Strange Flowers

Abstract

This poem tells the story of a patient’s first psychotic break and the subsequent healing process, with special attention paid to the latter. In the majority of literature and art dealing with schizophrenia and other psychotic illnesses, the focus is often on the dramatic and florid symptoms that manifest during the initial psychotic crisis. While that angle is certainly fascinating, in this poem, I aimed to provide a new perspective, describing the period just after the dust has settled—the period of reorganization, rehabilitation, and convalescence.

Strange Flowers

Her brain is

scorched terrain.

Today rain will fall on the dust

and steam will rise from the

blackened slopes.

Spring 1976, Eau Claire, WI

Inpatient Unit B

Insistent light:

she pulls the covers over her face and

tells the men to please please please,

for the love of God,

leave.

She has suffered and survived

her first break.

Tectonic plates converged,

and suddenly her thoughts,

once nimble and purposeful,

were encased in ash.

Did the bodies casted in Pompeii

ever shake their natural shackles?

No says Alice, no no no.

Alice, the doctor is being

so very patient,

won’t you just answer his questions?

Won’t you just eat your toast?

Won’t you at least show us your face?

It’s a beautiful day.

The land is raw and singed,

but the high clouds have gathered again

and will soon open over the ridge.

Alice,

show us your face.

Today rivers of soot

will snake between the bare trees,

and in time,

lichen will form on the rocks,

strange flowers

will dot the scape.

Uncover your face, Alice.

Let the light fall upon the

mountainside,

give the blooms

a fighting chance.