Urban Wildflower

Introduction: Today we were allowed to go sit in the hospital gardens during leisure group to do what we liked so I decided to write a poem, and this is the result. I would like to point out although there is much prison imagery in this poem, it's my anorexia I feel imprisoned by (going overboard on cheesiness here) not this hospital as actually I feel very safe in this hospital and have only good things to say about it. In fact, they basically push me out the door to make me go on leave but that's another story... Themes in this poem include loneliness, feeling trapped by this illness and imagining a brighter future than you realistically think you'll find and resultantly being disappointed. Comments pleeeeease, feedback is always helpful, good or bad (although if it's bad please try to be constructive, cheers) :)


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Oh, almost forgot, a special thanks goes out to a fellow patient of mine who came up with the title!


URBAN WILDFLOWER

In the lavendar I lay, lethargic, wearing out the day.
A flash of Eden deep in Alcatraz, is there another way
To possess the worldly fortitude to rip my wrists from shackles?
The shadow on my back is blacker, it grimaces, it cackles.


This shadow's from a full-fleshed oak, it's leafy arms outstretched,
Opposite it's naked other, it's bark all mottled, flecked.
The sombre tree relates to me, isolated, bare,
it's branches spread in welcome; No one hugs it, no one cares.


Ice-white turrets loom, their windows barred, steel birthmarks on a face.
A woman paces woefully, face veiled in spider's lace.
No. It's just a fellow inmate, her funeral I foresee.
If she's too late, the hand of hate will snatch her, maybe me...?


A stone-strewn trail swoops lazily across Miss Nature's blades
At which I pick, my fingers prick, the bloodstains never fade.
One path leads to nothingness, one back to the towers.
Forks in roads remind me of the pain that seized my power.


I've now returned to the ashen, burned confines of winter's palace.
The shadow's whip, strikes as I sip from Satan's silver challis
And bite away, the duskless days, I'm chewing my own flesh.
I can't escape, barbed wire snags me, caught in metal mesh.


I now reside, my heart astray, in the depths of my dear cell.
Albeit the cuffs are cold, so tough, I'm a pearl, this is my shell.
Our island's carved from ivory, the river rushes by.
I crouch in my own crevice, staring blankly, wondering "...why?"


Although it's come to time of day when I trip into a slumber,
where anxieties, my sack of books, renders me encumbered.
Like water circling daytime's drain, I cartwheel into sleep -
Same snow-walled kingdom, office-throned, but all's not what it seems.


Those daffodils with buttered crowns aim skyward in a greeting.
The jade-green grounds are similar but mind clouded, thoughts a-fleeting -
something's amiss, too much bliss pervades the sun-swept garden.
The bench where I sit is splintered no more, my soul is battle-hardened.


I've shed my orange jumpsuit, the sun's ribbons of gold
Furl floorwards, I feel freer, not even on parole.
My pockets sag, is it my worries, a phantom haunting me?
My palm withdraws: a feeble hope embodied in a key.


A box within a box within a box within a box.
My future lies embedded deep in bedrock, now unlocked.
The daughter of a smile sits aside me, daisy-eared
As I bask in balmy present, do I remember what I feared?


But the final act has come to close, red curtains form a downpour.
The masks peel off, we're actors, please let there be an encore.
I surface to reality from the whirlpool of a dream,
Tornadoed in my shrapnel sheets, I emit a shell-shocked scream.

As it's late I'll do 'Notes' on Urban Wildflower with my next poem if that's okay... I mean, it's not like I have any readers anyway!

Thanks for reading x