When Tess Kincaid provided us with this image of 'Sick Woman' by Jan Steen at The Mag two oddly dissimilar things came to mind. They are (and I'm not proud of this) as follows:
In the immortal words of Robert Palmer:
Doctor, Doctor gimme the news
I got a bad case of lovin’ you.
No pill is gonna cure my ill -
I got a bad case of lovin’ you. And the other was inspired by a quote from Edna St. Vincent Millay, which seems quite fitting as it is featured on the Willow Manor blog.
“You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.”
So with that in mind I came up with this:
The voices are so loud today;
why can’t you hear them too?
They set my skull to vibrating
and pierce my temples through.
Nonplussed, my pulse can scarce push past
the throng that crowds my heart.
The pills you push will not convince
these voices to depart.
Churning, yearning they all want
for me to give them voice,
Bring me my pen and paper, don’t
you see I have no choice?
