Poetique

hmmm, I like it. My thought on it all - ghosts are poetique, messages they "try" to impart are in fact, unfinished business.

This is interesting, a different take on ghosts...“The ORDINARY RESPONSE TO ATROCITIES is to banish them from consciousness. Certain violations of the social compact are too terrible to utter aloud: this is the meaning of the word unspeakable. Atrocities, however, refuse to be buried. Equally as powerful as the desire to deny atrocities is the conviction that denial does not work. Folk wisdom is filled with ghosts who refuse to rest in their graves until their stories are told. Murder will out. Remembering and telling the truth about terrible events are prerequisites both for the restoration of the social order and for the healing of individual victims.

The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma. People who have survived atrocities often tell their stories in a highly emotional, contradictory, and fragmented manner that undermines their credibility and thereby serves the twin imperatives of truth-telling and secrecy. When the truth is finally recognized, survivors can begin their recovery. But far too often secrecy prevails, and the story of the traumatic event surfaces not as a verbal narrative but as a symptom.

The psychological distress symptoms of traumatized people simultaneously call attention to the existence of an unspeakable secret and deflect attention from it. This is most apparent in the way traumatized people alternate between feeling numb and reliving the event. The dialectic of trauma gives rise to complicated, sometimes uncanny alterations of consciousness, which George Orwell, one of the committed truth-tellers of our century, called "doublethink," and which mental health professionals, searching for calm, precise language, call "dissociation." It results in protean, dramatic, and often bizarre symptoms of hysteria which Freud recognized a century ago as disguised communications about sexual abuse in childhood. . . .” Judith Lewis Herman, Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence - From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror

Poets are stories wanting a good exorcism. Poets, are mostly I think, and of course, it is just my humble opnion - through their poetique renditions, seeking self to be heard, by the herd - but usually the poems they write are for themselves to implicitly understand. We create our own ghosts through poems, which continually haunt - in one way or another. Regards, Blithe Spirit.

Thank you John Watt. Personally, it's my note from the "after life" to my two younger sisters, my daughter and my nieces and nephew... Life goes on. Danvers at Easter, 2022.

lol...thank you Chisturaj Alex. I'm sure a few other ghosts are finding that one hard to swallow - as I am terribly verbose. :)

Thank you. For my sins I have been cast in purgatory here and I shall, I fear, forever be bound to the slavery of writing for ghosts I shall only meet upon my death....or resurrection ;). There is no question of whether I will come back to haunt others, this is a given. But I would love a good sorting through the Akashic records, that would be a library full of telling reviews. Warmest regards Kauffman, Danvers, who is more than likely Rebecca's mother.

One of Hitchcock's early directorial successes (an adult book). You were quite the precocious young lady and from the way you describe your nanna she should have introduced you to Charles Dickens as well! Love.

It was the first adult book I read when I was 9.5yrs staying for the dreaded Christmas school break with my grandmother (my mother's mother), a year or so after my mother died. My two younger sisters and I used to dread going to Nanna's for holidays, as it was never a holiday, she was old school, made us work constantly, we were slaves to her command. Don't get me wrong she was very much loved, but it was a terrible curse to go there for the lengthy duration of 6 weeks school break, on one's own without the company of one's annoying younger sisters. Anyhoo to cut a long story short, she called a halt on the work for a day and handed me a book, which was quite surprising in itself, as one thought she never read at all. She thrust it into my small hands on conclusion of morning tea - her cullinary skills were much adored, the best cook - I digress - I read it in 1.5 days. I was mesmerised.

Later in my teenage years I watched the old black and white movie with my sisters and at conclusion we all discussed which character we would play if we were cast in the movie. My response was for the young unnamed protagonist - to which my sisters with great merriment suggested, "Oh no, no, no you would make an excellent Danvers". There words shall come back to haunt them. I read somewhere you like quick fixes...the latest in response to an ode I read in the great halls of terror here, front page of the book here. I will make an excellent ghost and I do intend to haunt many.

Merci bar coop Mme La France. I am befuddled most of the time, but sometimes in the haunting halls of hell one can deliver a slice of heaven, minute as it may be. :)

Thank you Madama Goldsmith. We are all books opened and unopened here, the walls summon other ghosts who congregate in their conferring vestibules, hiding weapons under their cassocks, the calibre of which shrinks or rises in proportion to their good will. One begins to enjoy the accolades of Purgatory. Warmest regards, Danvers. Xx

Thank you. Everyone needs a good haunting once in a while. If one can smile through the tears in the fabric of a poet's life, reaffirming the lunacy of it all, mission accomplished. Danvers in Oz somwhere, but it aint no Yellow Brick Road, and there are many horny backed toads. ;)

Thank you. I'd get on the Musk bus if I had a ticket, to escape Hell. I always had a soft spot for Danvers. Underneath lurked a good egg, albeit cracked.

Thank you. Amazing for this ghost to wake up to the prestige of POTD. :) x

I shall pass that onto Danvers. She will covet it like the villain she is. Xx

we are all stories...that is all we are, found in passing, and by others much later, if at all. Ghosts passing through walls, marking our stories. Stories numbered, days numbered.

regards, Danvers.

“I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.”

https://mlsh.ru/files/2016-05/69b5fe47cd357ef18ac9cb50e8c67409.pdf