Poems of (partial) recovery

Some of the newer poems I’ve been working on deal with the comparative improvement in my depression over the last few months (and the elimination of extra pharmaceutical problems). Here are two of those, the first from last fall, when I was just getting through the medication withdrawal and starting to reemerge. 

Recovery

I’m having feelings again. I can’t tell you

which. I’ve forgotten their names.

Like small mammals, they creep

through the brush, leery of giants’ feet.

The small mammals evolved into lions-and-tigers-and-bears-oh-my since then. The next poem is from a couple weeks ago; I wrote the first draft on the way to print a proof copy of a chapbook dealing with my stints (thus far) on a psychiatric ward. 

Sunday Stroll

If anyone were near enough on the Sunday-empty

campus, they’d hear in the shortness of my breath

not the labored pant but the heated gasp

of being a physical body among physical

bodies—tree and lamppost, concrete and sky—

’til inattention turns my steps to the main street

and quiets me. I let my hair fall before my face

’til I can reappear as social animal and conceal

the bliss of muscle pulling bone under skin.

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3 thoughts on “Poems of (partial) recovery”

  1. I can’t imagine a life where I didn’t know you. These are ripe on the vine. Keep livin’ and lovin’, kid.

  2. I love “Recovery”, and can especially relate to “small mammals” creeping through the brush. Very powerful! What healing power poetry has!

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