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Cabin Fever

I know what that means.
I've read the old pioneering stories,
seen inside Yukon cabins
and the wild minds they create
after a time - a long time.

This fever came quick,
not from loneliness, just the opposite,
from a convention of bugs
of mathematical proportions.

So now Iím laying here
staring out at the bunk room walls.
Darkened pine, old - very old.
built in the sixties I think.

He is lying in the bunk above.
I donít ask for help.
What if he doesnít know what to do?
And he wonít.
Itís better to have nothing.
Than nothing done.

See, How lucid and smart I am!
A wombat in the woodwork agrees,
nods at me and I respond
and then for a while we star
in our own Dances With - movie.

But Iím pretty sure allís
going well at this point,
must be, Iím not dead - yet.
The wombatís quiet thoí.

Everything is quiet now,
except my heart.
It seems to be having itís own party.
Punk - I think, is that a party?

Outside the snow is still
and I try to will it to lay over me.
Not strong enough - instead
it slips off the big tree - sshh!

That's when my eye catches an ibis,
Vernon Ward style
slipping down the wall
to sip from me.

I have nothing to quench an Ibis,
my fire has put it all out.
I must have bought this here
for I am punished in my own spectacular hell.

Itís minus five outside,
according to the door.
One from spontaneous combustion
in my bunk - then Iím out of bed
on my knees,
heave up
my hot

No one hears me.
Snores roar distantly in my ears.
Do I care?
Yes, I think I do - I want more than
the fox over there to know Iím dying tonight.

Still the knot hole, eyes of the fox look kind.
Itís the feather that worries me.
Malevolent really.
Magpie feather, black - like ink.

He moves in the bunk above.
I think of national geographic.
Boa-constrictors swallowing pigs,
funny really - not for the pig. Me.

Itís quite again,
a wife from another room
gets up to check her husband,
broken arm - banged up knee.

Is that real too, yes.
I remember the X-rays,
smoky proof of pain.
Why doesnít she count her steps?

She does different steps each trip.
Four times - I want to tell her.
Cry out ďBeware the stepsĒ
But my lips are seared and sealed.

I get up nine times, mildly surprised,
even my very blood should
be dried up by now.
But Iím smart - I count my steps.

Same steps each time, each time.
I know - I put my feet in the same
holes I burnt in the floor last time.
It pays to notice really.

Ahh! fire on ice,
did I melt the seat?
donít look just
lurch back
into the

Moonlight on the snow illuminates
three versions of the
silent scream. Funny, not there earlier.
Knot holes of silent anguish. Hah!

And now the snow loses itís night cloak
and the sun drapes salmon on the gums,
the menagerie slip away
and my mind slips back in
and only the silent knot holes
and the fox remain.
We make a pact, him and I.

To tell this night to no one.

Not the poem which we have read, but that to which we return, with the greatest pleasure, possesses the power and claims the name of essential poetry.

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The following comments are for "Cabin Fever"
by Huni

This one is the loveliest, abundant treat from you! I enjoyed reading it, this is already even a beautiful poetic short story. I love when you're writing something longer, you engage me and you satisfy my want for reading some more of you.

This is the part I love most:

Everything is quiet now,
except my heart.
It seems to be having itís own party.
Punk - I think, is that a party?

And the irony of your ending! I give you applause, like one does after a very good movie!

( Posted by: peterpaulino [Member] On: August 23, 2004 )

Huni, poetical moment
this felt so personal to read, the observations made felt uniquely yours and I felt like I was invading.

A great piece.

Alex :-)

( Posted by: londongrey [Member] On: August 23, 2004 )

Alex, I'm sure I wouldn't have minded if you did invade. As long as you bought soothing words and cool hands for my head. It was an intense and strange night. Such a fever and so much cold snow laying only feet away outside. Pure poetry.
Peter, thank you for getting the irony, I love when people do that, get me, that is.
warm regards huni.

( Posted by: huni [Member] On: August 23, 2004 )

Thanks for commenting and you have got the enclosed feeling perfectly. I felt completely enclosed: in the old style corner, bottom bunk, in my night time aloneness, in the way the high fever shut me off, (I withdraw when ill and can't take sympathy but so badly need it) and the weird way the surrounding snow seemed to shut me in to my own heat more. thanks for the compliment tina it means a lot from you. huni.

( Posted by: Huni [Member] On: August 23, 2004 )

Yes -- this is what I'm looking for! And the weird thing is, I don't usually like meandering poems of this sort. What was it about yours that caught my imagination and left me grinning like an idiot? It's your little asides and imaginative sensational experiences, goddammit!

My favourite:

"A wombat in the woodwork agrees,
nods at me and I respond
and then for a while we star
in our own Dances With - movie."

How perfect is that? I'll be checking out more of your work.

( Posted by: Viper9 [Member] On: August 23, 2004 )

things on the wall and things not on the wall-- talk about off the wall---- i love cabins like that Huni. good un.

( Posted by: williamhill [Member] On: August 23, 2004 )

Cabin Fever
I'm with Viper9 on this one, I usually don't like meandering poems either but this one held my attention with the sarcstic commentary. Very cool!

( Posted by: Odysseus [Member] On: August 24, 2004 )

tasting fever
What a beautiful account- I can almost taste your fever and experience the heady weight of it all. I especially like the fox- it could be a hallucination or perhaps it could the author or just a fox looking in on the feverish occupant. Huni- i like tasting stories and this is defnitely one gastronomic experience! have a great day!

( Posted by: shakti [Member] On: August 24, 2004 )

Fever friends
Viper, goodness, I thought you had confused my poem for one of Nae's sexy ones. Thank you for such an erudite comment, I hardly feel worthy. I loved that you grinned, I chuckled a lot as I wrote it.
Thanks charlie, you know that means a lot to me.
Odysseus, I love that some one cool thinks I'm cool.
Shakti, you have it right with heady weight, thank you for tasting.
warm regards huni.

( Posted by: Huni [Member] On: August 24, 2004 )

out of the woods
Wow, I was practically born and raised in a cabin in the northern pa mountains, what a reminder, and so eloquently put, are you my sister and did you live with us, lol j/k, very nicely done and so enjoyable to read. $th stanza, should that be better to have done nothing than have nothing done? And thanks for the encouragement on the Haikus.....Bob:)

( Posted by: poetryman [Member] On: September 5, 2004 )

First, you are welcome bob. Glad to see so many giving it a go. I only did Haiku when I first joined but now enjoy poetry as well. Thanks for such a great comment on my poem. The stanza you mentioned is a play on words I guess. Better not to ask, than ask and not get what you need, sort of thing.
I grew up in out back Australia and on farms. So the snow and cabin experience is only one week a year. Still am fascinated by it even after 10 years. Nice to catch up with you Bob, regards (Your sister in spirit) huni.

( Posted by: huni [Member] On: September 5, 2004 )

worth another read. Miss ya huni.

( Posted by: Pen [Member] On: February 10, 2011 )

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