Long Disfigurement Poems
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1. The Rap Sheet
At your age
you should have put aside
the relentless rounds
of self interrogation
and found some plateau
of peace washed by
warm memories, acceptance
and absolution.
But just when you thought
you had been granted freedom,
the mind's Stasi finds you
and the forensic questioning
continues under the glare
of guilt. The same
rap sheet - you were never
good enough
to be a citizen of the State.
Only now you are slowly losing
the strength to hang on
to what little you have
and not confess.
In the end it is not
a matter of who is right
and who is wrong,
it comes down to survival.
2. A Confined Space
Finally it becomes inescapable -
the accumulations of a lifetime
solidify into a cell. Every fear,
every avoidance, every step taken
to withdraw cements a brick
in place until you have imprisoned
yourself within four walls. Then
you close the self locking door.
Your life now is a confined space
and your only hope of salvation
has become a small crack
in the wall through which
the universe shines through
in such exquisite detail
and brightness and is made
more so by your own dark.
3. Staring Fear In The Face
You are a good practitioner,
a cultivator of fear planted
in the fertile soils of childhood.
You have grown the most grotesque
blooms whose perfumes paralyse
and waft for years without
a loss of potency. Some stick
in the throat and send panic
clamouring for breath.
And so here you are, old man,
wearing the disfigurement
of your own making, the contorted
masks of fear. You stare
into the mirror, past the horror,
shame, the loathing, the lifelong
condemnation and shrink
before an illuminating light
whose source you fear,
who sees you and yet
still loves you.
Getting a good slot
You may have to play a lot
When experience is fed
Hours worked worried about reality debt
You arrived noted as a star
Talked about inside the local bar
Needing a transition in life
Having the power to say a my kid and wife
Taking your time
Success coming at another’s dime
Driving in
Listening to rock roll sin
Or the barking voices
Making rhetoric noises
This was the place to go
Since they said you know
About the ball you throw
Checking the hour
Glimpsing at the bank clock tower
Entering the security gate
Person inside the booth makes you wait
“I know you from the college game
Please let me know your name?”
Pushing the button to let the window down
Smiling no need for a frown
You did not lie
Telling the uniform guy
“Touchdown Tony
You know me from your flat screen Sony”
Defense trying to assist
Being the right guard checking the list
“Touchdown Tony
I know you are not a phony
Welcome to the Land of Broadcasting to the Lonely”
Taking his ride to another level
Touchdown Tony cruising like the Great Satan devil
Finding the best slot
Parking himself thinking he was still hot
Sitting there
Nothing to fear
Elevator in the midst
Up down it will go hit or miss
Suddenly a one arm bandit appears
Still having a fortune’s ability to steer
“I am so glad
You came Dad
Pull my arm give it a spin
Touchdown Tony once again you may win”
You left the car
Not showing any disfigurement scar
This is going to work
A good idea to pay the bills from the flying stork
Everyday Touchdown Tony went back
Communicating in a sound track
Observing other quarter backs
Get sacked
It was then
You decided to retire to the den
Being the perfect Ken
Barbie serving you naked wings
As she tried to sing
A lovely lullaby
Putting her child to bed not hearing a cry
Only a sigh
Knowing she married a rich guy
Jah has laid out the design of his plans
a world wherein happiness stands
each man will have his own land and vines
within his life will see happier times
The pursuits of his toil in joy he will seek
the fruits of his labor not another will eat
a child will reach an hundred years old
millennias past this truth was fortold
Some seek Nirvana and some Shangri-La
the truth about life some prophets saw
a place where mankind will dwell in peace
from the pangs of this life and deaths release
The fullness of what we are will exist
the bounties untapped within not resist
irresistible will be the Love of neighbor
the sharing of all for which we labor
Treatment of others and our earth will be good
instruction to build wisdom is understood
nothing on earth will be causing harm
no child will ever suffer alarm
No disfigurement or mar in body be known
the curing of disease Jesus has shown
healing the nations and teaching the truth
enlightenment of mind for mans new youth
Six thousand years of comparison God gave
to know that we have all been enslaved
enough of time to see what we've lost
and the price to all that it has cost
The first angel to fall into sin did man lead
God has taken advantage to show us our need
we will be like God knowing evil and good
no longer deceived by lies and falsehood
For centuries religions have kept man asleep
so few among us the secret do keep
Mankind in joy will reach his perfection
each now responsible for his own rejection
sources Gen. 1 & 2 Isaiah 11, 13, 24, 28:5-12
Jer. 12:10-11 John 5 , 6:32-33 Rev.17-21
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C Michael Miller
I do not like to see my face floating
At the foot of a ewer,
nor in drops of water, nor in the glassy eye
of a slaughtered goat.
I am beautiful, but water and cloudless gems
distort, they are torturers of disfigurement.
Since I saw my reflected beauty
I have been unable to mirror that perfection.
I have ardently endeavored
to emblazon the beacon of that first time,
when I, suffused in beams of crystalline air,
beheld my countenance clear
yet now I am caught, caulked, and diked
forever dogged by a stark magicking
from ever parading that delicate radiance,
that inaugural art of my gift,
my exquisite features.
Yet ever my mind’s eye returns
to that translucent and timeless time
that empyreal morn, so fine and fair
where I beheld what I thought was there
and believed upon it.
Searing, disruptive, gravitational,
the face came into focus from too far away,
long before anything at that distance had a right to,
monopolizing eyes.
There was an audible gasp from the passersby.
Or at least it felt that way.
A form of disfigurement,
as if someone had taken a lovely face
and tampered with it until the proportions,
the lines, the feeling of it were all wrong,
in the way that perfection was wrong.
Painful to look at.
I felt sorry for her,
burdened as she was with a miracle of beauty,
so far out of the sphere
of ordinary perception
it couldn’t even be remembered.
Except as a lingering of light on my retinas.
Inspired by the many true crime documentaries I have watched
and in memory of Judy Malinowski, whose death set in motion
a law in Ohio called Judy’s Law, to increase punishment to those
who use accelerants leading to disfigurement in felonies.
He started out gas-lighting her -
the wicked man who loved no one
except himself. He thought he was
number one– that narcissistic sun.
He also isolated her.
To no one could she ever run
except to him – that self-important
filthy scum – a narcissistic sun.
Her sister said, “No more. No more”
and helped her see that she
was not to blame for anything.
From that brute she had to flee.
It wasn’t easy. There were kids,
but when he blackened both her eyes
and bloodied her, she knew at last
she had to cut with him all ties.
She got an order of protection,
yet she lived in constant fear.
He stalked her, and she couldn’t even
know whenever he was near.
She was his prey, his possession.
To see his ex-wife having fun
he could not tolerate because
he was a tyrant narcissistic sun.
One day he followed her to work.
She did not have a clue
when she stopped to fill her gas tank
of what he had planned to do.
Gasoline he doused her with.
What pain and terror she was forced to feel!
That narcissistic sun, so hot with rage,
ended up gas-lighting her for real.
It is the awakening.
After long dreamless sleep, my time has come again.
Through endless cycles of night and day, of heat and cold
I have lived throughout history. My birth unremembered
as is my youth. I have lived for a thousand years but too many years
have passed for concern over such trivial matters.
I remember the long decades without water.
I was in my middle years then. A time when almost everything was lost.
This was the time of the great fire. The fire that almost consumed me.
Bright white flames burned down from the heavens and in an instant
scarred my rugged flesh, my beautiful skin blackened in jagged disfigurement.
Many of those around me perished.
I can no longer mourn those who have gone before me.
It has been too long and in that time I have recovered from my injuries and the disease that followed. I am again strong and tower over the
youth that surrounds me, young ones of a hundred years. Many my own. Now I must concentrate on drinking in the nutrients that the earth provides me, as I watch over the shrinking forest.
The past is the past
and the receding winter
is slowly fading away,
now I have felt the long
rays of the sun warming
my limbs once again and I have
awakened to a new world, a world
of renewal, a world of hope. My trunk
is strong and my pollen will soon fill the air
covering the woods in a yellow green dust.
New life will come as acorns sprout, and I will stand silent watch.
08/24/15
Enigmatic entropy endeavours the devouring of my depressive tendencies
In the form of an effaced anonymity
Pledging a tender hand to thwart the destruction of my anatomy
Distraught estrangement of in-autonomous tailing tellings
Shall cast this faceless stranger astray
Beyond the smooth syllables of an identifying name
For these hounds that thrash in the thick of sleep
And so do weep of singularity in accompanying company
Shall chase, shall gnaw at the face, the hand that feeds the freer frailty of freedom
And chaff this chance of a chance to escape
These samsaras of silence for the requiem of a dallied day
Dancing and dashing and prancing and thrashing
In the estranged fixation of this strange savior
That wilt know not of my inner ills, beyond the disfigurement of mine own outer mutilation
K.M.P
18//9//26
for far too long now
he had bottled up his emotions
stuck reason to his wavelength
and built an intricate structure
in the glass bottle of his mind
a real showpiece emerged
crafted by a master sail maker
a museum piece of an anchor however
and a bell that refused to ring
so tightly was the voyage enclosed
static it towered on a fire place surround
with other less prominent trinkets
a skinny laughing Buddha and some
Russian dolls mocking his very own
Potemkin villages and a bottle of Vodka
when the vessel hit rocks once more again
and descended into an underworld of passion
it crashed on a lighthouse in passing
and the beam of confusion burnt
a hole in the glass shelter
disfigurement shone until the bottle
emerged from its molten ruins
in the shape of a lifebuoy
he had always thought that
one pull on the life line
which raised powerful trim
would adapt to winds and slackened lull
easily at the push of pure will
illusions in doldrums and thunder
storms fair weather and dolphins
rocking his boat taught him
to swim on his own
search for sea shells and driftwood
and a hut on the beach
the best part about his construction
was that the old ship had never been
seaworthy and that trial and tested error
had been worth a passage of terror
now pacified and calm near the shoreline
23rd October 2021
Blood soaked disfigurement on the Cross of Love,
Etched markings of whipped cord; sinew of flesh torn
To shreds. Grimace of pain; ashen face of love
"Water! water! He cries, for I thirst. I thirst for love
For you and My Father. My body is weak and scorn
Is my food. My mouth is dry and I thirst for love"
Gazing down He cried "Father, forgive them, they
Know not what they do". Gazing heavenward He whispered
"Father, into your hands I commit My spirit." Day
Became night, incurring His rapturous hour of death
And with victory gain'd He sung His last words of life.
"It is finished" and fell asleep, now exhausted of breath.
Where now death your victory, where now death your
Sting? Can you not hear the Christ of God sing
His canticles, His psalms and glorias to His King"
Cradled now in His mothers' arms, her tears fall
Gently and mingle with her beloved Son's blood;
The sacrificial Lamb of God - Do YOU hear His call?
"Come unto Me all you who are heavy laden and I
Will give you rest and learn from Me; for I am gentle
And humble in Heart, and you will find rest for your
Souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."