HIPPOCAMPUS after P.T.S.D

Say- ‘What is to miss?’
An angel in the stonewall-
Comes running through the darkness.

Those images- we have come to collect
live in the eastern part of the skull.

The inside of the heart; purple with piss and wax
concludes a tenth year of depression.

When knocking a door- knuckles rest on the wood
cushioned by the hairs and contoured verges.

The splintering cells wake
Rising as fern trees in a westerly breeze
Bending backward- pointing out
Shapes so limitless- fractals and feet
A remedy for a beautiful day.

Oh Keith if only I had a brain like yours...

I could wile away the hours
Conferrin' with the flowers
Consultin' with the rain
And my head I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain

That's a quote from the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz by the way

Hi Sophie

PTSD is an accroynm for

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

a condition brought about be serious trauma or stressfull event, symptoms can be varied from patient to patient but typically panic, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, a sense of unreality, discocciation etc

Hippocampus is a specific area of the brain (I think) its for memory.


Pete

PTSD also causes uncontrolable, spontaneous flashbacks -- the memory of the traumatic event overriding awareness of the present so that the sufferer is, in effect, reliving the horror.
I really like this poem, Keith: have you seen the Encyclopaedia Anatomica? The description of the heart brought this to mind. The wind (chaos?); the bracken (fractal precision); feet (free will?); and the heart (emotion, courage, truth -- but wax sided and running with effluent -- also yellow/piss-scared, so denatured?) -- glorious!

I sometimes get flashes of something that isn't quite there
A hint of a slightly out of phase happening
Zipping past
Too fast
To catch
A partial trip to somewhere else
a nano second of unreality
But the lights change
A horn hoots
Take me back
Take me back

Evening guys, been out tonight so just read your postings-

Yes, P.T.S.D as an ‘overflowing’ experience, one which can be fixed, or say moulded like wax, into an experience that is ‘fractal’ – uniformed, similar, even same.
I played around with the sonnet form; wanting the ‘uniform’ of the sonnet to suggest repetition, yet in the poem it’s sparse which suggests healing perhaps-, as with the residual memories of the sufferer/subject- a patient can get better.
It’s about healing, beauty is found in days without repetition- unnatural perhaps, denatured yes- like the scarecrow has a spotless mind.
Encyclopaedia Anatomica is now on my christmas list.