eleventh night

his face
pale like the moon
on a cold silent night
or the red planet Mars
bled of all that is bright
a great sea of fog
washes over his brain
a thunderous storm
or some poisonous stain
like moon tides it rises 
from miles away
I pen in my journal 
that it’s on its way

he fixes his eyes
on some strange apparition
his auras must be 
like a sick premonition
my boy arcs like a dancer
frozen in space
I call out his name
cup my hands to his face
we beckon him back
from this night’s black abyss
put our lips to his neck
and give him a kiss

he is lost to this world
in some transient state
for this war on my boy
I feel nothing but hate
he stares like a doll
his eyes made of glass
for a moment we doubt
if the seizure will pass
as hot lightening bolts
run amok in his head
 I imagine my boy
looking so when he’s dead

as the minutes tick by
he remains in a daze
I sink like a rock
in a blackish malaise
again I call out
to my raggedy doll
and he tries to get up
from his nightmarish fall
his skin starts to flush
like a gossamer lace
now a thumb to his mouth
the moon in
his face

In honor of International Epilepsy Awareness Month please share this story.


  1. Oh Christy.... thank you for sharing. Brave Mom, brave boy....

  2. My word....did you write that, Christy? (PLEASE answer!) It rends my heart!

  3. dear carol, yes i wrote that. i write all the poems unless they have an attribution below them. ugh. xoxo

  4. I knew you would attribute others' poetry to them, but wanted to make sure your readers knew you wrote that poem. I suggest you put your name to each one you write, which will protect your rights specifically to the poems. this may sound picky, but some day I'm hoping you will write a book (which would be so effective!) and it is important that you be unencumbered with rights conflicts.

  5. Nice work. You keep it up.

    Go Calvin.

  6. You're phenomenal.

    This captures it, doesn't it? Inconceivable anguish.

    It's a terrifying reality too many parents and families are faced with.

    It's stunning. Gut-wrenching. You nailed it.

    Your grace, and talent and mother's love is overwhelming.

    My heart is out to you. You're incredible.

    Peace, and strength and petitions to the Powers at Be for some remedy for your son.

    You are champions.

    I love this and hate it so much all at once.

    I'll share it. We need to. Let's take up arms.