Familial Lunacy

‘We know their dream; enough To know they dreamed and are dead; ‘ —W.B. Yeats ‘

Familial Lunacy

their memories are like ashes
batty-brained ancestors, insane,
with progeny, who bear the stain
unwittingly, their singed remains
poison surging through red hot veins
manic peaks plunging in crashes

they can’t hide their damaged breeding
twisted helixes flexed in rage
bleeding ink blots on each page
pills and therapy can’t assuage
what is passed down from age to age
maddening, this inner seething

it is a wretched legacy
leering from mirrored reflections
souls trapped in predisposition
despite every well-intentioned
surrender to intervention
crazy is, as it does…crazy


Today’s quote is from ‘Easter, 1916’ for Jane Dougherty’s ‘A Month With Yeats’ – Day Twenty-Four. The painting above is entitled ‘All Is Vanity” by C. Allan Gilbert. (1892)

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