(This poem is alluded.
Dedicated to abused woman everywhere.)
Out back where the ravens cry I daydreamed
of our first encounter some twelve years back,
when I foolishly thought you might be
some golden god descending, then quickly
your face faded toward night, in
the garden where acorns patter down
and scatter, where your muffled step passed
by in stealth
(This is the vision from which I've hurtled
toward Hell since the first day I met you)
I don't know, descended god, just why
your step made my blood pound
and snatched me up before a gusting wind,
grazed Heaven, then eventually plummeted,
shattering my newly loved image
in the mirror
It was your foul hand that brushed
my shoulder, answering my anguished cries,
dropping the mist of torture
and lamentation over my world, that hour
whose coming was written in the stars.
It was your crystal-hard gaze peering
down to my roiling depths, their
yearnings straight from your Pit.
I know your true work, you artful, oily
fool, and as wretched, sniveling
prey I have not divided you from my
suffering, but fully fused you to me
in that awful fire
These scarred limbs I can hardly tell
from yours on the pathway laid
with your lethal lies, and I would happily
crush your grasping, greedy
hands that pretended loving caresses
to temporarily slake the thirst
of my dying
How could you? How could you have
damned us both to Hell by
creating beyond your measure,
diffusing yourself into the human
via lonely angels seeking but a memory
of heaven?
If the music already sung were to be
sung again, it would show your
dark destiny fused with mine
on a single track through the flames
to the pyre, where I would
spear what passes for your heart
and offer it up, still beating,
to the harrowing majesty of Death,
your one and only true master
--Jo VonBargen 2011
"POWERFUL" "I calculate if I can afford all those years in the slammer if I went ahead and made your day" YOUR THIN BONES Letters I Never Sent You - on Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005LKBR6A
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