I have Bipolar
I HAVE BIPOLAR
By Teak Kilmer
I have bipolar. You’ll find me in the
Lost and Profound Department,
where it never pains but it roars,
but…where fodder for my poems is stored -
genetic twins by mutual consent,
my cross, my glory,
by purge, enlightenment.
Since pre-birth I now do ascertain
I have been chained to wax and wane…
as by hell as well as heaven sent
though less merriment than malcontent;
Grief and rage, fear and shame I have explored
as the Maloneys and the Kilmers so forbore
but also by chastisement I believed my self incompetent
and became also a raging dissident
My mother in despair’s moraine
imprisoned by the State in shame –
locked in by doors and bars and argument:
“too belligerent and not sufficient penitent,”
as again in seeking schizophrenia’s medications more
too far she went to opposing zombie state at home restore
My father (when I eighteen) at fifty-seven (and bankrupt)
went
and for me alone had no pre death comment
so as before we did not ‘untwixt’ the twain
though neither of us did of these abstain:
taking work and alcohol to great assent;
gambling, passion, risk we did over represent;
and I, as he, business owner – salesman – vendor
Though long and loud against these I foreswore
over 200 jobs, 5 universities I’ve spent
with no profession nor degree in embodiment
as by rapidly recycling misery I could not contain
so any goals I had I had in vain
To first wife and son Dave, I could give no nutriment
Failed parenting by twice – in seed and temperament
so yet another space in which I am heartsore –
not having seen my son in over one full score
Dave, I am coming (with your consent);
Please put aside those childhood events
It was not I but that drunk, insane
which has till now our bonding slain
My present (and eternal) wife has been to me a sacrament
surely saving me from self-ravishment;
but not until my birthdate’s 60th encore
has my true aliment been revealed to me as not before
Now by fitting drug and more so therapy and nutriment
by exercise and calm, by nature’s scents
by writing and partaking of the wonderment
I am now in reach of my goal … myself to attain
and so perhaps with David I will yet be again
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In August my wife JoAnne said during an energy healing she was doing on me, “Teak, it is time to contact your son.” I replied that I would as soon as we would return from our trip to Chicago. On that same day, my son’s wife penned and sent a letter to me to reconnect with my son, David. The letter was waiting for us on our return. I read the poem to him (an honors Ph.D. candidate in English) on the occasion of our first meeting in nearly 25 years.
This was written in two days in April of 2001 when at my
parents’-in-law and in the car as my wife drove the three hours back home. There
are 24 line endings in ‘-ent’, 12 with ‘-ore’ and 12 with ‘-ain’ ─ all without a
rhyming dictionary to employ, and with no duplications of words.
By Teak Kilmer
Lost and Profound Department,
where it never pains but it roars,
but…where fodder for my poems is stored -
genetic twins by mutual consent,
my cross, my glory,
by purge, enlightenment.
I have been chained to wax and wane…
as by hell as well as heaven sent
though less merriment than malcontent;
Grief and rage, fear and shame I have explored
as the Maloneys and the Kilmers so forbore
but also by chastisement I believed my self incompetent
and became also a raging dissident
imprisoned by the State in shame –
locked in by doors and bars and argument:
“too belligerent and not sufficient penitent,”
as again in seeking schizophrenia’s medications more
too far she went to opposing zombie state at home restore
and for me alone had no pre death comment
so as before we did not ‘untwixt’ the twain
though neither of us did of these abstain:
taking work and alcohol to great assent;
gambling, passion, risk we did over represent;
and I, as he, business owner – salesman – vendor
Though long and loud against these I foreswore
over 200 jobs, 5 universities I’ve spent
with no profession nor degree in embodiment
as by rapidly recycling misery I could not contain
so any goals I had I had in vain
Failed parenting by twice – in seed and temperament
so yet another space in which I am heartsore –
not having seen my son in over one full score
Dave, I am coming (with your consent);
Please put aside those childhood events
It was not I but that drunk, insane
which has till now our bonding slain
surely saving me from self-ravishment;
but not until my birthdate’s 60th encore
has my true aliment been revealed to me as not before
Now by fitting drug and more so therapy and nutriment
by exercise and calm, by nature’s scents
by writing and partaking of the wonderment
I am now in reach of my goal … myself to attain
and so perhaps with David I will yet be again
In August my wife JoAnne said during an energy healing she was doing on me, “Teak, it is time to contact your son.” I replied that I would as soon as we would return from our trip to Chicago. On that same day, my son’s wife penned and sent a letter to me to reconnect with my son, David. The letter was waiting for us on our return. I read the poem to him (an honors Ph.D. candidate in English) on the occasion of our first meeting in nearly 25 years.
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