A Midsommer Nights Dreame | Annie Blake

‘If we shadows have offended … That you have but slumber’d here, While these visions did appear… Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue …’in A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare

/ i pulled into / for on hot summer nights / i thought everyone experienced hypnagogic hallucinations / warm sleep like soup around my eyes / how waves sweep away the tic toc current / and thick as smog / i wade my way through my house / its spine / wiped clean and white / rooms still dusty with yesterday’s dusk / when the sky’s suppression failed and all was low bellied / for estrogen levels can fall / fall and fall / the rain turned down / cogs stagnant / tears clogged where my cheeks are jammed with rouge /
/ o dawn like raindrops as i surface / it’s day / pitter-patter / how your infant arms hand me holy / my asymptote / my midsummer maypole / trajectory of polarized thinking / even though i will never reach the top of the ladder / wi-wanyang-wa-c’i-pi and ho-c’o-ka / for loving my children
is learning how to accept myself in secret / for the non-indigenous don’t understand
how the devil first chants when you’re very young / my obstetrician and our hippocratic oath /
my daughter didn’t realize she was born with a womb / our umbilical chord / golden and braided tones / thick and cream /
/ but when my child hides under the bed / atrophied / with all her scared-strength / because i refuse to contain her fear / sometimes my mind feels like an overcrowded hospital or curriculum / she back-bucks the bed and my whole house is in ruins / because mothers who cannot contain their children’s souls have never learnt to build their own house /
/ my father / with me / how we decorated our utility pole with flowers / and the outside of our house / odin hung himself on yggdrasil / lemons at his feet / end of the hall / i opened a bird cage of canaries / i swallow and the color of summer /
/ i hand them down a golden cross like my parents hung around my neck / it was the day
of silver / moon day / manic monday / is the most active day for suicide ideation / his feet pinned in / nails the color of cherries / sometimes menstruation can look as black as sacrificial grapes
or currant wine / for our current mindset holds us fast / casts / his face when he waits for me
to pass through / waits and the longing swing of his clock / i keep reassuring him / it’s not about you / his stick arms out of his face like a child’s drawing /
/ she says / i’m hungry but i don’t want to eat tomato / because i don’t want to feel squashed / mrs. clennam’s house / how it falls / we think towers are rockets / the watch that dimes
and whines gold like the moon and my money in my hip pocket / how i pounded
through each interval / unpicked it like a uteral stitch / and how the fire flights the tower while
i watch far out to see /

 


Writer’s Commentary

This poem explores walking into the psyche as one does in a house. It plays around with the nonspatiotemporal aspects of the unconscious (psyche) and how it compares to consciousness. And how being overwhelmed by the unconscious can distort our conscious perceptions. The narrator is concerned with how her children have inherited her complexes. But also, realizes there is a golden shadow. And that the evolutionary trade-off is that they are very creative and passionate. The narrator discusses the difficulty of ‘waiting through’ for growth. Even though time and space can be constraints, they give structure and time to rebuild ourselves. But when we rush through our individuation, we miss what is right under our nose.


Annie Blake is an Australian writer and divergent thinker. She is a wife and mother of five children. She started school as an EAL student and was raised and, continues to live in a multicultural and industrial location in the West of Melbourne. Her research aims to exfoliate branches of psychoanalysis and metaphysics. She is currently focusing on in medias res and arthouse writing. She enjoys exploring symbology and the surreal and phantasmagorical nature of unconscious material. Her work is best understood when interpreting them like dreams. She is a member of the C G Jung Society of Melbourne. You can visit her on annieblakethegatherer.blogspot.com.au