My Therapist's Wall of Masks
by
James Shammas
(Age: 44)
copyright 08-30-2005
Age Rating: 10 to 127
I sit here under a wall of masks
In an otherwise unassuming room.
I eye them from an angle and never stare.
I think they make two horizontal rows,
Unless my eye orders them that way;
To counter their jarring contours,
The jagged lines of ill-defined faces,
Their pin-slit eyes and pointed ears
Reminding me of Cerberus on the Styx
Or Charon waiting on Archeron's shores.
Whether Native American, Eskimo,
African, Indian, Tao, or Tibetan,
I feel skinned under their tribal moans,
Primal and pre-verbal. My intellect
Molds them into Jungian archetypes
And assumes they're up there for a reason:
Maybe they speak through the therapist
Of the thunder and the seething sea,
The storms and winds within; for even the
Gentle dew on dancing daffodils seem to
Drop, rage, boil and roll-- get me
Bobbing on a splendid dung-heap, splashing
Down the river Ganges or the blessed Lourdes,
Till time is up and he sees I've made progress:
That I'm rising under the masks--
Rising--
Shaking the shame from a handshake,
Fluffing up a half-hug to one that's full,
Licking up a half-truth, dripping off a tear.
To my friend John, who taught me to see,
--- to be alive.
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Hmmm... I'm not sure how it was ORIGINALLY posted, but I had no problem understanding that it was someone in counseling, that he identified with the masks, and was a bit relieved at peeling his off, however little at a time. I feel that his feelings are a "jungle out there"... dangerous, treacherous, and to venture through them, to navigate through the maze, is just as trying as the river Styx, the river Ganges, and more. The treachery of truth a thunderstorm within that's brewing... skinned, naked, exposed, scary stuff indeed! And pre-verbal vs. preverbial... I almost laughed, and would have were the subject matter not so weighty and serious. I, too, have shaken the shame from a handshake, darting eyes, half-hugs after confession sessions of uno playing, emoitonally scarred by the crimes committed against a child who feels it's somehow her fault, not wanting to tell the truth, ashamed, hiding behind half truths... licking up a half-truth, dripping off a tear... facing the truth... facing my fear... sigh... finally knowing... rising under masks, my rising... acknowledging, it wasn't my fault, it was a crime. Sigh... (silent cry).... Will it never end? Won't it ever go away? (look away) Anyway... just wanted you to know...I understand some of this. Maybe more than most, maybe not. Hugs and thank you for sharing it.
Very nice...the comparisons and how you mention a few of the races was a nice touch. It gave a nice visual effect to this piece of work too. We all hide behind masks to please certain people and repel others. That and all the other tings and emotions that you mention in this poem are all human nature, and virtually unavoidable. This is a good piece, and I couldn't spot any grammar or spelling errors. Thanks for entering my contest! Good work, keep writing!
May the divine darkness be with you,
Leigh of the Commenting Crusaders
I have been in counseling all me life and I know that feeling that you describe so well, yes a little bit of the truth uncovered and then your time is up and you are left with those thoughts all week long until you go back again and wait to see what will happen today, anxious yet nervous but in the end a bit relieved. Great write, thank you
I just knew you were making some excellent connections with your imagery and metaphor, using the masks as a conduit. Now that you have clarified the where, who and especially the why, the masks are a perfect way to glimpse inside the writer's/patient's head and see firsthand the trepidation,insecurity and 'masked' fears he is there to learn how to cope with. With just a few changes you have brought into focus the quiet misery suffered by this patient who is almost overwhelmed by the complexities of his own nature.
Yes, I knew there was a lot I was not getting in this poem, thank you for giving me the key to understand what you had to say, it was most worthwhile...Jean
Thanks, all. It is actually about a patient sitting in his therapist's office, for his weekly pychotherapy session. On the wall, near where he sits, is a collection of tribal masks that remind the patient of his own internal psychological states, fears, and emotions-- what, in essense, he must confront during the session, and how he comes out of the session with at least a hug and some realization of a truth.
I hope the modifications make it a little clearer. My intention is really not to be intentionally obscure.
I think you are talking about a patient lying on an operating table, looking at all the masked doctors and nurses around him/her.
It is only because I know you are a doctor that I get this impression. If I didn't know your occupation, I'm afraid I would also be confused. However, I do like how this reads.
Now I can see what is there to be seen and there is a lot to be seen, here! I love the imagery of you in a heap of dung, down the River Lourdes or the Ganges, it is an outstanding picture. This is a trip down the corridors of the primeval and the unspoken, along with the Jungian Archetypes, those wonderful motifs that have been with us since creation. Thank you for clarifying the pictures. It was worth fighting for!
I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks like Jean does. We have spoken about this, haven't we, Jim? You are a master of the written word, but words alone don't tell the story. Comprehension is a great part of the poetry thing and If I don't understand something, I will less likely comprehend it. You have to open the door just a bit, so we can peer in and comprehend where you're coming from! Now, stop being so difficult, darn it!
Your use of words is interesting and unusual, the way they are put together seems to be very clever. But, James, I haven't any idea who or what you are talking about.. This poem seems to be for the few who can maybe understand the esoteric origins of your lines and ideas. If you are writing for the few, this is fine, but if you are writing for a majority of readers you need to give more of a clue to your content's meaning. Like I said, it reads wonderfully, but I am left puzzled and vaguely resentful...Jean
Welcome !
