Poetry

Epic and Autobiographical (A Versified Finale) An Autobiographical Narrative: 1980s 2

by Carl Halling
08/24/14
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A Perfectly Foolish Young Man I Wanted Part Two Book Five Epic and Autobiographical (A Versified Finale) An Autobiographical Narrative: 1980s 2

An Autobiographical Narrative: 1980s

1.

Thanks to the large quantity

Of notes I committed to paper

While at Leftfield College, London,

My beloved college can live again

Through sundry writings

Painstakingly forged out of them,

Such as the poetic pieces that follow,

Which is to say, Some Sad Dark Secret,

Sabrina's Solar Plexus,

She Dear One WhoFollowed Me,

And I Hate Those Long, Long Spaces.

And as in the case of all

My memoir-based writings,

The names of people and institutions

Have been changed

In the solemn name of privacy.

2.

Some Sad Dark Secret was inspired

By words once spoken to me

By a former tutor and mentor

Of mine at Leftfield in around 1982 or '83.

And which then ended up

As informal diary notes

On a piece of scrap paper,

Consisting of both

The words themselves,

And my own perhaps

Partly fantastical

Reflections on them.

Some quarter of a century later,

They were edited and versified,

And then the process was repeated

A half decade or so after that.

3.

I Hate Those Long, Long Spaces

Was recently conceived

From thoughts confided to a notebook

Sometime between 1981 and '83

While I was a student

At the University of London.

As I see it, they betoken

An undiagnosed depressive condition

Which ultimately led to my contracting

A serious drinking problem,

And ultimately some kind of crack-up,

From which I emerged while unscathed,

Another man entirely,

And while I'm still the victim

Of a depressive condition, it's not as it was,

Which is to say, one alleviated

By spells of great elation,

And yet fundamentally rooted in desperation.

Today, it's seen by its sufferer as long term

Yet temporal, to be dispelled,

Once he comes into a new glorious body,

Which is his hope and his prayer,

So all the sicknesses of the old,

Will be a thing of the past, never to return again.

Some Sad Dark Secret

"Temper your enthusiasm,"

She said,

"The extremes of your reactions;

You should have

A more conventional frame

On which to hang

Your unconventionality."

"Don't push people,"

She said,

"You make yourself vulnerable."

She told me not to rhapsodise,

That it would be difficult,

Impossible, perhaps,

For me to harness my dynamism.

The tone of my work,

She said,

Is often a little dubious.

She said

She thought

That there was something wrong.

That I'm hiding

Some sad

Dark secret from the world.

"Temper your enthusiasm,"

She said,

"The extremes of your reactions;

You should have

A more conventional frame

On which to hang

Your unconventionality."

Sabrina's Solar Plexus

"You were frightening, sinister,

You put everything into it

I took a step back

You get better every time

How good can you get?"

People are scared of fish eyes

They confuse, stun, fascinate

Coldly indifferent

Fish eyes

Sucked dry of life fish eyes...

Sabrina was unselfish,

Unselfconscious,

Devoted, unabashed,

Spontaneous,

A purring lioness:

"Yes," she said,

"I can imagine people

Wanting to possess you."

People are scared of fish eyes;

They confuse, stun, fascinate;

Coldly indifferent

Fish eyes;

Sucked dry of life fish eyes...

Sabrina said: "I'm sorry;

I'm just possessive

I'm frightened of my feelings

You'll miss me a little,

Won't you?

You should read Lenz.

I'm sure you'd

Identify

With the main character."

People are scared of fish eyes;

They confuse, stun, fascinate;

Coldly indifferent

Fish eyes;

Sucked dry of life fish eyes.

Have I written about the

Crack-up?

When I came home

Empty-handed

And I just couldn't

Articulate

For latent tears.

But am I so repelled

By intimacy?

When will someone

Get me there (the solar

Plexus) as Sabrina said.

People are scared of fish eyes;

They confuse, stun, fascinate;

Coldly indifferent

Fish eyes;

Sucked dry of life fish eyes.

She Dear One Who Followed Me

It was she, bless her,

who followed me...

she'd been crying...

she's too good for me,

that's for sure...

"Your friends

are too good to you...

it makes me sick

to see them...

you don't really give...

you indulge in conversation,

but your mind

is always elsewhere,

ticking over.

You could hurt me,

you know...

You are a Don Juan,

so much.

Like him, you have

no desires...

I think you have

deep fears...

There's something so...so...

in your look.

It's not that

you're empty...

but that there is

an omnipresent sadness

about you, a fatality..."

I Hate Those Long Long Spaces

I hate those long, long spaces

Between meals and drinks

Specifically the afternoon

And after midnight.

I hate mornings too

Until I can smell the bacon

And coffee. I cheer up

Towards the end of the afternoon,

But my euphoria stops short

Of my final cup of tea.

I sink into another state of gloom

Until my second favourite time of the day.

My favourite is that of my

First drink and cigarette.

I hate those long, long spaces,

Specifically the afternoon and after midnight.