Long Laceration Poems
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in a moment that gave her a semblance of clarity
my Mom expressed without a shadow of doubt
at long last I am allowed to do and say as I want
it had been a very unhappy marriage
she had felt dominated and oppressed
but played her part in wilful collusion
dementia had robbed her off a functioning body
her mind was not even now a beautiful place
which it might have been had she made it to be
maybe the war was to blame for despair
the convention of until death do us part
partnership on an unequal playing field
I will throw myself into the cold river to perish
but before I drown I will stab you with a dagger
into your heart and draw blood and just retribution
darling remember that you are a champion
of swimming and therefore you will float
but it haunted Dad until his natural passing
why does she turn a knife in my soul to hurt me
have I not looked after her and gave her my love
there never was an ill-fated weight in our union
it is not your wife speaking but the illness
but he would not let go and therefore I told
of her sadness misery and utter dejection
how do you know she never said a single word of it
because she confided in me ever since I was a child
hid behind my rebellion and consulted me for support
I never knew whether it was the right thing
to speak because I don’t and he is now gone
maybe I owed it to Mom and he thanked me
looking back in sadness about her never having a voice
me the sounding board for her agony and contempt
I am not sure who suffered most from the switchblade
but self-laceration was never far from her skin
of course there have been happier memories
but I cannot brush over the darkness and anger
I love you with all my soul innocence and wisdom of age
ingested your love and felt comfort kindness compassion
but the pure thrust of a skean left an unforgettable mark
28th March 2021
Mother Poetry Contest
Sponsor Constance La France
Lines 35 words 374
Version 1
To my unfaithful beloved lover, my unfaithful spurned lover
I’ve been placed in the heat of love's passion gone
Betrayed since love's first kiss perceiving you were my heart’s desire
Always begging me to come over, yearning to hold my hand
I’m not taking this anymore, I’m the one to blame
From the heavens above, and the earth beneath
My soul is torn in this emotional game
Was it once love or is it now hate?
I am drowning in my tears, I am suffocating in my fears
All of the false hopes and dreams dead and gone
All Melted into ashes to rise up and to be strong
I am seeking for the remedy, the elixir of a new beginning
My mind wants to scream, my voice wants to choke
Pick me up, sunder my heart, I’m living alone in the dark
With each drop that falls from the sky, I’m bleeding away your love
This corpse of decay that once beat your name is setting me free for another love one day
Was it once love? I’m experiencing hate,
I’m drowning in my tears, I’m suffocating in my fears
All of the false hopes and dreams dead and gone
All melted into ashes to rise up and to be strong
I am searching for the ray of light for a new beginning
After being lost in the desert of scorching lies, I fall into a bloody gushing river, a river of life
Washing away the bruises from yesterday
Peeling the vivid masquerade clowns from my face
I see the reflection of a pulchritudinous figure being carved out of stone
I’m swimming in my tears, I’m overcoming my fears
All of the false hopes and dreams dead and gone…
Gentle hands upon rock foundation, the water flows freely
A sanguine drop on the rose petal nurtures a new creation
Feel the warmth. Start moving. Feel, take the breath of life
Out of the ashes from hearts laceration, I’m resurrected in the light
I am swimming in my tears, I am overcoming my fears
All the false hopes and dreams dead and gone
All melted into ashes to rise up and to be strong
A new beginning, crossing the boundary to a new frontier
Form:
A knife lie in her bed, her hand rests atop the hilt.
The satin maple bed frame lie bare beneath her fingers,
And the aliferous knife lie skin warm in the cradle of her hand.
A pile of gossamer shavings grow on her sheets,
Surrounded by splinters near her pillow-
concealed by soft down.
She awaits the conception of a fish,
Sat in the pillar of her crib.
She pictures she’s an old wiseman, with an Appalachian drawl
Widdleing on his back porch- rocking on a pine chair
The bones of her fish turn crimson-
A red herring
The laceration in her thumb lolls a bright serum
She was stopped by worry, but then she recalled-
That’s what the knife was for anyways
Since industrialization there’s been agitation frustration palpitation trepidation vociferation
And unequivocal asseveration in favour of our planet’s welfare glorification and protection
Premeditated or not, the results on the planet are nothing short of brutalization and martyrization
Damage is irreversible and orchestrated with acceleration towards matricide and genocide no question
Axiomatic domination exploitation contamination violation decimation decapitation
Take their toll from appropriation to deforestation, amputating earth’s lungs without arbitration
Patronizing politicians greedy for ovations ignore aggravation assassination brutification asphyxiation
Not fooling anyone with altruistic motives of lavishing ones with undue admiration and accreditation
We’re beyond allegations and accusations of criminal irresponsible desensitization and legitimation
Way beyond denials repudiation vacillation and claiming a convocation for immediate restoration
The truth is we’re an actualized and glorified civilization cohabitating with vegetation and crustacean
We claim to have more intelligence yet all we show is irreverence greed alienation and agglomeration
The truth is the damage humans have created in the last hundred years amounts to irreparable laceration
Optimists say it’s not too late to opt for self-preservation with inspiration adaptation and indoctrination…
AP: 1st place 2022
Submitted on March 26, 2018 for contest TRIPLE A CHALLENGE sponsored by ROBERT HAIGH - RANKED 8TH
My father waits at his table
for my delivery
a carton of cigarettes, some booze
to patch places of laceration
his health waning, piecemeal, like a trail of crumbs
dismantled independence
the coldest solitude of age
he lifts the cigarette carton I bring, crashes it to the table
"I told you regular smokes, not King size!"
flawed purchase on my part,
catching his smoky torch of rage
my father, no longer a full self of goodness
his prostate cancer, a derailment
our scripts dysfunctional that divide us
like broken cement
still, I shop for him, a life alone in a gray wasteland
my duty, a quest for inner peace
the familiar charity in my father drifts from him
like cigarette ash, up in smoke
I kiss his cheek before I go
unguarded moment
to heal battlefield wounds
to open barricades between us
the battered stumble of hope
Poem composed: January 23/2022
Memory houses soul asylum vestige...
where complex edifice once anchoring
venerated Glen Elm demesne once stood,
now nothing except vinyl city!
I recall breathtaking, expansive, incredible
numerous, tremblingly awe inspiring views
billion miles (slight exaggeration) heavenly
sights comfortably ensconced, while perched
high atop sadly long since demolished complex
edifice anchoring Glen Elm demesne – summer
mansion property captain Leiper (circa early
nineteen hundreds) more'n century ago once
encompassing hundred plus acres whittled to
approximately 2.42811 hectares upon purchase
February twenty eighth ninety sixty eight by
papa Boyce Brandon Harris, insync with help
courtesy paternal grandpa Aaron Harris, the
former who invested blood, sweat and tears,
when not yoked, tethered, obligated... to
incumbent duties consonant with assignments
linkedin, when gainfully employed as top notch
mechanical engineer at General Electric, he
slaved away gentrifying neglected fixer upper
(matter of fact single handedly reshingled roof)
that same exterior hideaway offering solace
against imprecation, ostracization, ultimatum...
damnation, humiliation, laceration, (albeit verbal
lashing against yours truly), when exhibiting no
motivation to work (courtesy thank debilitating,
immobilizing, paralyzing anxiety/panic attacks),
now though still plagued with same understood
as congenital (possibly in utero) malady, yes an
abominable, execrable, implacable..., nemesis
which unpleasant memories haunt me even to
this day, whereby nothing but utter failure cast
dark shadows analogous to edge of night oft
times accompanied with suicidal ideations,
whereat damned, continually bereft, abysmal
bereft legacy testimony marginally functioning
as the token "scapegoat" throughout twelve
torturous years yielding absolute zero aptitude
unable to comprehend, (I strongly suspect die
hug noses along high functioning autistic
spectrum - case in point youngest of two sweet
progeny (both daughters) afflicted with yepper
aforementioned cognitive learning disability,
she benefited social services since birth, and
can attest to much more positive academic,
and socialization endeavors well on her way
living clear and free empowered at twenty
orbitz round the earth.
Suffocation experienced analogous
to absent echocardiogram
or electroencephalogram blip
(Derek Chauvin - he of
George Floyd infamy) iron maiden grip
linkedin with psyche subjected
to laceration courtesy cruel horse whip
mine inexcusable
(albeit clueless faux pas)
family members living social in Bend, Oregon
and Oakland, California did yip
private information across cyberspace did zip.
Apology (ex post facto)
extended regarding about
mine guilt ridden conscience
programming mental state
think sufferable infinite
jesting Möbius strip
casting dark shadow of doubt
looping along outer limits
of twilight zone
futilely shucking off
emotional tailspin (kamikaze) fallout
impossible mission
unable to muzzle or thwart lout
who poetically blurts out
simian old routine programmed
erroneously heavily incorrectly
peppers entire Hollerith
or IBM punched cards
yielding botched defenseless redoubt,
when Yankee doodles dandy
teapot short and stout
convection currents trigger
whistle Dixie when liquid piping hot
a microcosm concerning plate tectonics
across webbed wide world
yielding necessary oomph
to migrating trout.
Absent awareness
flourished amidst ignorance
sixty plus shades of gray matter
hotly doth smolder and burn
unbeknownst rancor did furiously churn
when yours truly divulged
he made aborted attempt
to couch his genuine
paternal care and concern
lack of discrimination
and judgment I did not
(honest to dog) recognize nor discern.
Understandable blameworthy
grievance against me,
not granted app parent permission
thus culpability I obediently yield
words that sparked hurt
now utilized to wield
heft to communicate authentic love
(cryptically coded)
and hermetically sealed
hopefully in due time
mine discretion well healed.
“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what we told my mama
when my daddy had his strokes.
Seven long years by his side,
caring for his body, paralyzed.
Fearing for her health we said:
“You can’t take care of daddy
till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what we told my mama,
until my daddy died in 1985.
“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what I told my wife
when her mom’s simple operation
became a septic laceration.
As she tirelessly cared for mom
I feared for her well-being.
“You can’t take care of mom
till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what I told my wife,
until her mom passed on in 2011.
“Take care of yourself first.”
That’s what my wife told me
as my mama slowly wasted away,
physically, mentally, emotionally.
And we willingly provided the
loving care that she deserved.
“You can’t take care of mama
till you care for yourself first.”
That’s what my wife told me,
until my mama left the scene in 2015.
Take care of yourself first
when you experience the worst,
for if you fall apart, for certain
you’ll be someone else’s burden.
At the verge of parched tears arrested in fear
Kim was enveloped by morbid sadness
Enshrined in her prison cell and stiletto in hand
tension rose on the surface buried inside
A cutting edge waiting to act upon visceral gloom
called for incisive bloodletting action
One life one laceration away from cliffhanging lightening
small visceral droplets engulfed a low rising soul
No morning dew on mournful contempt and self-castigation
cast out into casket's nails of grave conclusion
Ready to push one final dagger into her heart she wished
for terminal silence composure and freedom
She stumbled and was once more washed away
into guilt failure anger and endless void
Thunder and fire bolts turned into hail storms
‘Hallowed be thy name and forgive me’
Heavy crystals pelted her skin and frosted her soul
moulded a foundering slip on treacherous slope
Kim fell on her self-imposed dagger in the thawing of time
and woke up in a raindrop and the bubble could burst
The cut bashed from a hike in the woods , and the roll down the
Hill and the wound if not washed and dressed with the proper
ointment will fester and have a malodorous odor. The wounded
hiker should as duty calls rush home, head to the closet , seize
the first aide kit, and wash the laceration conventionally as a
nurse would. And apply ointments and gauze to avoid problems.
But left untreated one part of our anatomy is unseen and forever
hidden of the prying eyes of X-rays, ultrasounds and surgeons on
operating tables or exam rooms. Its even hidden from the one
whose body it was given to before all ages. And we know this
because the Holy Spirit has given us our soul to enrich and
enliven us. I can talk to my soul by telling him I love him and
listen for responses and welcoming guidance.
What can I do to my soul after years of wounding. Addiction,
sexual exploitation, lack of nourishment of prayer to God,
neglectful adoration of God and degradation of my soul left
alone imprisoned through indignity after indignity until the wound
festers and my very being lingers on the verge. No ointment or
gauze or bandage may be of service to the substance of my
being. Alone the body moves as the soul watches a silent
tear ,gradually, and slowly gushes out of the heart of mine own
eye as he lingers crying.
Those lasting words pour through my lobes as with each gasp,
reaching further inside of me for something hidden, I see a
shadowed face tear struck and wanting, reaches and pulls me
forward.