Abstract Art

My first published poem

Was written at a coloring table

During my stay in a psychiatric hospital

I've been alchemist since fifteen

Transmuting black and white

To an onslaught of glaring colors

Once upon multiple times

I lost hold of reality

Mania submerged

My consciousness

Sinking into

Navy toned

Watery depths

Of psychosis

Washed up on the shore

Of prisons

Muted gray locked wards

Formed my home

Bipolar is abstract art

My life has been composed

Of a journey on a tightrope

Balancing the placement of hues

On my sacred canvas

My medicine is blue and white

Shades reflecting the ocean and clouds

The precise point where I

Bask in tranquility

These are the primary tones

In my painting, the base that

Births the shapes I create

Utilizing pristine brushes

Tools cultivated over decades

The wall for my masterpiece

Is currently sturdy

Sheet rock is constructed, secured

On a stout foundation

My house is a technicolor dream

I control the brightness now

It no longer drowns me

I am not a prisoner of its light

My current magic has been

Morphing mental illness

Into a blessing

Sharing my story, advocating

Unlocking doors for others

The red stop sign of stigma

The marker of misunderstanding

Becomes undone for them

I preach on a light brown pulpit

Pointing to the picture I painted

Introduce it as a North Star

A luminous white beacon of hope

The realm of freedom is but

A voyage away

The first step

Is acceptance of

The chemical imbalance

Belief that our disjointed tints

Can be depicted as whole

Transform into a rainbow of color

We will graduate into lighthouses

Saving our own ships

From the deep

And there we find

Our pot of gold