For all girls like me, White girls, Mixed girls, Black girls, Asian girls, Chubby girls, Smart girls, Lonely girls, Horny girls, Latino girls, "Good" girls, Voluptuous girls, Preacher's girls, "Bad" girls, Battered girls, Bullied girls, Little girls, Lesbian girls, Born-Male girls, Married girls, Baby-mama girls, Different girls, Unique girls, Stubborn girls, Perfect girls...All Girls who have considered suicide
(With loving thanks and humble apologies to Ntozake Shange, author of "For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf", 1977)
This post may offend some sensibilities. It is not my intention to cause grief or discomfort. Too many of my sister women suffer from this disease and someone has to step up. I cannot cure it, but I can sure tell you how one gets it and what kind of life to expect. I will never apologize for my Truth, now or ever! My only aim is to love and enlighten. --Safe journeys...Jo
(With loving thanks and humble apologies to Ntozake Shange, author of "For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf", 1977)
This post may offend some sensibilities. It is not my intention to cause grief or discomfort. Too many of my sister women suffer from this disease and someone has to step up. I cannot cure it, but I can sure tell you how one gets it and what kind of life to expect. I will never apologize for my Truth, now or ever! My only aim is to love and enlighten. --Safe journeys...Jo
Yeah.
Two summers ago.
Someone close.
He beat her so bad
she was hospitalized. Twice.
Attempted murder.
Threw her on the bed so hard
it broke the frame
and her frame?...shattered.
Neck swollen, wrecked,
from strangulation.
When she got out
she had to move twice
in two weeks.
Bought a new bed.
He kept finding her.
They married last fall.
Baby in January.
I could only howl
"STUPID GIRRRRLLL!!"
And sob with
frustration.
Dear God, she has the gene.
Two summers ago.
Someone close.
He beat her so bad
she was hospitalized. Twice.
Attempted murder.
Threw her on the bed so hard
it broke the frame
and her frame?...shattered.
Neck swollen, wrecked,
from strangulation.
When she got out
she had to move twice
in two weeks.
Bought a new bed.
He kept finding her.
They married last fall.
Baby in January.
I could only howl
"STUPID GIRRRRLLL!!"
And sob with
frustration.
Dear God, she has the gene.
("Daddy? Can I go spend the night
with Jerry Jean?"
"NO". "Please, Daddy?" "I said NO")
("Daddy?" "Shhhhhh" "Can I ask you
something?"
"Shhhhh" "Can't you see I'm reading
the paper?"
"But, Daddy..."
"LATER. I'm reading.")
("Daddy, do I have to go to church
today?" "What kind of stupid
question is that?" "Go wash that
lipstick off right now, young lady!
You look like a whore.")
("Daddy?" "I'm busy." "I...I just
wondered if I could go skating
with the youth group Friday night?"
"I don't know anything about
that." "But, Daddy, it's kids from
church!" "Will there be boys?"
"I guess there will." "NO." "Don't
go around boys. You'll get
pregnant." "Huh?" "You heard me.
I don't want you hanging around
boys!" "Daddddyyyyyy..." "NO!"
"Well I have five brothers, do I
stay away from them, too?"
"Your brothers won't get you
pregnant!" "Huh?"
"End of conversation, young lady!"
"You just listen
and DO what I say."
Sobs.
There I learned to be silent.
To be seen and not heard.
I learned my words had no worth.
My opinions were not wanted.
Thus, I must have had no value.
SHE SPEAKS ONLY WHEN
Wading the bubbling plasma of
history, you stop at a vault
smelling of decay.
It is a grave.
Tell yourself it doesn't matter.
Do anything but this!
You know his vile temper.
Stab open stored boxes, rake
under the bed for
secrets.
There are words hard as stone.
Breastplates of pain, some misshapen
will. The rest is too hard.
Seal the door.
Crackling fills the air!
It is very hard to own what must
be called from the deep.
Blades shoot from heaven
through your hair.
Oh, you've done it now.
There must be cures, but none
cheap, none here.
Refuse these urges.
He has reamed you through this time.
Gather up your pieces, those
you can find.
Eyes closed, find the nameless sea
of sad lights. Thread the sky
with a silent blue scream.
Walk ashore. Do not trip.
Inside your sabotaged mind, where
even he cannot reach, crawl
up the dunes
and peek over.
There.
Just beyond reach, your
heart lies gleaming...
like something you cannot
afford.
with Jerry Jean?"
"NO". "Please, Daddy?" "I said NO")
("Daddy?" "Shhhhhh" "Can I ask you
something?"
"Shhhhh" "Can't you see I'm reading
the paper?"
"But, Daddy..."
"LATER. I'm reading.")
("Daddy, do I have to go to church
today?" "What kind of stupid
question is that?" "Go wash that
lipstick off right now, young lady!
You look like a whore.")
("Daddy?" "I'm busy." "I...I just
wondered if I could go skating
with the youth group Friday night?"
"I don't know anything about
that." "But, Daddy, it's kids from
church!" "Will there be boys?"
"I guess there will." "NO." "Don't
go around boys. You'll get
pregnant." "Huh?" "You heard me.
I don't want you hanging around
boys!" "Daddddyyyyyy..." "NO!"
"Well I have five brothers, do I
stay away from them, too?"
"Your brothers won't get you
pregnant!" "Huh?"
"End of conversation, young lady!"
"You just listen
and DO what I say."
Sobs.
There I learned to be silent.
To be seen and not heard.
I learned my words had no worth.
My opinions were not wanted.
Thus, I must have had no value.
SHE SPEAKS ONLY WHEN
Wading the bubbling plasma of
history, you stop at a vault
smelling of decay.
It is a grave.
Tell yourself it doesn't matter.
Do anything but this!
You know his vile temper.
Stab open stored boxes, rake
under the bed for
secrets.
There are words hard as stone.
Breastplates of pain, some misshapen
will. The rest is too hard.
Seal the door.
Crackling fills the air!
It is very hard to own what must
be called from the deep.
Blades shoot from heaven
through your hair.
Oh, you've done it now.
There must be cures, but none
cheap, none here.
Refuse these urges.
He has reamed you through this time.
Gather up your pieces, those
you can find.
Eyes closed, find the nameless sea
of sad lights. Thread the sky
with a silent blue scream.
Walk ashore. Do not trip.
Inside your sabotaged mind, where
even he cannot reach, crawl
up the dunes
and peek over.
There.
Just beyond reach, your
heart lies gleaming...
like something you cannot
afford.
SIXTEEN
A child
I was a child
My Daddy didn't love me.
I KNEW it.
You were a handsome
uniform, a fucking vice
grip on my heart
You sucked out my whole
past and future
with a bloody kiss
right behind
the baptistry
at church
You were twenty
I was fourteen
Nobody saw
but Jesus
My eyes wanted nothing
to escape like worms
I nailed down your hands,
absorbed your insidious
mind into my still
growing bones
You gripped me so hard
my future went away
and just like Daddy said,
I was pregnant.
He LET me marry you.
He gave me away.
It was statutory rape, Dad.
The shame was too great
for him to shoulder. To this very
day, I never expect any man
to care enough for me
to be protective! (Well,
until yesterday, when I at last
connected the dots.)
Kinda late, Tex, STUPID GIRL!
The current dude sits around
staring into space
fantasizing how to kill me off
without getting the
blame. Do I know this
for sure? No, but I can
feel it. The energy field
around here is POLLUTED
with his hostility.
Two weeks into it,
my husband kicked
and beat me
me so severely I lost
the baby. I swallowed
the truth and
the terror, told family
it was just
a miscarriage.
We toppled off the
brink into
endlessness
Your glances were
galloping ghosts,
your whispers, whips
Your love tricks
dragged me to the trap
but my smile was
a spider bite, and your
damned head a
lopped melon
In our dreams we took
each other hostage, pulled
out all the
connective tissue,
popped out two kids,
stuck our screams
in the wall
A child
I was a child
My Daddy didn't love me.
I KNEW it.
You were a handsome
uniform, a fucking vice
grip on my heart
You sucked out my whole
past and future
with a bloody kiss
right behind
the baptistry
at church
You were twenty
I was fourteen
Nobody saw
but Jesus
My eyes wanted nothing
to escape like worms
I nailed down your hands,
absorbed your insidious
mind into my still
growing bones
You gripped me so hard
my future went away
and just like Daddy said,
I was pregnant.
He LET me marry you.
He gave me away.
It was statutory rape, Dad.
The shame was too great
for him to shoulder. To this very
day, I never expect any man
to care enough for me
to be protective! (Well,
until yesterday, when I at last
connected the dots.)
Kinda late, Tex, STUPID GIRL!
The current dude sits around
staring into space
fantasizing how to kill me off
without getting the
blame. Do I know this
for sure? No, but I can
feel it. The energy field
around here is POLLUTED
with his hostility.
Two weeks into it,
my husband kicked
and beat me
me so severely I lost
the baby. I swallowed
the truth and
the terror, told family
it was just
a miscarriage.
We toppled off the
brink into
endlessness
Your glances were
galloping ghosts,
your whispers, whips
Your love tricks
dragged me to the trap
but my smile was
a spider bite, and your
damned head a
lopped melon
In our dreams we took
each other hostage, pulled
out all the
connective tissue,
popped out two kids,
stuck our screams
in the wall
HER DECAYED LOVE
after kicking her senseless
he stood over her, grabbing
a towel to reshine
his combat boots while she
sobbed on the floor,
curled fetally
he sneered at her
pain and spat, walking out
to the patio where he
could sit and relish her
demise, imagining her body
on the bend of a path,
loathesome carrion
tossed carelessly,
legs raised like
the once-lusty woman
she was, belly open,
ripe with exhalations
he smiled at the thought
of her as a rotting
heap, triumphant
in sending her
back to nature
through the flies humming
on her putrid belly,
larvae in black battalions
spread like a heavy
liquid along the tatters
of her flesh
on her tear-stained face
were the fears of
all the years she'd been
with him - she waited
til he was gone to check
her wounds, her bruised body
covered with black
shoe-polish, her fractured mind
humming a strange music
of running water and
wind and of grain in
a winnow,
rhythmically shaken
and tossed
she knew that one day
she'd go beneath the grass
and flowers to meld
with the earth which would
preserve her bones
- the real essence
of her decayed love and
endurance, and only then
would she dare smile,
the Queen
of all grace
"How're things going?"
"Fine, Daddy", I said softly,
looking at the floor,
pulling my sweater over
the bruises. The shame
was too great. I didn't want
him to say "I told you so."
I finally got the courage
to divorce him. A few weeks
later, he stole my boys
and lived abroad with them
til they were grown.
after kicking her senseless
he stood over her, grabbing
a towel to reshine
his combat boots while she
sobbed on the floor,
curled fetally
he sneered at her
pain and spat, walking out
to the patio where he
could sit and relish her
demise, imagining her body
on the bend of a path,
loathesome carrion
tossed carelessly,
legs raised like
the once-lusty woman
she was, belly open,
ripe with exhalations
he smiled at the thought
of her as a rotting
heap, triumphant
in sending her
back to nature
through the flies humming
on her putrid belly,
larvae in black battalions
spread like a heavy
liquid along the tatters
of her flesh
on her tear-stained face
were the fears of
all the years she'd been
with him - she waited
til he was gone to check
her wounds, her bruised body
covered with black
shoe-polish, her fractured mind
humming a strange music
of running water and
wind and of grain in
a winnow,
rhythmically shaken
and tossed
she knew that one day
she'd go beneath the grass
and flowers to meld
with the earth which would
preserve her bones
- the real essence
of her decayed love and
endurance, and only then
would she dare smile,
the Queen
of all grace
"How're things going?"
"Fine, Daddy", I said softly,
looking at the floor,
pulling my sweater over
the bruises. The shame
was too great. I didn't want
him to say "I told you so."
I finally got the courage
to divorce him. A few weeks
later, he stole my boys
and lived abroad with them
til they were grown.
WARRIORS ALL
(for my Sons)
These words were written for my sons many years ago, after their father and I divorced. On a weekend visitation, he stole them away and went abroad, hiding them there until they were grown. I read this poem at a university literary gathering of 250 people in the early nineties. That night, when I got home, there was a message from my Father that my sons had found us on their own. We left the next day to go to them.
You have seen the chaos of war
in a marriage, even the ruins of
hypocritical peace, until he spirited
you far away from me,
to parts unknown
I continue to search, my fair
sons, following crumbs through
the woods with no clue
I am warrior with no time
to weep. There is no planet too
vast that I cannot cover
every inch, to seek you
in the face of each
stranger
Though I may be gray with
old age, the day will come, it
will come, and all the hounds of
Hell will not hold me back
Until that blessed day, my
children, I send you these thoughts
which I aim at the sky, praying
they will glance off the stars
back to you
Be pragmatists in your
observations, but act always
with strong optimism
Fight hard for the truth.
They'll forget who built
all these false temples
but they'll clearly remember
who burned them
down
Be worthy of honor, not
cheap lifetime fame...let them say
your names like a prayer
after death
Steel your eyes and sharpen
your words so you can fight even
with severed hands
You are sons of the Universe,
proud souls I adore and
never deserved to lose
Keep strong in your hearts that we
are warriors, warriors all, and know
that I have loved you far more than
a cross or a crown
--early 90's
STUPID GIRLS, DON'T
BE LIKE ME!!
It's a pattern. I keep doing
it over and over.
IS THIS THE LIFE YOU WANT??
(for my Sons)
These words were written for my sons many years ago, after their father and I divorced. On a weekend visitation, he stole them away and went abroad, hiding them there until they were grown. I read this poem at a university literary gathering of 250 people in the early nineties. That night, when I got home, there was a message from my Father that my sons had found us on their own. We left the next day to go to them.
You have seen the chaos of war
in a marriage, even the ruins of
hypocritical peace, until he spirited
you far away from me,
to parts unknown
I continue to search, my fair
sons, following crumbs through
the woods with no clue
I am warrior with no time
to weep. There is no planet too
vast that I cannot cover
every inch, to seek you
in the face of each
stranger
Though I may be gray with
old age, the day will come, it
will come, and all the hounds of
Hell will not hold me back
Until that blessed day, my
children, I send you these thoughts
which I aim at the sky, praying
they will glance off the stars
back to you
Be pragmatists in your
observations, but act always
with strong optimism
Fight hard for the truth.
They'll forget who built
all these false temples
but they'll clearly remember
who burned them
down
Be worthy of honor, not
cheap lifetime fame...let them say
your names like a prayer
after death
Steel your eyes and sharpen
your words so you can fight even
with severed hands
You are sons of the Universe,
proud souls I adore and
never deserved to lose
Keep strong in your hearts that we
are warriors, warriors all, and know
that I have loved you far more than
a cross or a crown
--early 90's
STUPID GIRLS, DON'T
BE LIKE ME!!
It's a pattern. I keep doing
it over and over.
IS THIS THE LIFE YOU WANT??
AN OLD SOFT SHOE
hello, please come in, look
around, get comfy.
you're clean cut, that's
always a good sign.
Jack Daniels?
here's the first thing:
I'd like to stand you next
to, um, dear old Dad.
he's controlling, distant,
unaffectionate, demanding,
too busy to make time
for me, brilliant,
tops in his field and
annoyingly religious
(think Nazi Jerry Falwell).
did I mention hypocritical?
now...you must not be
anything remotely
like him, you must be totally
opposite. but you must
also be an exact
effin bebop-a-lula clone
of the old fart.
it's what I know.
oh, have I confused you?
yeah, well welcome to the club.
no one here understands
it either.
now here's the next thing:
it's my friend, Torment.
you must be able to
wring out a heart
like a dishrag, pry bloody
nails out one by one,
peel skin like
a banana, and bathe
me in acid when done.
I see you wince, was I not
clear? you must love
me in the manner I'm used to,
my dear.
that wasn't love? oh, but it
was, my prince, it was.
I laid my heart on the altar
daily and they filleted
it like a brook trout.
and, well...
I got used to it, you see.
but, I already knew how
it went, because, well...
Dad...so it's what
I knew and know and have
in my mind as love.
it doesn't have to be?
I smile. It does.
I keep doing it over and
over and over.
it's what I know, luv.
it's what I know.
it's like an old, soft
shoe that you'll never get
rid of because it fits
you so well.
they'll bury you in
the damned thing.
STUPID GIRLS,
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?
Quit looking for that DADDY LOVE
in every man you meet. It's a damned
FAIRY TALE. A lie of the mind.
Think, darlings.
BEFORE YOU ACT
NOT AFTER
when it's too late
You are beautiful. You are capable.
You deserve Love. You are worthy.
You will find only misery
if you miscalculate like I did.
There is no rush.
Take your time.
Have a cold shower.
Don't let your twitching sugar bowl
make all the decisions.
Be all that you can be
BEFORE you pair up.
Then you'll attract someone
like you, who is healthy, whole,
and ABLE to love you
in the manner you need.
I met someone like that once (sob),
such a perfect match,
a brilliant, utterly loving soul mate
dropped right in my lap
by benevolent spirits
and then. stupidly, to my
everlasting despair, I walked away,
childishly jealous of a
non-existent chimera
sniffing around,
because I am only now
realizing that when I met him
I was still a STUPID GIRL
who stayed on instead
(for what I thought were noble reasons)
with the STUPID man I already
had, who has so perfectly
tortured my heart
for a million years
And now I grieve utterly,
profoundly
for the kind of true love
STUPID GIRLS
can never have
I beg you, I BEG you,
DON'T BE STUPID
like me and live out your
last years in a loveless prison
of your own making
--Jo VonBargen 2013
hello, please come in, look
around, get comfy.
you're clean cut, that's
always a good sign.
Jack Daniels?
here's the first thing:
I'd like to stand you next
to, um, dear old Dad.
he's controlling, distant,
unaffectionate, demanding,
too busy to make time
for me, brilliant,
tops in his field and
annoyingly religious
(think Nazi Jerry Falwell).
did I mention hypocritical?
now...you must not be
anything remotely
like him, you must be totally
opposite. but you must
also be an exact
effin bebop-a-lula clone
of the old fart.
it's what I know.
oh, have I confused you?
yeah, well welcome to the club.
no one here understands
it either.
now here's the next thing:
it's my friend, Torment.
you must be able to
wring out a heart
like a dishrag, pry bloody
nails out one by one,
peel skin like
a banana, and bathe
me in acid when done.
I see you wince, was I not
clear? you must love
me in the manner I'm used to,
my dear.
that wasn't love? oh, but it
was, my prince, it was.
I laid my heart on the altar
daily and they filleted
it like a brook trout.
and, well...
I got used to it, you see.
but, I already knew how
it went, because, well...
Dad...so it's what
I knew and know and have
in my mind as love.
it doesn't have to be?
I smile. It does.
I keep doing it over and
over and over.
it's what I know, luv.
it's what I know.
it's like an old, soft
shoe that you'll never get
rid of because it fits
you so well.
they'll bury you in
the damned thing.
STUPID GIRLS,
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?
Quit looking for that DADDY LOVE
in every man you meet. It's a damned
FAIRY TALE. A lie of the mind.
Think, darlings.
BEFORE YOU ACT
NOT AFTER
when it's too late
You are beautiful. You are capable.
You deserve Love. You are worthy.
You will find only misery
if you miscalculate like I did.
There is no rush.
Take your time.
Have a cold shower.
Don't let your twitching sugar bowl
make all the decisions.
Be all that you can be
BEFORE you pair up.
Then you'll attract someone
like you, who is healthy, whole,
and ABLE to love you
in the manner you need.
I met someone like that once (sob),
such a perfect match,
a brilliant, utterly loving soul mate
dropped right in my lap
by benevolent spirits
and then. stupidly, to my
everlasting despair, I walked away,
childishly jealous of a
non-existent chimera
sniffing around,
because I am only now
realizing that when I met him
I was still a STUPID GIRL
who stayed on instead
(for what I thought were noble reasons)
with the STUPID man I already
had, who has so perfectly
tortured my heart
for a million years
And now I grieve utterly,
profoundly
for the kind of true love
STUPID GIRLS
can never have
I beg you, I BEG you,
DON'T BE STUPID
like me and live out your
last years in a loveless prison
of your own making
--Jo VonBargen 2013
