it was a selfish, vain request.
Strayed from God, strayed from hope,
a welcomed ride down that slippery slope.
A shunned self-harmer I've become,
though took no blade to anyone.
Confused and guilty, unrepentant,
no convincing though incessant.
Dreams were never this revealing,
cuts so deep yet with no feeling.
The sweetest smell adorns the room
as I dress my deep, symmetric wounds.
Why me, this messenger of doubt?
Borne from parents so devout.
We parted ways, this party-bride,
no longer needs a parental guide.
I'll still be around, they'll find dove feathers
crying out for our 'togethers'.
So lift a stone, I shall be there,
I'm the breeze you feel in the evening air.
Who'll sit with me on the ragged rock,
as I bathe the blood that values shock?
Sweet St.Francis promise me,
that no more holes will ever be...
Driven hard into my wrists,
by this I know that God exists.
Crucified, stigmatic hands
is not what body weight commands
No prayer, no sunshine, fountain wishes,
makes them accept 'whatever this is'.
St.Francis, hold my hand at night,
once the night nurse switches off the light.
24 comments:
Oh, Lena. This got to me. Whatever I say, can't do it justice. It's just amazing.
nice...great flow to this...oh i have took my turn on the slippery slope...no saint...some great rhyme here...
This is a masterpiece! Very moving.
Lena, Thank you for your honesty. The depth explored in this piece touches me. The angst at the end haunts.
~Brenda
Wonderful. Great ending!
So powerful and fierce..between rejection and resolution..lies life itself!!
Very powerful, thoughtful and sad.
An excellent poem, Lena. Very disturbing, though.
How far have you got with your list in the previous post? You'll be sorry you posted it, I usually am; promises, promises!
Dark and lyrically tragic.
Thank you all. It was quite a daring piece to write but I usually stick with the first idea the prompt induces.
That's what I love about Willow's pictures, not knowing what you'll get and the mighty swing the writers produce week to week. It's always exciting.
ps....Friko - I managed a start to a few but am thinking of changing 'tomorrow' with 'by the end of the year.....!'
Wow, what a powerful piece of writing. I don't know what else to say; wonderful.
May I add, thank you for visiting and commenting on my blog. It's nice to meet another writer. :-)
Glad to see one find comfort in St. Francis, delightful read.
Glad to see one find comfort in St. Francis, delightful read.
wow, very moving and chilling piece. the images are quite disturbing. well done.
This is so powerful. Excellent.
Very moving, Lena. This was lovely:
'So lift a stone, I shall be there,
I'm the breeze you feel in the evening air.'
Sad and moving take on the Mag. Beautifully done.
Anna :o]
It's a well to remember, there's nothing in the dark that was not there when the light was shining!
I like this. I can relate to this waywardness very well.
Thank you for your visit and kind words.
What a great piece that is. The flow is superb and it sent a chill down my spine.
Hauntingly stark and beautiful. Love the juxtaposition of the images of "dove feathers" and the lifted stone.
Wow, here is a piece that is working out a lot of "stuff" and doing so with an interesting clarity in the midst of madness. I relate, because my husband has gone through a similar ride away from the folks and their beliefs.
The painting of your Simon kitty is marvelous and I bet it makes him seem nearly there with you. I notice a real similarity in the fullness of Simon's and my Bleecker's mouth area...don't know the exact term but I've always called it the cats jibs. Very kissable, you know!
I am overwhelmed by this powerful piece of writing. So many layers peeled away exposing raw emotions. Brilliant.
Lovely one, I really liked the flow of the poem, and the message is very powerful! Excellent piece
Apologies for the late visit.
Post a Comment