janet-What a wondrous writer! Thank you for the
introduction.       Carole


--- janet paterson <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> this is a repost
> of the best description of the experience of cd
> that i have ever found
>
> janet
>
>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
> Post: 029603
> Date: Sat, 23 Aug 1997
> From: janet paterson
> Subj: CD: A Poem by Jane Kenyon
>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
>
>           HAVING IT OUT WITH MELANCHOLY
>
>           If many remedies are prescribed for an illness,
>           you may be certain that the illness has no
> cure.
>
>                A.P. Chekhov
>                The Cherry Orchard
>
>
>           1 FROM THE NURSERY
>
>           When I was born, you waited
>           behind a pile of linen in the nursery,
>           and when we were alone, you lay down
>           on top of me, pressing
>           the bile of desolation into every pore.
>           And from that day on
>           everything under the sun and moon
>           made me sad=97even the yellow
>           wooden beads that slid and spun
>           along a spindle on my crib.
>
>           You taught me to exist without gratitude.
>           You ruined my manners toward God:
>           "We're here simply to wit for death;
>           the pleasures of earth are overrated."
>
>           I only appeared to belong to my mother,
>           to live among blocks and cotton undershirts
>           with snaps; among red tin lunch boxes
>           and report cards in ugly brown slipcases.
>           I was already yours=97the anti-urge,
>           the mutilator of souls.
>
>           2 BOTTLES
>
>           Elavil, Ludiomil, Doxepin,
>           Norpramin, Prozac, Lithium, Xanax,
>           Wellbutrin, Parnate, Nardil, Zoloft.
>           The coated ones smell sweet or have
>           no smell; the powdery ones smell
>           like the chemistry lab at school
>           that made me hold my breath.
>
>           3 SUGGESTION FROM A FRIEND
>
>           You wouldn't be so depressed
>           if you really believed in God.
>
>           4 OFTEN
>
>           Often I go to bed as soon after dinner
>           as seems adult
>           (I mean I try to wait for dark)
>           in order to push away
>           from the massive pain in sleep's
>           frail wicker coracle.
>
>           5 ONCE THERE WAS LIGHT
>
>           Once, in my early thirties, I saw
>           that I was a speck of light in the great
>           river of light that undulates through time.
>           I was floating with the whole
>           human family. We were all colors - those
>           who are living now, those who have died,
>           those who are not yet born. For a few
>           moments I floated, completely calm,
>           and I no longer hated having to exist.
>
>           Like a crow who smells hot blood
>           you came flying to pull me out
>           of the glowing stream.
>           "I'll hold you up. I never let my dear
>           ones drown!" After that, I wept for days.
>
>           6 IN AND OUT
>
>           The dog searches until he finds me
>           upstairs, lies down with a clatter
>           of elbows, puts his head on my foot.
>
>           Sometimes the sound of his breathing
>           saves my life - in and out, in
>           and out; a pause, a long sigh...
>
>           7 PARDON
>
>           A piece of burned meat
>           wears my clothes, speaks
>           in my voice, dispatches obligations
>           haltingly, or not at all.
>           It is tired of trying
>           to be stouthearted, tired
>           beyond measure.
>
>           We move on to the monoamine
>           oxidase inhibitors. Day and night
>           I feel as if I had drunk six cups
>           of coffee, but the pain stops
>           abruptly. With the wonder
>           and bitterness of someone pardoned
>           for a crime she did not commit
>           I come back to marriage and friends,
>           to pink-fringed hollyhocks; come back
>           to my desk, books, and chair.
>
>           8 CREDO
>
>           Pharmaceutical wonders are at work
>           but I believe only in this moment
>           of well-being. Unholy ghost,
>           you are certain to come again.
>
>           Coarse, mean, you'll put your feet
>           on the coffee table, lean back,
>           and turn me into someone who can't
>           take the trouble to speak; someone
>           who can't sleep, or who does nothing
>           but sleep; can't read, or call
>           for an appointment for help.
>
>           There is nothing I can do
>           against your coming.
>           When I am awake, I am still with thee.
>
>           9 WOOD THRUSH
>
>           High on Nardil and June light
>           I wake at four,
>           waiting greedily for the first
>           notes of the wood thrush. Easeful air
>           presses through the screen
>           with the wild, complex song
>           of the bird, and I am overcome
>           by ordinary contentment.
>           What hurt me so terribly
>           all my life until this moment?
>           How I love the small, swiftly
>           beating heart of the bird
>           singing in the great maples;
>           its bright, unequivocal eye.
>
>           Jane Kenyon
>
>
> Copyright 1996 by Jane Kenyon
> >From Otherwise: New & Selected Poems
> <http://www.graywolfpress.org/>
>
-------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> janet paterson
> 53 now / 41 dx / 37 onset
> 613 256 8340 / PO Box 171 Almonte Ontario K0A 1A0 Canada
> come visit my website "a new voice" at:
> http://www.geocities.com/janet313/


__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Send instant messages & get email alerts with Yahoo! Messenger.
http://im.yahoo.com/