If you are not familiar with Janet Frame or her work, I would encourage you to take the time to read some of her writing and, if you get a chance, to watch the film "An Angel at my Table". Janet Frame suffered a mental breakdown and spent several years in an asylum, during which time, she was subjected to treatments such as electric shock treatment. Her life is a fascinating and interesting one and her story got me thinking about the labels we put on ourselves and others.
The poem below is a work in progress and I would as always love to know your thoughts on the ideas, raised in the poem, or the film if you have seen it.
"Labels"
Why do we label people and box them away?
Is it to make life feel more simple and provide comfort in structure.
Do I want to be labelled? NO
How do people see me? Am I nice, naughty, warm, angry, bright, dull.
The list of descriptions is as infinite as the heavens.
My head is spinning with all the labels that could be pinned to my collar.
My collar would fill up like a boy scout collects badges for his lapel.
Am I weighed down by the labels on my collar? YES
I am more than the sum of their parts.
They are simply words given a meaning. That meaning does not define me.
I am indefinable, indescribable, and my soul changes clothes at least once a century.
I don't get a choice in the clothes that it wears........that is the lottery of existence.
Why people spend time analysing, defining and ticking boxes is something I can't comprehend.
All that amounts to is wasted energy and hours that can never be returned.
Labels are like musty old jars on a shelf. They fill up a space but take them away and what is left - NOTHING
A void that can't be filled or a space full of infinite possibilities?
Carol O'Donovan
15th September 2013
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