Thorazine shuffle

[tmanzano]

I started feeling sorry for myself
long before I had seen my reflection
in the shimmery linoleum tiles
stretching into blind corners

Toward magnetic doors
where melancholy macaroni people
strapped to rolling recliners
stare at Plexiglas TV's

I wear yesterdays black and white
a step at a time, one two, one two
but see breaths collectively stop
when the dead walk the halls

As cold as this place is
my head has been on fire
they slam it into origami cups
rattled at me like a baby

Coo and fall
face first into tomorrows
slobber on Fir spoons, flavor
mixed with vanilla ice cream
makes it taste like Wednesday

When they are out of vanilla
I get an extra rattler
sucked up in a syringe
and a bolted bed of oak
from the eighties

In gloves, they pull my hair
because it make me twitch
and no one wants me spitting
while my eyes are closed

They say things like, "We'll talk about this later"
wrap my wrists in sheep's wool, wrapped in leather
clasped by buckles, pulled
tight enough to close my eyes
because choclate doesn't have a taste
and neither did feeling sorry for myself

[Magpie]

I started feeling sorry for myself Good start, especially as it's repeated at end
long before I had seen my reflection emphasizes the feeling of self pity
in the shimmery linoleum tiles I like the detail on
stretching into blind corners these two lines

Toward magnetic doors Excellent detail (I know those doors)
where melancholy macaroni people I like the sounds of this line
strapped to rolling recliners more good detail
stare at Plexiglas TV's again

I wear yesterdays black and white
a step at a time, one two, one two This be the shuffle
but see breaths collectively stop
when the dead walk the halls good description of medicated to the eyeballs

As cold as this place is
my head has been on fire
they slam it into origami cups more good detail in origami cups
rattled at me like a baby nurse Ratchet

Coo and fall
face first into tomorrows I got a bit lost with this stanza here
slobber on Fir spoons, flavor slobber = tardive dyskinesia?
mixed with vanilla ice cream
makes it taste like Wednesday

When they are out of vanilla
I get an extra rattler
sucked up in a syringe
and a bolted bed of oak I'm presuming that from here to the
from the eighties end is describing ect
Shock therapy?
In gloves, they pull my hair
because it make me twitch
and no one wants me spitting
while my eyes are closed

They say things like, "We'll talk about this later"
wrap my wrists in sheep's wool, wrapped in leather good detail again
clasped by buckles, pulled
tight enough to close my eyes
because choclate doesn't have a taste
and neither did feeling sorry for myself nicely rounded off, it feels complete

Hi, I must admit I was drawn to this as soon as I saw the title. It wasn't until I looked up thorazine and saw that it was chlorpromazine/ largactil that I realised I was on the same stuff.
This brought back a lot of memories for me and I think that is testament to the very good use of detail in your poem. Especially the first two stanzas. It was the magnetic doors reference that sent a shudder through me, poised to snap shut at any moment. I did get a bit lost in the middle, not sure what "Fir spoons" is referring to. When I mentioned tardive dyskinesia, it's the side effect of a lack of dopamine, which causes slobbering, I don't know if that is what you were referring to.
I like the way you finished it by referring to the first line, it feels complete.
I personally think it's very good, the use of very specific details, describes that world well and it certainly brought back a lot of memories for me, that nightmare of being caught in a trap which isn't really a trap, but it's a personal hell and if only the shrinks knew how hellish it was then they might think twice about putting people on it.
Thanks for sharing this.
Mark

[tmanzano]

Everything you have mentioned is on point, including the tardive dyskinesia. I admit I am a little lost with the fifth stanza. I am already working on it. I wanted to infer the flavor of the wooden spoon, they are made from Fir trees, and the way it mixed with the vanilla ice cream. It was the only sense of time. They have vanilla on Wednesday and were usually out by Saturday. I really like how you mentioned the "snap" of the doors. I wish I would have incorporated that sound in my opener now. Although, most who have been behind those doors will already know that sound. What a suspended world that is. I enjoyed your comments and working on that stanza as we speak. I work many hours and find little time to play, so it may be a few days. Thank you for your critique.

[allykat727]

I started feeling sorry for myself
long before I had seen my reflection
in the shimmery linoleum tiles nice imagery
stretching into blind corners what do you think of switching this line with the one above it?

Toward magnetic doors
where melancholy macaroni people nice alliteration. these words roll off the tongue. do they mean something besides this?
strapped to rolling recliners again, nice alliteration
stare at Plexiglas TV's

I wear yesterdays black and white I think it should be 'yesterday's' with an apostrophe to show posesession
a step at a time, one two, one two
but see breaths collectively stop hmm.. what is 'see breaths' trying to say? is this 'see' in the visual sense or see like 'well, you see...' like you are about to explain something.
when the dead walk the halls

As cold as this place is
my head has been on fire i like these lines.
they slam it into origami cups
rattled at me like a baby you have up and switched verb tenses. perhaps you should say 'and rattle'?

Coo and fall
face first into tomorrows
slobber on Fir spoons, flavor
mixed with vanilla ice cream
makes it taste like Wednesday like Wednesday? I can't seem to make sense of this.

When they are out of vanilla
I get an extra rattler
sucked up in a syringe
and a bolted bed of oak alliteration again in this line and the one before it. very nice.
from the eighties

In gloves, they pull my hair
because it make me twitch typo? did you mean 'makes'?
and no one wants me spitting
while my eyes are closed

They say things like, "We'll talk about this later"
wrap my wrists in sheep's wool, wrapped in leather are your wrists wrapped in sheep's wool or leather? the repetition of wrap is confusing
clasped by buckles, pulled
tight enough to close my eyes I might suggest something like 'pulled tight enough to smash my eyes shut'
because choclate doesn't have a taste
and neither did feeling sorry for myself

Thanks for the read