The poetry and nonfiction of Sandy Jeffs’ is harrowing. Her Memoir, Flying with Paper Wings was published in 2009 by Vulgar Press. It garnered the SANE Australian Book of the year in 2010 and was shortlisted for The Age book of the year. Other awards include:
Nomination, 2010 Human Rights Award
1994 Commended, Human Rights Award Victorian Women’s Role of Honour
1994 FAW Anne Elder Award
Poems from the Madhouse: 1994 FAW Anne Elder Award
Poems from the Madhouse: 1994 Commended, Human Rights Award
Poems from the Madhouse: Victorian Women’s Role of Honour
Poems from the Madhouse / Now Millennium: 1994 Winner, Mary Gilmore Award for Poetry
Poems from the Madhouse / Now Millennium: 1994 Commended, Human Rights Award
Poems from the Madhouse / Now Millennium: 1993 FAW Anne Elder Award
She begun the session by paraphrasing Ginsberg’s Howl, ‘I have seen the best minds destroyed by madness. I have seen them drag their drunk bodies around hospital wards, shackled by their ball and chain of medication’ and finished with ‘As they search for something that eludes them. I see these broken people with shattered personalities, trying to piece together the fragments of their lives, that will never be whole or united again. I’d seen their desperate struggles for survival against the foe, that knows no boundaries and has no compassion. I have seen myself.’ I adored this entrance, it was rhythmic, it was dark, it hollowed you out as you journeyed alongside.
Her poetry serves to de-alienate madness, sufferers, their families and ultimately our perspective of illness and psychosis. I loved that she highlighted the number of words which the thesaurus has for madness, “ an extraordinary lexicon” and the number of words for sanity, which were a little too underwhelming. She read a poem composed of every word associated with madness, one of them being ‘and I had a kangaroo loose in the top paddock’ . The poetry in its black humour works to parody madness. The humour makes people comfortable. It makes them laugh out loud and at the same time, it hooks you into its understanding. Mental health is still an issue which people are afraid to discuss. The societal taboos are loosening, but people are still hesitant, judgmental and afraid. Sandy Jeffs’ poetry undoes all these conventions, presents them in a way which we can relate. She also noted that, ‘with any mental illness, humour is essential to surviving it. The blacker the better and I mean, we specialise in black humour, we crazy people. Oh, blackest as the ace of spades, really.’
Another poem is based around waiting on the phone for a helpline, and Sandy reckons that we’ll be ‘stream-lining our breakdowns before we know it’. This is a really wonderful and clever way to present psychosis. Everyone has been the victim of being put on hold on those ridiculous services that ask you to press numbers to get to real people. ‘If you have private health insurance, press 1 and speak to a counsellor immediately. If you do not, press 2. To continue your call, please enter your medicare number, followed by the hash key. Please enter the four digit expiry date followed by the star key. Your number is 21037156435749818326426950000 on and on…. expiry date 05/14. If this is correct, press 1. If this is incorrect press 2 and start again.’ She also read a great unpublished poem about a Lunacity Warehouse Sale that got everyone going. When she read the title, everyone just bursts! I love how recording captures such joy, and also the chink of cafe-life.
As soon as her poetry lifts you up, it also brings you straight back down to earth. You crashed with it. You burnt with it. ‘You moved among us’ is a line from one of her poems, and I think it’s quite fair to say that there was another presence in that cafe, something which sat greedily in her poetry, preying on its listeners. But at the helm, Sandy was strong, viable, confident and intellectual. There was a give and take in her poetry which haunted me. ‘I prepare myself for the voyage, to meet with my grim companions, who have become the play-things of you, Melancholia, Mother of the black dog’.
In-between the two sessions which Sandy Jeffs spoke there were open mic poets. Poetry that day was inspiring. Both Karen and I read and were received well. I’m still waiting for Chloe to work up the nerve/courage to read her own work aloud. She’s a beautiful poet and beautiful poetry should be spoken and shared.
I had a really invigorating day at Stopping. I felt inspired. Sandy’s poetry moved into me and sung the same tune. These past few weeks have been treacherous with my CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome). I have been in and out of bed, a slave to the circadian, sleep muddled with dreams. Eating has made me exhausted. Sitting at the computer writing a poem exhausts me. Talking, walking and going to the kitchen from my bedroom exhausts me. Everything seems to exhaust me, but for those few hours of Saturday, even though I was tired and sore, I felt at peace with myself. Poetry drove itself into me, hit a wall and was naked, fresh and textural. I could feel it at my fingertips. I wrote poetry that night and it felt wonderful. It’s really lovely when you get to sit in the aura of a reader such as Sandy Jeffs, it made me feel a little more human. I know that people are beings who are so complex and coded that mistakes are inevitable. I know that I have weaknesses and I often feel insignificant because of my illness. Expressing myself through poetry, as a way of cataloguing or a chronicler of my illness is really enlightening.
Click here for more info. SAS runs every third Saturday of the month from 2pm-5pm @ Station Street Cafe, 26 Station Street, Nunawading. Opposite the Nunawading Railway Station.