This is a recent autobiographical work...a lot of my poetry dwells on the past and being able to overcome...
Held captive as a
trapped small mouse
Shivering, panicked,
Heart beating wildly,
searching vainly for escape.
Toyed with, tortured
by a hungry tiger,
Forced to give
emotional nourishment
While starved for sustenance.
learning to feed on detritus and bile
To absorb the ugliness,
swallowing in thick sharp clots,
a dry, chalky barium that spreads inside
illuminating each hollow,
every unfilled corner,
Hardening to a brittle chrysalis,
Where transformation can occur.
Now healed and breaking free,
clawing outward, to
spread fluttering wings,
not those of a fragile butterfly,
But an armored warrior,
Tough, leathery pinions,
Steely scales and razor claws.
strong and invincible.
I will never be broken.
Cynthia the warrior princess brandishing sword leads the charge with rallentanda riding close behind.
ReplyDeleteI like this spirited poetry and the sentiments expressed-throw off the delicate butterfly wings
don the steel armour and razor claws.
However this is in the spirit of chivalry and honour.Now,Machiavelli wouldn't have done it like this.He would have used the guise of the gossamer butterfly wings with subterfuge to win.
You know,'behind the face of the buddha lies the heart of the scorpion' But not for you and I Cyn,let's go put on our razor claws and ride like hell!
I like the fighting spirit this poem evinces. Cathartic writing, whether it be poetry, fiction, letters or grafitti, can be very healing.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the good work.
mark
Oooo Cynthia!
ReplyDeleteYou've even got Rall riled! This is excellent (the poem, not riling Rall), especially "a dry, chalky barium that spreads inside/illuminating each hollow". But I hope we can get a glimpse of the fluttery butterfly!