love with him. He, to his credit, did take over a year to fall for me. Yet fall for me he did and we planned to leave the house and be together forever.

We bided our time, this was good because we needed to lay our plans well.

Finally the night we had decided upon to leave arrived. James finished his shift at 11pm and he came to my room where I was packed and waiting.

James had everything planned to a tee. We were to leave as the staff handover was taking place, he had already made his excuses to get away without attending the meeting.

All went well and he hid me under a blanket in the back of his car. We were three quarters of a mile away from the hospital when he spotted the fire. I begged him not to stop I begged him to drive on but he told me to stay hidden in the car and he left me.

He ran back to the hospital and I followed him. I never saw him again, he died along with everyone else that night. No one survived, no one escaped. It took the fire brigade an hour to arrive by that time the screams had stopped and only one wing of the building was left ruined but standing.

I come back here every year on this day, the day the fire happened. I only wish the fire had not spread so fast, that the fire had not killed the electricity that locked the building down…that they all had died.

As 11.15pm arrives I see them coming out of the ruins they all walk hand in hand past me. I reach out to touch James, as I do every year, but he doesn’t look at me. Over his shoulder he calls, “I forgive you.”

I know I set the fire too well.

Sunday Song Lyric:Madness

This week HelenVahdati has set us the prompt to find a song about madness. I have spent the last three months teetering on the edge of madness and depression.

So I gave it some deep thought and came up  the wonderful Alanis Morisette and her fabulous version of Crazy.

Rules and Pingback Here


Alanis Morisette Crazy

Lyrics from A to Z lyrics

“Crazy”


In a church by the face
He talks about the people going under
Only child knows…

A man decides after seventy years
That what he goes there for, is to unlock the door,
While those around him criticize and sleep…
And through a fractal on a breaking wall,
I see you my friend and touch your face again,
Miracles will happen as we dream

But we’re never gonna survive unless
We get a little crazy
No we’re never gonna survive unless
We are a little…

Crazy yellow people walking through my head.
One of them’s got a gun, shoot the other one.
And yet together they were friends at school
Ohh, get it, get it, get it, no no no!
If I were there when we first took the pill,
Then maybe, then maybe, then maybe, then maybe…
Miracles will happen as we speak.

[Chorus]

Crazy…
No no, we’ll never survive, unless we get a little…bit…

In a sky full of people, only some want to fly.
Isn’t that crazy?
In a world full of people, only some want to fly.
Isn’t that crazy?
Crazy…
In a heaven of people there’s only some want to fly.
Ain’t that crazy? Crazy, crazy… crazy…

[Chorus]

No no, we’ll never survive unless, we get a little bit…

Evil Stalks.

Image Found Here

Jessica

For  the longest  time  the child  had  gathered bones  and dead insects.

Body parts she  cut  from animals  so  she could learn  how  they  worked .

Not  dead  animals  the  organs  had  to  be alive  and pumping

Warm and  growing,  breathing , flowing.

It  had  started  with  a bone  collection  but  she had  needed  to have  more knowledge.

She  gathered  spiders  and  insects  from the hedge .

Soon  cats and  dogs went  missing , they’d disappear?

Her  mother shut  her eyes  to what  she guessed, keeping  silent her fear.

The  child  spent  less and  less  time  at home

She  preferred to be in the woods foraging  on her  own.

Then  the odd  baby   disappeared  from  it’s cot

The  need  for  learning   was  all that mattered  to  the swot.

One  day  she was gone,  she  did not  return home

The  child  had  decided  it  was time  to roam.

With  necklaces of  eyes  and  ears  and trinkets  made of  bone

She traveled  the word  her  skills to  practice  and hone.

Image Found Here

 Lock  your  windows , close  your  doors

She  is out  there  crossing  fields  and  moors

She is  bigger now  and  stronger

Only  harvests  what  she needs, keeps her donors  alive  longer

What  made  the child want  to  kill  this  way

The  thirst  for  knowledge  one  might  say.

Or  maybe  pure  evil invaded  her  whole

She  was  such a  beauty  in  body  but not in soul.

Beware  when out on  day or  night

Beware  those eyes  so angelic  a sight .

Run from the clink of bone and tooth

She  will not  spare  you  and  that is  the truth!

                  ☠️💀☠️💀☠️💀

Above is a little bedtime story I wrote in 2015. Hope you enjoy. 💜

Just Jot It January: Sane

THIS IS  PART  OF  LINDAGHILL’S  JUST JOT IT JANUARY

Today 10th  January  is  Sane. The  prompt  is  from  John W. Howell at Fiction Favorites

Pingback

Rules

 

 

 All depends on the  amount of pain

To decide if you are quite sane

Are  the  nightmares that  you hide

That which keeps  your eyes wide

Dark shadows creep near

Sanity or fear

Black dog here

I am

Sane

jjj-2016.jpg

 

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