Ode to Freud

[deryk]

Ode to Freud

"SO you heard about that
coconut that crashed into Keith
Richard's skull?"

"Yes.
My Stones-loving mother was
sick to death from the news."

"What's she gonna do when--"

"DON'T!" her eyes flashed from her face.
And I knew that she knew that
she had slipped.

I was talking about Mick,
but it's remarkable how
our fears keep on flooding
right back to our fathers.

[osho]

Enigmatic! Flabbergasting! Fabulous. You said so much that goes unsaid and unarticulated through buckets of senselessly dull sentences. YOU have the gift of writing making perfect use of metaphors and images.

I find this a fountain of thought-provokes, the following specifically:

Some verity we dread to hit on-










"What's she gonna do when--"

"DON'T!" her eyes flashed from her face.
And I knew that she knew that
she had slipped.

I was talking about Mick,
but it's remarkable how
our fears keep on flooding
right back to our fathers.

[Delta40]

Great to hear from you again Deryk! I loved the double meaning in this - the unspoken fear.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I quite agree with Delta and love the quick dramatic brushstrokes in this.

[expressionism]

Our fathers can give us solace if they're getting wise despite life and the world and the human limitations.

[deryk]

Our fathers can give us solace if they're getting wise despite life and the world and the human limitations.
This girl's father is perhaps the wisest man I have encountered, and yet his advanced age hasn't afforded her any solace. Biological tolls are final, and admittedly, it is a touchy subject, but that's why I chose to expound upon it. It is unavoidably real.



I quite agree with Delta and love the quick dramatic brushstrokes in this.
Thank you, Prince. I think treating dialogue helps me capture the essence of what I'm after.


Great to hear from you again Deryk! I loved the double meaning in this - the unspoken fear.
Thanks Delta! It's great to post again. It was very tempting for me to just come out with it, "What's she gonna do when-- Mick Jagger dies/ your father dies(in her mind)". But I really felt compelled to stick to the titular psychology of the poem.


Enigmatic! Flabbergasting! Fabulous. You said so much that goes unsaid and unarticulated through buckets of senselessly dull sentences. YOU have the gift of writing making perfect use of metaphors and images.

I find this a fountain of thought-provokes, the following specifically:

Some verity we dread to hit on-
Thanks Osho! It really boiled down to having experienced this incredible Freudian slip in real life. It made me determined to pigeonhole such an overwhelming feeling into a burst of dialogue that solidified the Freudian concept.