I can think of six
paroxysmical rages?
?just before breakfast
and I have more wroth
before I make scrambled eggs?
?when I awaken? …
and when I swing,? ?Oh
fractious day?! ?Callooh?! ?Callay?!
?SO?! ?JUST YOU WATCH OUT?!
A Jabberwocky?
?of intracranial hell:?
?those Euminides.
But,? ?now I’m calm,? ?with sighing? ?stillness.?
?Equilibrium attained -?
?tranquillity now? ?…
psychic doldrums with ?
?feelings atrabilious -?
?melancholia.
I WANT MY BREAKFAST?!
Why is it taking so long?
?and where are my eggs??
© David Totski, 2014
Photo by author.
Review
This is my life. Every. Damn. Day.
My bipolar disorder is a huge source of poetic inspiration, but I usually write about the havoc of the disease itself rather than the symptoms. This inspires.