Warning: this piece contains strong language
A sliver of glass
I leapt
from my Father’s
eye reflecting
a Mother that
didn’t exist.
Cigarette butts rose
to Heaven, thunder
formed my torso.
Dust blew through an
umbilicus and
collected to
form fingers
and lips.
Here is my birth:
In the ghettos of
Charleston my
Daddy beat off
and I coagulated
on the ceiling.
Now bound in
cords of placenta
endorphin seeps
through
my veins
and I breath.
Rob Goldstein – 1986-2019
Absolutely powerful Rob. ‘Nuff said. 🙂
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Beyond words… powerfully moving
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Thank you. You’ve made my day. 🙂
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Amazing writing and message Robert. 🙂
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Thank you. There are writers on WordPress that I see as a standard of quality. You’re one of them. 🙂
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Now you’ve made my day, thank you Robert. 😊
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Powerful words, Rob.
I love this image too. It’s one of your best. You might consider it for a (different) book cover. Hugs on the wing.
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Humm. The theme of the book I’m working on is in this image too. Now you’ve made me think.
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It captures the isolation, the parts of self, fragmentation, yet since they are all in bubbles the same way, it shows they are connected. There’s a lot going on, but not in an eye-boggling way. Plus the “content” would still be understood if part was covered by title text. It would be a great book cover.
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this is how I first saw the alternates, at the time I didn’t know what they were. I have several versions of this. When this crisis is over I’ll send a couple to you.
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Powerful imagery in your words, Rob. You’ve put great feeling into this piece. ❤
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Thank you, Colleen.
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Sad and powerful … definitely a piece of the heart….
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Thank you, Ivor. I’m glad you stopped by and left a comment.
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I love this one, Rob. It’s powerful and deeply sad. The artwork fits beautifully and I especially like Self Portrait-Number 9, is it acrylic?
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Thanks Danica.
I was once so violently dissociated that I was wrapped in sheets.
It was one of the best things that ever happened to me.
I think it provided me with wet sheets made me feel contained which is an important thing to someone who has never experienced being held as a soothing experience.
As the sheets warmed I regressed.
I wrote the first draft of that poem shortly after I was released.
It’s a shame that people no longer have access to Freudian based treatment facilities that favor direct
interventions over medication.
All treatment options must be available as a matter of course.
Psychiatry is the only field of medicine in which almost a century
of research and successful practice were completely discarded because
HMO’s don’t want to cover mental health care.
Prior to the wet sheets my life was constantly disrupted by a demanding and
dangerously suicidal alternate. After the Wet sheets the switches to this
alternate stopped and I gained more access to my intellect.
That 45 minutes alone and regressed did more to heal me than a lifetime on psychotropics.
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What an incredibly amazing experience! Thank you so much for sharing, Rob. I’m very happy that you were helped so much and that you were able to make great strides in healing.
You’re an articulate and passionate advocate. The world needs more people like you. 🙂
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When I see the ‘nothing’ that we call psychiatry today and compare it with the dedicated work that people did with me in the 1980’s my heart aches for those people whose suffering may never end because today psychiatry does what’s cheap instead of what’s right.
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I agree. Dark and twisty.
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and twiney…:)
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Yes.
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BTW…did you get my email?
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I went to check and got locked out of my email: http://wp.me/p47Ymh-5zO
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That one goes really deep, Robert. 💖
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