A vignette of domestic violence and the weird rationale of love amidst such
circumstances - adapted from how it was depicted to me by a female friend and
taken from her own personal experience.
I was defined china and porcelain,
Inlaid glass flowers and gently spoken;
Fragile in doe-eyed delicacy,
Pleading and begging not to be broken.
I loved him with total forgiveness,
Did not, could not, would not understand
The dark chaos mood of lability,
The spontaneous violence of his hand.
Blue and black bruises indecorously swelled
Question marks about tear brimmed eyes;
And I wept and despaired in confusion,
Smashed and grabbed by wherefores and whys.
How could he dream to hurt me so,
The brutish malediction of his touch?
How could he stand to hurt me so,
When he knew I loved him so much?
And now the years have drained away
Like sweeping veils of rain;
The agony of our breaking apart
Ever haunts me with anguish and pain.
I still see him some times,
Rarely, truly out of the blue,
On the old territory of familiar streets
When unconsciously passing through.
And always shook by the stalking truth,
A lancing bright-bladed knife,
And with dogmatic aching my heart lets me know
He was always the love of my life.
And I know there's no sense to be had
When I look to the heavens above,
Just the sad and lonely heart of the matter:
You never can choose whom to love.
Elegy to Child Lost
Passion's love oft tempts despair
Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
Babe snug beneath a mother's breast
Senses at this time are keen
There's no secret kept between
Loving mother, wriggling babe--
Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
But entwined twin was also loved--
Some say Nature's method proves
That one twin may give all to mate---
But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.
Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
or sense those legs that wandered miles
And daring feet that danced in tunes while
Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.
When babe vanished--not a sound.
Mother 's grief was not allowed.
Tempted so to trail behind
Escaping shattered troubled mind.
Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
Never spoke of-- never mourned.
By her husband she was warned
Was best forget a child so early lost--
Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--
But the years have called babe near,
Mother's journal writ in tears:
'Please forgive my selfish heart.
Repressed from all --this tragic part
I felt your sacrificial act--
You left your cherished twin intact'.
There is no law of random acts
Doctors examine data facts
It may be --that in the womb
When both spring flowers cannot bloom
One bold twin refrains to eat
Compels the other to complete
Hardy growth that life requires---
Sparks survival's crucial hours.
Not an accident 'tis sure--
Boldest spirits blossom pure.
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
Some boys called them dinks.
I called the bastards Viet Cong.
Others called them gooks.
Was it said before? Sure.
Was it said this way? I doubt it.
Perspective is in no way obscure,
And his works are nothing without it.
His motivation’s observed in daily life,
Misery, not just some vague inspiration.
He begs for reason, some way to lessen strife;
His words reflect a resounding desperation.
There seems a need at times to clarify,
But that’s allowed in his terms only;
So many thoughts seem somewhat ‘rarefied’,
Fed his fire, but made him lonely.
No ‘underachiever’, not just another fool,
But still seeking solace by the glass;
Tempering his stagger and his drool
With just a bit of ‘kiss my ass.’
But, usually, genius ‘sots’ come to ground,
Lucid moments - on the square;
Their driving ‘bolts’ of genius, word or sound,
Only written because they dare.
Yes, you can feel the written “heart”,
But few of us can realize that sort of pain;
No isolated misery… of many lives a part,
Each begs an answer... “Who’ll stop the rain?”
Yes, he’s lived it, seen it, and told it well;
But Timing is the Master of one’s Fate.
Is the timing right? Funny…only time will tell…
Will you will be a whining sot or dare to be great?
One success can be lucky, we’ve seen that before.
One book, one song, then quietly fade away.
But six novels later, we should know the score;
He must have had something to say.
So, at the perfect time, someone heard.
Someone who was “someone” took someone under wing.
And to those with interest and empathy, they sold his words;
Saying they “are genius” and with “ugly truth” they ring.
But did he create any redeeming changes or impacts?
Yes, what singular influence did all his artful whining bring?
None... just a relentless, repetitive diatribe of sad facts.
Oh, yes…..and a little “ching ching”.
Entered in the "Idiot or Genius" contest 27 March 2014
not so genius
It's been quite awhile
Discerned life's complexities
Took more viewpoints
Futile mass events
Authorities blamed each other
Attracted mix ups
Life is a choice
Majority can't accept it
Reality is just a thought.
Living is dying
Light coexists with darkness
Men of God glimpse more
Worst chosen valid events
Prayers can't alter
Consciousness soar high
Crab mentality exists
Inner is outer
You exude what you attract
Embrace all of them.
Cain's Self Denial 2015
4 a m again alone,
In a room full of peers
A raging war is being fought,
Confined between your ears
Drafted into battle, with no enemy to engage
Yet volunteering unwillingly fueling dueling rage
Mystic river flows, with the blood of innocent
No longer even knowing, or caring how truth was bent
Angry at nobody, and everyone in between
Sabotaging yourself, and unraveling every seam.
Whose roles change day to day
A game with no clear rules
Consciously unconsciousness, I know that I must pay
What promise can be spoken, to bring life into the void, uttered self denial, to speak within the ploy
And the enemy I can't see, nor begun to understand
Callously reflects my cards and always tips my hand
The price you pay for breaking souls, just keeps on feeling cheaper
You soothe your conscience with the ancient line that your not your brother's keeper
There's no bad and there's no good, you played the only hand you could
And the hollow eyes around you, pretend they couldn't see
You shake your head and try your best to pretend you don't believe
Yet you know too well the horror. . . Of what you've come to be
Two field mice took a walk one day
Then feeling tired, they'd walked a ways
They thought they'd stop and rest a while
For home was further on some miles.
Then they heard the pad of old Toms paws
Which spooked them quite a bit I'm sure
As the cat purred loudly to see the mice
And thought "a meal it would be nice!"
Their whiskers quivered nervously
As, our two mice made haste to flee
So off they scampered for their lives
As old Tom cat for them did strive
That old cat looked he, high and low
And where they were he didn't know
As the two they trembled neath a bush
They could almost touch that mean old puss.
Then Tom gave up and skulked away
And the two mice lived another day
And their lungs filled up with gratitude
They'd foiled that old tom cat, so rude.
Peace, Socrares Dec 2 2003
I want to drown my urge to die
I want to kill my pulse inside
I can't breathe, I'm paranoid
Everything in life I avoid
Don't speak to me, I'll look away
Inside my eyes is just decay
I'm already dead, but have yet to die
Why do I keep my body alive
My soul is dead, eyes are lies
So is the smile I hide behind
Pull the plug, I'm a fake
In a nightmare and I cannot wake
Drown me! I'm flooded in pain
Please help me regain
Some peace, some rest
I want to die to live again
Set me free
Slitting my wrists isn't working
The more stares I get
The more I become numb
I just need to be gone
Eliminate my pain,
I'm already out of breath
Suffocating on my hopelessness
Every day I am alive
But I'm craving to die inside
Curved smile because your so naive
You think I'm happy
Yet I'm being crushed
My head is overflowing
With these thoughts that are too much
One word, suicide
Sparks a light inside of my eyes
I don't want to pretend to live
Let me go, flood me in sin
There is where I want to swim
Six feet under the ground
Don't be selfish
And keep me in pain
To tourture my lifeless body again
Let my body float soundly
Rushing water, ocean salt
I promise I won't feel it at all.
End it, hold me under
Then bury me so I can slumber
Goodbye lifeless eyes
As I'm dying I'll be coming alive
Deleted from my mind
As I leave this world behind
Floods my lungs
Leans in for a kiss
Together we sink into insanity
And drown in infinitys abyss.
Anger rises like bile in my throat
It’s burning through my veins, squeezing my heart
A smile plays on your lips as you gloat
I must stop before I rip you apart
Sweet ecstasy of the rage controls me
It seeps in my mind, I tear through my skin
Smile gone, you see me, your worst enemy
Do not bother running, you will not win
The forbidden taste of fury so sweet
Again I warn you don’t bother running
You my prey are in for a special treat
You are fast but I am still more cunning
You’re no match for my monstrous bulk
Hear me roar, for i'm the untamed Silverstorm
Tonight, on the news!
If it bleeds it leads
and soon we ignore it.
Another young girl dead
and found in a local field.
What twisted genes can
evoke such pain?
Embarrassed to be male,
is what I claim,
and yet I know
in the dark corners
of our souls lurk
Old lady in Orinda
raped and murdered.
News for the day and
now, our normal
Like primates on the
we nudge the bodies,
and go on about our
To whit to be caught between two brothers
and become the sport of many others
She kept her heart from loving true
but not from the damage passing through
Oh twice spent the beauties coin
did deliberate vengence to purloin
thought knowingly did enter door
in spite she cast them to the floor
Though twas for couple it's own collusion
the device and trap it's own illusion
the crimes waylaid doth carry to the grave
to curse ones soul as fearful and not brave
Twas the story carried in her mind
her face to others she wished were blind
and with ones sight to look upon her heart
to know in violence was her start
She thought those sins would ever last
or to shake the paths of her past
in her fears her heart down cast
she did not know to forgiveness ask
Unable to differentiate between love and need
or if womans desire was only greed
If man looks upon her with his smile
is he looking for love or just another trial
She asks those questions to this day
must there be violence to graveyard pay
for many men have forced their way
in their behavior did have no say
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
The flower of youth plucked too soon
A mother’s world broken, dreams doomed,
A beloved son slain at high noon
A most despicable act of violence,
Drained all joy from the cup of life
Cruel and bitter the pain to endure,
Most tragic this turn of fate for sure.
Heavier than the vast and mighty Himalayas
The pain and suffering wrought by violence
Seen in silent grief and flow of tears
In the faces of orphans and refugees,
The tormented and abused
The crippled and maimed,
In the tortured minds of soldiers
Recalling many a battlefield horrors
In childhood innocence blighted
Witness to bloodshed unabated
None can chronicle the true toll of violence
Flooring so many to eternal silence
Yet this macabre dance daily stirred to frenzy
Goaded by men with no human conscience
Applauding with sadistic delight the evil in violence.
All violence most loathsome and evil
The epitome of our disgrace and insanity
Whether in wars, conflicts, riots, or communal strife
In targeted killings, racial profiling or petty fights
In conquests and cruel subjugation
Brutal torture that staggers the imagination
In quest for domination and power
On the streets or on the world’s arena
In insatiable greed for wealth and prestige
Exploiting and oppressing the poor and meek
In asserting our special purity
In caste and racial superiority
Violence indeed the cardinal sin
Even mere thought of harming another
However righteous and sacred our agenda
Is enough to darken our karma
Vain indeed our prayers and rituals
Sacrifices and sacred observances
When even an iota of violent thought
Resides in the recesses of the heart.
Bayonne, NJ, USA
A time of violence has pounced upon this country,
Folks are angry, hungry and craving prosperity,
The change they wanted never showed up,
Now, many are sad, melancholy and "tore-up",
The youth are becoming restless because they believe
there is no hope for a promising future,
All they hear is Politicians' lectures,
The wee ones are becoming infested with
feelings of despair, as colicky babies do,
They need to know that safety exists everywhere,
A country without a plan creates angst and restlessness,
Nevertheless, citizens forge ahead with optimism,
despite the whispers of skepticism.
We are tangled in our own restraints.
Canned and homogenized... Congealed and packaged.
We meander sheepishly through the one-way stalls society has provided.
Strategically placed in the direction they need us to be going...
We are distracted by our devices. We glance up to see the burning world; only to yell empty obscenities at the TV, and go back to our newest episode of electronic fantasy.
News is instant and constant. The grim reality is looking at us through our gadgets, but it's only as real as our video games.
Morality and honor died with our grandparents. And as we watch heads being severed in some remote, dusty hell, we feel only for a moment...
Our distraction is our salvation, for
Ignorance is truly bliss...