Death Mania

[Ann Bingham]

Hot streams burn
Eyes sting salt.

They are staring at me
Baby blue, marked L406.

Tiny tablits glance before calling
A sip of soda for each
Goes down easily, don't you think?

They are waiting impatiently
25mg each. How many?
How long to wait?

Give me rest, give me peace
And they promise they will
Whim after whim, uncontrolled.

The tree outside
Not strong enough

The heart within
Not strong enough

Love surrounding
Even that
Not strong enough.

They are coming closer
They are controlling
They are calling.

Sylvia, are you here
Will you hold my hand?

Sylvia will you push me back
Please say you'll push me back.

Peaceful sleep rescues
Endless sleep releases
Sleeplessness haunts no more.

Numbers blank, are they the one
Soon I shall answer
Troubles walk out the door.

07-30-00

[Ann Bingham]

Shattered, All I See is Red


No reflection in thousands of pieces.
Carefully place feet torn to shreads
Blood oozes, tiny droplets stain
Winters white forced under cover
Soon it obliderates peach skin.

The stain, unwashed
Cracks
But won't fall away.
Fingers sting, nails sharp as steel
Infections set in
Sever it
Leave the infection to suffer
Alone

Black mirrow falls
shatters
Heels ache, gushing now
Peach turns crimson.

All I see is red.

Stained beyond repair
I lie in glass
I bleed
The walls are turning black
There's no turning back.

Oozings around the blades
Pierces deep within
Lasts and lasts.

I shatter
all
I
see
is
RED

07-24-00
verse, line revision 03-03-06

[mtmynd]

Well, Ann Bingham.. these two pieces are certainly filled with pain and crushing depression! As you intended, I am sure.

But the underlying question I have for you is "Are you okay?" now that you've released these emotion-ridden poems from your heart?

[stilltrucking]

I want to stab aphrodite
Athena keeps edging me on
What a market for a pot boiler
Every high school englesh class in the unided states must teach the bell jar
I can not think of one without the other
Ted And Sylvia
Agemenon and his old lady
a greek tragedy
and then Frieda Hughes lanments the sylvia plath suicide industry that has grown up around her mother.

Sylly Slyvia
Did she think she was perforoming one final act of Female Defiance.

My attachement came from The Carnegie Mellon. Met a pretty little coed at her 21st birth day party she called St Sylvia a proto feminist

[stilltrucking]

Cecil this is five years later



and I am thinking about thirty years ago when I got saved I don't know if that was about the time you wrote the above peace that you laid your head on your savior's breast. I got go back thirty years ago to find that pain ann.
it has been 32 years ann, I don't make a big deal out of it anymore, and I don't try to convert anyone. But I got to back off the christian thiis is the creative board. Got to see this as partly truth and fiction but about the best witnmess I can give Ann, but you know if six was nine

[Ann Bingham]

Today is a Good Day
07-24-00

Shattered
Is laid waste
Swept away
Gashes in soles
healed
Tiny pills tucked
Safely away, out of reach
Almost out of sight,
Not quite out of mind.
My head is clear again
As I smile at an enemy
Brightness enters in
Yes today is a good day.


First thought, God.
Last thought who'll take care of the kids?
They are my life jackets
I hold on tightly.

Not that I want to travel that road again anytime soon, but passion of any kind...

Something stupid this may sound and not make sense, 9 and 6 divisible by 3.

I've not heard of Ted.

MT I do not think it was the writing that healed. But getting the emotions in the open, got me though a lot, as well as faceless friends.

I look back at those months and am amazed that such came from my hand. I'm not glamorizing the thought, but the work that came from the thought. I will never be as good as others, I write more then I paint; somehow I always wined up narrating instead of painting.

As for the saviors breast, I was 14 when I was saved. Five years ago it was the first thing that saved me from myself; but alas I turned my back. Not because of the thought but because of what put the thought in motion. Last thought--kids Gods greatest gift. I may have turned my back, but he found the way in. Now I ramble.

[stilltrucking]

may have turned my back

Did I offend yyou when I say get theee behind me Jesus? You me.

I tell ya travelling is definetly in my agenda, stuck in molasses too broke to leave town, but next month or two going to make the 150 mile trip to the third coast. Take that walk on the beach with no rocks and no socks. Astral projection like I am already there.

[Ann Bingham]

Oh good grief, no not offended. Just explaining thoughts at that time.

[Ann Bingham]

My life is no where near the perfection I wish it was. My walk is not as close as it should be either. I have questions and doubts, and fear an eternity of damnation for such thoughts, but what if I am wrong in my believes... then what?

[Ann Bingham]

Where does one go to ramble at this sight.?

[stilltrucking]

Explaing thoughts,

I am not sure if words can heal

but I am pretty sure poetry can

I am sure poetry can

Ann Sexton got me through when The Preachers let me down.

I learned nothing from her death except that no matter who you are disciples are dangerous. She martyred on a psychiatrists couch, by a disciple of Freud I suppose,

train whistle blowing shaking my shack southern pacific wake up call beautiful day for motorcycle ride.

thanks for the poems.

[stilltrucking]

GO is good, free style word association spirit game, but GO is also means something to the zennists here too way over my head.

[ButtercupNutSwirlz]

You've been through the old grister Ann and come out whole on the other side. That's good. Ya gotta stay whole. Sometimes we get a little whittled down, we all do, but as they say, those clever theys, we, most of us, come up all the wiser for it...and more grateful for the good times, the good days.

Where to go to ramble, to let those random thoughts roll?
That would definitely be GO!
Go! girl!

You can actually ramble anywhere you want to it seems because who's gonna stop you really. They're pretty laidback here it appears. At least I yam.

I get the feeling though that this creative writing board is for polished works. Works considered complete and finished, combed and clean of all errors and ready for view. One should endeavor to correct all spelling errors and what not.

ps: I forgot to say that I like the first read very much. Sadly good stuff.

[stilltrucking]

get the feeling though that this creative writing board is for polished works. Works considered complete and finished, combed and clean of all errors and ready for view. One should endeavor to correct all spelling errors and what not.

You got that right; this is just an open text box lets see if I can keep it simple. Mnaz writes beautiful clean gems, I feel like I piss on them with my my sloppy writing. Another bad habit to break. I just love his stuff, hard to sit on my hadns when I see it. Hardly can wait for his return.

CMU campus (Carnegie Mellon unv. Pittsburgh pa)
GRACE PALEY"s son a student there, he showed me drawers full of manuscripts in his dorm room. And the mad girl said nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished manuscripts.

If I like what I am reading I will work around typos unless they start to annoy me.

Plenty of anal-retentive here. I like to talk sh*t once in a while. B

That was me trying to write slowly as the words piled up behind my typing fingers. Good to run it through word.
If you have read this please go to happymonkeyreaders.com for your banana-flavored pellet. Thank you for reading.