triggers an emotional chasm.
Neurological signals begin to seethe;
deadly as a Serpent's threat.
I feel my neck tighten and spasm.
I am unable to breathe.
I try to dampen my fears;
caught by my gills in a net.
My palms trickle with a cold sweat.
I feel myself drowning.
Tears on my lash.
focus my fight
against neurological slaughter.
In my mind's eye I seee Ash
entwined with Oak in inner sight.
A grove reflected in water.
Using this image of life,
and medication, I struggle;
trying to evade Death.
Finally, muscles release, reversing strife.
I defy Death's triumphant juggle
and take a breath.
(c) Heather Carol 2018.
Here is a poem with a comic tone which explores social perceptions of disability and sexuality. It was created for, and performed at Tammy Whynot's shows at the Welcome Trust, London, and Queen Mary University, London in 2015.
WHAT DO YOU SEE?
You've been staring for a while.
Do you see the wheelchair,
my twisted foot; or impish smile?v
I'm cheerful, and can be perky;
always dressing in rainbow fashions.
I'm also curvy,
despite disability benefit rations.
I love having fun on my divan,
despite disabling, disordered nerves.
I'm a hot, lipstick lesbian,
warmly attracted to feminine curves. Boy George might prefer a cup of tea,
but passion is still important to me.
(c) Heather Carol 2015
DIARY OF A DYSTONIA SPASM
Disordered nerve pulses dash,
like trains through a tunnelled maze.
Neurological wheels hurtle on damaged rails,
triggering tremors as signals clash.
Colliding like electrical sparks, shocks of pain impale.
Limbs jerk; ache and seize,
contorting like angles in a transport map.
Muscles constrict, clenching, as cramps increase.
Suddenly, clear signals start to commute. Limbs unfreeze.
Briefly, relief and suffering overlap.
Then mobility returns, restored, as tendons release.
(C) Heather Carol 2015.
like a moth near a flame;
my sense of self,
cowers within a frightened mind.
I fear your psychological game.
I am losing myself;
my confidence undermined.
Why should I trust you now?
Your moods sinuously twist and turn.
I see emotions in your eyes,
as menacing as a Cobra's dance.
venomous words burn,
belittle, and chastise.
I feel like prey in a trance.
I'm isolated from all I know,
and trapped by fearing flight.
Yet, I still want to believe you,
when you seem caring and contrite.
I have just felt my stomach churn.
The rasp of the key
signals your return.
Will I hurt again tonight?
(c) Heather Carol 2015
RODIN'S "THE KISS"
What do you see when you look at us?
Do you see our fire caught in the cold stone,
or the hewn marks of the sculptor's art?
I wonder if our story is known,
or if our tale has been lost in time.
Two lovers locked in a stone embrace;
art mirroring life; catching a moment.
Are we just a subject to discuss
or does our hunger quicken your heart?
As I look into my lover's face,
what do you see?
(c) Heather Carol 2012
Photos by Debbie Humphry and Yannick Yannof.
Artwork (c) Heather Carol.