Wet Season
Days shouldn’t be dark, bewildering senses
into endless, disturbed sleep.
Rain is droning a Bob Dylan number
on the corrugated iron roof, not one of his better songs,
going on and on and on,
stanza overload, eating away at my sanity.
Peripheral vision of my brain, still inundated with sleep
takes in the gloom and hypnotic monotony,
you are so tired, sleep, sleep,
you will keep sleeping.
It’s been raining for days now.
There’s no point rising, it won’t go away,
it’s hopeless, there’s no getting out.
I can feel my heart taking a dive,
weighing up another day of endless barrage.
I have reached saturation point
and my insides have started to decompose,
in concert with the forward marching mould and mildew.
I can’t stomach anything anymore.
It’s been raining for weeks now.
The stinking rottenness of it all has taken over,
invading new territory,
complete obliteration of nerves
that were already shot to pieces.
Fabric is beginning to decay
in the sodden, suffocating humidity.
Rank mud is infiltrating cracks in my foundations,
like a toxic secret which slowly corrupts.
Dread rises with the flood waters,
and is trapped with all the other mind junk.
It’s been raining for months now.
That is very grey and appropriately droney. It has a rhythm and sounds that accentuate the long slow slide into depression too. Perfectly made and very evocative. The sky is very blue and shiny today.
Thank you Paul. The sky is blue and shiny today – this is a recollection from a long time ago, though there is still a little mud to be found stuck to my meninges.
Hi Gabrielle!
I had to tell you how great this stanza was:
‘The rain is droning a Bob Dylan number
on the corrugated iron roof
not one of his better songs
it goes on and on and on
stanza overload
eating away at my sanity.’
I nearly laughed aloud when I read ‘not one of his better songs/it goes on and on’ – what an excellent description of rain when it’s not welcome, a song that just won’t finish!
Ashley
Laughing out loud is allowed – thanks for stopping by – anyone might think I don’t like the man, but you can see by my previous post that the opposite is in fact true.
Yes, absolutely, it doesn’t come across as though you dislike him – more of an honest (even affectionate) observation used to great effect I think
Love this Gabrielle… that Dylan reference is just superb. Rain like this is welcome in my world any day!
Glad you liked it Graham – always need some rain, just not floods of it – my chickens can’t swim very well.
“I can’t stomach anything anymore”
we all know this…it is a good phrase to say, saying it aloud, phrasing it help me to deal with it.
love your poem, I can smell the rain.
A little bit of rain smells heavenly, a lot smells horrible. Thanks Ben.
This is great, the tone really pushed a depression into me, love the Dylan reference, that it was one of his endless monotine pieces, I can feel the pain of being stuck in the house. Next time maybe flick the Dylan tape to ‘Rainy Day Women #39′.
Ha,ha,ha – where the hell did he get that title from (they were all stoned and drunk when they recorded it – he said he wouldn’t record it otherwise). Thanks Mark – I’m glad my poem had that effect on you – that was the intent. Maybe I should post a warning with it – do not read if feeling depressed.
CAUTION: High Psychological Content: Reading Gabrielle Bryden’s poetry may elicit unexpected emotions and uncover long repressed images, read at your own risk / pleasure.
You’re making me laugh again – can’t have that – thanks Mark!
Thanks for the rain. It made me feel for a moment that it was raining here. So dry – as a chip. You soaked my senses anyway. Ta.
We’ve got fires everywhere at the moment – Rocky, Bundy, Childers. They nearly closed the road to Bundy last week cause the fire was up against the road. Lucky it rained heavily here on the weekend.
Perfectly expressed, Gabrielle.
Ta Brad but I don’t believe in perfection – I strive for imperfection and that is what I look for in others (that’s given me an idea for a poem).
Oooh, Gabrielle — this gave me the shivers and evoked a great deal within me. Many feelings, among them appreciation that for me, a period of “rain”, much like you described, has hopefully (oh please) ended.
But as you say so well in your poem, “Some of it will stay for decades after the flood / retreats back behind the usually tough banks. / The dread rises with the flood waters.” We are never the same after such a deluge, particularly months of such a deluge. But oh, the appreciation when the rain finally stops, despite the dread that it could come back…
Thank you for your perceptive comments – I knew you would understand Thomma Lyn.
Gabrielle, you would have to post the warning for life generally regarding the dangers of depression and pleasure. The poem really catches it — I find recollections here too, like the others. Also, this sense that poetry creates something out of it, out of what would otherwise be only sadness. The poetry crystalizes it, and you can stand apart and look at it as a thing in the world. A crystal catches light.
Very telling your comment to Brad about striving for imperfection. My head is still full of my “art rant” in which I feared being mistaken for a curmudgeon (with a pun on mud in light of your poem). Yet all the fine honed skill maybe gets us imperfection, and that imperfection has a nub to it, like sand paper, like a file, with a texture that wakes us.
And we do want to wake! as your poem attests –ak
Thanks Aletha. I loved your ‘rant’ and couldn’t agree more. As usual I am referring to people when I talk about perfection (the perfectionist attitude which causes depression) and all people have imperfections and they are still wonderful and lovable.
I particularly like the comparison to Bob Dylan! Definitely an appropriate time to repost the poem!
Juliet
Crafty green Poet
Thanks Juliet
(I hope Bob doesn’t mind – haha – love you Bob).
You have such a way with words! And I love the progression of this. Very nicely done!
Thanks Storm Dweller
Love all the internal stuff here Gabrielle. The love and hate of it.
Thanks piedhillprawns
An amazing waterscape of inner and outer worlds, waking and dreaming. And goes toward a greater appreciation for the sunlight and the dry land.
Yes it does Aletha – thanks again
An excellent metaphor for a state I know well – It’s good to see you back – hope the light is getting brighter in your world, Gabe
Thanks bluebee – light is back on!