Your disillusionment does not bring your promised liberation
Only further pain.
Your search for succor, for water at dry wells, following specious creatures
Down pathways to revelation is naïve.
Draw up all the beauty, the gentleness, awe, kindness, and tender love
Into an elixir, a cure-all, a bulwark.
Yet the world, spinning mercilessly, its monumental forces
Quickly, blindly, will overpower your haven.
The world is a war; a tsunami;
A Munchausen by Proxy mother who scrubs her child with bleach.
Look heart, at your companions as they make it through the days
Largely unaffected and calm.
Shout, cry, or surrender – you are gossamer: torn, emotionally raw, and afraid.
Stoic soldiers will put you to shame.
What can be left of you in the end, when every breath is gone,
every word spoken, every feeling spent, every silken thread severed?
Note: A pasquinade is an abusive ridicule or satire posted in a public place
Chromapoetica 
whew…intense in its imagery…mom scrubbing kid with bleach…ouch…but not too far afield with some of the families i work with…sadly…tight bit of writing there….
I’m sorry to hear about the families you work with and. as always, I appreciate your comments.
the…Munchausen by Proxy mother who scrubs her child with bleach…hit me right into the face and i second bri – excellent intense imagery in this anna
Thanks Claudia, your feedback means a lot to me.
A ruthlessly raw prose poem..very well-written. // Peter.
Peter, thank you, and your ‘likes’ make my day.
Violent, raw, beautiful in many places. This is excellent –
The world is a war; a tsunami;
A Munchausen by Proxy mother who scrubs her child with bleach.
That bleach line is nothing short of haunting and I’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning thinking about it
Thank you Luke, as I state in the following comment I came across a woman with this syndrome and it haunts me to this day.
I used to work in healthcare where I came across a mother who killed two of her adopted children by poisoning them just to get attention. It was horrific. I have worked with social services and currently mentor a girl who was diagnosed with failure to thrive. The depths of human depravity always hit my heart like a tsunami.
Great poem/prose piece, really hard hitting, the damage that can be inflicted by one human on another should not be underestimated, especially of the vulnerable, a child..thank you for writing this
Thank you, I can’t wait to read your submission.
Like Luke said…raw emotion. Your experience clearly emerges in the depth of this poem. Very strong write.
I find some things have to be said in their inglorious specificity and truth. Thank you for your engagement and feedback.
You are hard on your heart, but I can’t say your assessments of the world and its potential to destroy senselessly are unjust. Cruelty and kindness, love and hate, often amaze us with their extremes, perhaps a needed balance in a construct of duality, but personally I think duality is overrated. Very fine writing, and thanks again for the time you spent at my blog digesting my sestinas like a huge Italian meal. ;_) Hopefully, no indigestion.
I agree with you on duality, I haven’t found real use for it yet, multiplicity is so much kinder. Since this is a pasquinade I played the part of the cruelest part of myself (who else would publicly ridicule my poor heart). In a way I intended to show that the cruelty that so terrifies me in the world has a seed in my own dear heart so I am complicit, I bear a culpability, I must go out into the world and be at peace within me lest I too spread ugliness from within. I loved spending time with your ‘spoiled children’, I found them delightful.
Hard hitting, especially in light of your comments…well written, though no happy ending here..
Having absorbed a full -oad from the disaffected hearts, the affected heart turns on itself and assumes some culpability for worldly ways. A industrial-strength poem and an honest one. It will echo in my own heart and stay with me …
How beautifully put and an honor for my poem to have a place in such a spirited and gentle heart as your own.
Oh, you had me at the first stanza….a personal struggle reflected so well here.
And the rest of this marvelous, hard hitting, perhaps hardscrabble poem got me in the gut.
Our only child (now in the Navy) came from a failure to thrive foster home. His mother had 5 children and killed 3.
thank you for this excellent poem.
Lady Nyo…still shaking.
Now I’ve gone and cried. I admire you immeasurably for adopting from foster care. The young woman I work with had a sister that didn’t make it out alive. There are no words for these heartbreaks but we try to bend language toward an expression of anguish to ameliorate these burdens. For me, this regular exorcism allows me to continue to approach the world with openness and a vulnerable heart. To love fiercely.
bleach… wow
Intense punches, one right after another. I spent a year in foster care, multiple homes, during my fourth year. Those memories are as vivid as this very moment for me. Fabulous poetry.
Thank you, I have some experiences in common with you. I believe we have to say our truths out loud so that they don’t remain a chain of tethered monsters, crying in the dark.
“The world is a war; a tsunami”; wow, powerful intense write on a sad subject matter.
You scathing poem reminds me of that adage that the marketplace is no place for the heart … It’s why we assemble such clanky carapaces of ardor and spleen, hiding the heart behind clout and indifference and opaque concepts. And why that vulnerable intimate organ, once it finds a safe enough harbor, loosens its ancient infant cry … Your poem is not the salt but the response to those brutal grains rubbed into the bad enough wound of another damn day in the brutal city of Cosmos. Proof, too, that this song’s heart retains the feral privilege to still feel. Yay for the gorgeous terrible bleeding … a heart still beats in its home … – Brendan
I grew up surrounded by people terrified of their own vulnerability who projected fear, dysfunction, and misanthropy. As early as I can remember I resisted this influence and was ridiculed for my openness and engagement. I know that ‘a heart (that) still beats in its home’ has saved me from the cynicism, addiction, escapism, apathy, and horror that have claimed the lives of others I know. Thank you for your searing insight.
This is heartbreaking… no place for fear here… or it all?
Yes! This is really brilliant! We can tell our hearts not to be so open because it’s a cruel, cruel world out there…but a heart never listens to logic. Very powerful write! I loved the word choices and the delivery of your thoughts!
Thanks, in the first draft everything was there, the diction, the message, the lament, but it wasn’t potent. I had to return and reframe the verses (which were initially questions) which flowed well once I struck upon the pasquinade. Suddenly, I realized an attack would imbue the piece with the bite I was working towards.
I love your descriptions especially of the world…..it has a life of this own and reflecting the life that inhabits it….bkm
You’ve inspired such deep, articulate comments I hardly know what to say, except that, in light of Brendan’s comment maybe those who appear to be stoic, unaffected or calm are sometimes afraid to expose themselves, and hold it all in. Your poem evokes thought of such extremes.
Absolutely, I was using the black and white view of others as unaffected as part of the ridicule, the public shaming of my heart as I was explaining to Joy. To attack my heart with a sense of what’s wrong with you everyone else seems to be able to handle it, which is fallacious. Does that make sense? Thank you very much for your feedback.
Anna, this is fantastic! (I do apologize for my lateness!) So many love to spread poison when they can hide behind false persona’s…I personally choose to spread love, acceptance, respect. The one thing about this trip thru the cosmos…none of us are getting out alive! This piece speaks to me VERY loudly and on so many levels. I choose to start each and everyday with my heart open…and take the punches and the bruises as they come. At least this way, I am treated to some amazing inspiration for my writing and have produced some fantastic rants about us wonderful beings as a result! 🙂
Great to see you here! I appreciate and deeply respect your approach to life and poetry.