Been super busy with group slam stuff but here’s something pieced together. It’ll likely be chunked and pulled apart and added to in creating a new group performance piece.
It’s day 6 of NaPoWriMo and I’m trying another new style: a cinquain. Basically, 5 lines, 2 syllables for the first, 4 for the second, 6 in the third, 8 in the fourth, 2 in the last. Here goes:
I’m very on the fence about this poem. Mostly because I know abuse IS violence in every sense of the word. And I don’t want to cheapen the ugly, immoral, illegal activity of abuse. Too much time is spent blaming the victim in many cases. What I’m trying to show is that the violence itself is not really the worst of it. It’s the part we refuse to talk about that is the worst. It’s the unspoken pain that comes after the bruises heal. It’s the fear and destruction it does to the survivor’s psyche, self-esteem, self-worth, and everything that entails.
Also, the last two lines, the request, is directed at both abuser and survivor. Abuser: take a moment to think about what you’re actually doing beyond the physical, sexual, emotional violence; reconsider your actions. Survivor: take a moment to think about why you’re responding to this non-abuser the way you are. Survivors tend to self-destruct and destroy all they love, unintentionally, by way of the untreated trauma that comes with abuse.
So don’t be surprised if you come back here and this poem is gone. I have a feeling it too many will take this incorrectly, or that what it actually says is something unintentional.
This time I had a poem published in an anthology, Bear the Pall: Stories and Poems About the Loss of a Parent.
I was actually published a couple months ago but I’ve been keeping it on the down low. The poem I wrote, Hate, was never meant to see the light of day. The pain I divulged and the turbulence I expected it to created kept me from talking about it at all. But the reception was amazing. The editor has been very supportive, the other authors have been fantastic, and of course, everyone’s contributions have been incredibly heartfelt and touching.
And, frankly, reception from friends and family has been more positive than I expected. It’s rare that my heart is knee deep in my stories. So having a poem that had nothing but me in it and the possibility of losing friends when they saw the monster I hide from the world, and the possibility of family reading it and seeing me for the dick I am, I expected the worst.
So buy a copy. Read my poem. Read others’ contributions. They’re all amazing. Have a box of tissues at the ready.