Smoking with Vincent

October 26, 2017



I was eight
when I started sleepwalking
through life
though it was more 
a crossing over 
my body
my mind
would run wild circles
dreams
on display
for everyone to see

Doctor prescribed

the hot sweet cinnamon
a nightly shot
to calm
my mother's nerves 
and keep me still
under the sheets
spiders scampering 
on the ceiling
they would crawl down
and nest 
in my gaping mouth

When I woke next

I was 22
riding the green dragon
 tendrils of smoke wafting around my head
running wild circles
around the rubble
of what was
my world
now shaken
down
to the foundation

I found my soul

in a palette 
of Viridian
and raw umber light
my skin
a cremnitz white

I  stippled

brushed
and
knived
slices
through
torrent
thoughts
stirring
up
the urge to bang the bongo
and howl
at the harvest moon

I was 25

when they took me
down
the echoing 
lithium hallways

I slowed

and swelled
as the plaster of my life
dampened

my colors
now
cut and dried
flading
flaking

forgotten









Skull with Burning Cigarette - Vincent Van Gogh
Image Credit: Reddit Cinemagraphs


* Based loosenly on a work of fiction in progress - Van Gogh Latte.

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2 comments

  1. Wow. Your poem evoked a feeling of "dis-ease". It will also send me to the dictionary. Thank you. I love new words. xoA

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  2. I absolutely love the pacing of this poem - you carry the reader on a journey of beautiful colors and sounds. Cremnitz white. Echoing lithium hallways. Beautiful.

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