Bathsheva's Bag

Stuff I'm into or not...speculations and ascribed motives and more...

Monday, March 9, 2015

post familial distress

An old conversation--rehashed about decisions made that I will not go into now. An older photograph of family that actually made me laugh. The lot of us look so uncomfortable, I can't help but think that any outsider seeing it, would think a steak knife to the eye would be preferable. <<< brought about this>>> 

Misery, intentionally causing misery, whether by contributing or standing by, malice and engaging in lashon hara are poisonous vines which tentacle out and suffocate all that come into contact with the blackened poisonous heart. These vines darken and pervert everything they touch. They crack the foundations of love, hope and joy. They rot the walls of strength. They annihilate the ceiling of light and protection. They render to dust, the house/palace/temple of love and piss on the sky.

It is only with enough pain, enough tears and the steadfast determination of an axe murderer shall you chop away this poison galley of death to find the light and the warmth of your inner sun.

This is my must, my truth, my everyday.

...and remembering a poem I wrote in 2006. When I wrote this unfinished poem, these aforementioned thoughts were not in the forefront of my mind--but obviously, I believe, informed the poem.


wax poetic
as you twist my words
like steel shards
you manipulate 
bending and designing
future worlds 
for us to play in
you construct
the next plateau
as i
nimbly jump
from rafter
to rafter
swinging on a crimson wire
with steel shaft
to another dimension


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