Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Read Poems by Laura Breidenthal

Laura Breidenthal Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below are poems written by poet Laura Breidenthal. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

List of ALL Laura Breidenthal poems

Best Laura Breidenthal Poems

+ Fav Poet

Light on the Devil's Chord - Day 8

Contemplating on a previous conversation with Job and his wife,
I drew a breath of relief, remembering my humbling purpose
Sin was imminent on my brow, though I was beyond its impetuosity
Suffering dines with long-lived perspective, sharpening what would be—
In the wrong claws—feeble, bittersweet and opaque….

“You wish to humble me, woman,
Though only ride upon the uproar of time-ticking eruption
Breathing as if your own endurance will salvage your soul
You are in MY prison… MY pain . . . MY pride
No word from your conscientious lips changes who I am
Who I was, and who I always will be…
Humble me, woman, I dare you to cross that line,
Happily I will drink your sadness of futility like freshly squeezed wine
In time, babe, in sweet high-fly time…
I will sing with you like ever I did before,
Remember those duets?
Those dances we both know you floored and wanted more…” 

My eyes opened to his mind and I crept to his side…
“Job spoke to me about the death of his wife and children, 
How he sobbed and pounded the earth with his fists, 
Fumbling in the thoughts of “tell-me-what-have-I-done-to-deserve-THIS?”
He suffered because of you, as I do too,
And as all demons will agree, 
His self-absorbed mind recalled all of his right doings
He examined and uprooted all of his blooming flowers,
So that all his once good deeds began to rot in God’s eyes
For his self-righteousness gutted the wounds like hungry growing flies…”

He laughed, his voice deep, ravenous and dissonant in the tunes surrounding…
“Speak of good Job, as he suffered for me, 
Too good for the boils and scrapes of death surrounding so free,
The claws crushing his useless frame,
Mortality was his challenged artifice for stupidity,
Crying for silly things long gone…
Long taken for my amusement… he sung a sadder tune than you, dear daughter of dawn
He cursed God and all of His blessings, 
Never resting his mouth….never resting…
Just as you hold on the sudden gift of immortality,
Just as you wrestle with your  ever-flawed will,
The same human qualities of foolishness reside in you still…”

He turned to me, looking in my eyes with accusing glee,
Masking his pain for my pain…..
So in stronger melody, I again sang,
“The sufferings prolonged his existence to prove his endurance was not in vain,
To prove he could see beyond his self-indulgence—beyond material things…
His human ways humbled you to shame…
For he sustained himself in all of your inflictions to gain….
No longer was he clinging to his glorification
No longer did he feel the need to proclaim his righteous endeavors,
For the true leader can use the worst intent as a tool,
As useful trial and test, 
Not only to humble the fool, but to fatigue the evil pest.” 

This infuriated our Prince so that he clawed the ground near my feet,
Seething in the words that kept running from my mouth, 
Words that intended to speak of Job’s heroism,
And not to illuminate a weaker spot in his most hardened plate of armor

“I bargained for the amusement, not the outcome
I was never a tool for your God,
But a tool to my own pleasure and divide
I will never tire…I swear I will never tire…”

This was his only musical argument…

“We must look beyond ourselves in the face of horror and helplessness,
For in Job’s suffering, many others soon to come witnessed his miracle of atonement, 
As a human I once was, treasures I sought from above, 
And not in the achievements….the monuments of words etched in stone…
No man of faith needed a clear stand of history…
His suffering was rightfully recorded to let rise the glory of better things…”

Demons from all sides laughed, and The Devil stood still,
Livid with my swaying presence

“The longer you detain your humanistic frame,
The rise of your sure desire,
 The longer you fight in your trial you have created…
The more futile you will become,
The more fulsome in this prison I will be….” 

His claws carved a circled in the muck around us,
Zeroing in and demanding my interest…

“The more you dwell on such sufferings of the past,
And I mean not Job’s………
The more you will enjoy the pain I inflict upon you…
This I vow, woman, for you have crossed the line…
And you are in my circle now….” 


Post Comments

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Be the first to comment.