COMPLEX-PARTIAL SEIZURE EIGHT

(HOW CAROLINE* DESCRIBED IT TO ME)

“First and foremost you were speaking animatedly,

coherently, charmingly....about something that interested you.

Stopped mid-sentence, leaned back with fixed

and staring eyes....there was no expression on your face....

all-seeing, yet not seeing....this lasted about thirty seconds.

Resumed talking....about something I cannot recall....rambling....

disjointed....not linked with the previous conversation....

you leaned forward towards me, looking half at me.

Your mouth was working strangely, especially the left side.

Haltingly, yet somehow in a bludgeoning fashion,

you said the word “kisses” six or seven times.

All this took about one minute, and was not interactive.

Back to your charming self, you recited a poem to me....

it had in it the word “kisses”....I think you had been visiting

this line earlier.... then you were back to where you were before.

You resumed conversation at an entirely different place....

not related to the first bit....were pale and distracted....

definitely post-ictal for between five to ten minutes.

We walked from the cafe to where my husband waited

in the car....is that helpful? Must meet again some time.”

*@CroPage on Twitter

It is very important to tell the person who has the seizure exactly what happened, so they can keep their GP and neurologist up-to-date with the condition.
Thank you Caroline x I showed the printout of your notes to my neurologist.

COMPLEX-PARTIAL SEIZURE NINE

Maria sits, listening to my repeated effing.

I have no sense of touch, but inquisitiveness,

and cognisance of space so small it surely

could not be limited by measurement.

Everything is made of odourless smoke.

I turn to watch my right shoulder detach,

vapourise, then morph back into its place.

Perspective explains: an elbow bend reforming

into what it was before experiential foolery.

Abdomen tricks the eyes until they try to track

a movement highlighted by cigarette blue

and shaded by hooker’s green. Entrance to cave,

curling inside out; no beginning or end; only middle.

These are the circumstances as I pace this prison,

constantly checking the time because I immediately

forget. Working hard until Maria leaves.

Then a door frame keeps me from falling as I hunch

to weep because I am desperate with confusion.

THINK OF A TITLE.

The dandelion is rooted between two kerbstones,
close to the swerve of tyres, the scrape of shoes.

Rising achenes traverse cols of purple shadow, before
accidentally colonising the first chimney to snag them.

Forty feet below, the progenitor has suddenly
been reduced to a smear of latex and chlorophyll.

At exactly the same moment flashes of sunshine reflected
off passing motor vehicles trigger a young man's seizure.

Unconscious he wanders into the path of a Jeep Compass,
where he dies. Fewer than 5% of epileptics are photosensitive.

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE TOWARDS

NORMALITY

I remedied the problems of being an eccentric

child by practising until perfect the knack

of acquiring a high-status layer of filth.

The best place to do this was at the brook

near the Methodist cricket pitch. From the boundary

there sloped the Rocky Mountains, the Alps,

and the Himalayas down to our sometime dam,

which we busted every time it was rebuilt.

This slope had no grass on it. There, after rain

an expert could slide upon backside until clay became

his second skin. The water below easily impregnated

any shoe and when dammed would wash over the top

of wellies, leaving small worms and a smell

which not only mothers could detect. Perfect.

READ ABOUT A DIFFERENT

COMPLEX-PARTIAL SEIZURE

FOR EACH DAY OF THE WEEK:

Go to Friday, 18 Jan 2013.

there you’ll find Monday’s surprise.

That will do for a start...........

SCULPTOR’S STATEMENT

doodles

whittlings by a campfire

bits and shavings and splinters

scratching sounds, tappings

enquiries by children

tactilicities and aromas

voyages in vision

meanderings of light

teasings, selfish satisfactions

insides manifested

caresses with intent

playfulness

no more

no less

CHILL WIND FACTORS

It overtakes me at speed, and goes trilby-ing

through a coach party of L.S.Lowry look-alikes.

I’d left home early, feeling warm. Now the chasing

air drills through the back of the woollen sweater

bought in preference to a windproof synthetic fleece.

Tears and snot fly when I return into the easterly.

Next time I’ll rise at midday to shower and brunch,

wear a coat and get a taxi to take me home.