31.1.22 Pseudo Analytical

31.1.22 Pseudo Analytical
Virginia Woolf B&W photo

Pseudo Analytical

I.
I know a woman with a dusty attic
of a mind. She picks apart her past.

It’s like she carries Freud’s couch
with her wherever she goes,

and she is best described as
that moment when dawn is lost.

When doors go shutting.
When pigeons bubble sounds.

And I am her bag of spare parts.


II.
I dream between 4 and 6am.
It is a madness, an undertow
of a threshing machine.

It separates me from the chaff,
and on wakefulness I am grist.

I am silver between the birches.

So I breathe in deeply, and hold it,
lean over, and pull on my socks.

This never used to be such an effort.
Last year this body was perfectly
serviceable, and my dreams myopic.


Image is Virginia Woolf by Lady Ottoline Morrell , c. 1917, from the Internet Archive. Inspired by Twiglet #263 “You’re Mad”. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter

15 responses to “31.1.22 Pseudo Analytical”

  1. Wow, Misky!!!!!! This is amazing. Full of superb, defining lines. I am envious. The word “grist” has been haunting me lately and I have been waiting for a poem to fit it in. But you have found it such a perfect home, I am like the human hanging over the day old chick’s knowing she wants a cuddle but that actually the hen knows best. Am i calling you a hen? No . LOL. But you have done an incredible job.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Pigeons bubble, silver between birches, there are so many good lines in this that I don’t know where to start. I will leave my good friend, Worms to speak for me. Suffice it to say, blooming brilliant! 👏

    Liked by 2 people

  3. BLAMMO good stuff, Misky. I esp relate to Stanza 2, being one of those always-wakes-up-around-4AM-for-no-good-reason-guys-who-goes-back-to-sleep-and-dreams-up-a-storm-so-he-has-something-to-write-when-he-wakes-up-at-6. SALUTE!!!

    Liked by 2 people

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