I’ll Be Damned

Babylon is bliss.
Ignorant kiss.
To be kicked out of heaven
On such a night as this.

If this is hell,
No one could tell.
Bottomless pit
From this rising well?

I will fall forever.
Patience is clever.
But don’t underestimate
My desire to endeavor.

Advertisements

monstrous responsibility

i may be a monster
but i possess some good
which i see is inconvenient
to the ending of your book

i may be a monster
but it’s implied that i was made
every wall was built
every evil brick was laid

which part did you construct?
what sins did you leave behind?
what dark design did you
conjure with your mind?

I’m simply a mirror
held to the face of man
when i’m wielding the ax
my hands execute your plan

sympathy for the seduced medusa

raped because he could
cursed for no good
snakes under this hood
see myself and turn to stone

never meet another eye
pretend that i am shy
lock the truth behind this lie
walk this wicked earth alone

someone’s out for my head
“i’m a monster,” it’s been said
made from blood a man has shed
i was merely trying to learn

the only wisdom i would gain–
knowledge of Poseidon’s pain
it’s a wonder i’m still sane
endless hell in which i burn

product of your sex-crazed town
you kick me when i’m already down
my heart dies without a sound
so you can ignore it

coerced/seduced
cursed and abused
quite simply reduced
to the slut who asked for it

 

Bad Poetry

This bad poetry brought to you by Starbucks home brew. 😉


Bad poems
Sour notes
Expert at failure
But this hope still floats

Story to be shared
Adventure to be dared
Spare your prayers
This program will be aired

Tune in
Or turn it down
The volume may change
But captions aren’t sound

Words are born
Veils are torn
Before the mourning
Offering of warn

You can write me off
I’m okay without your views
I can pen a thousand tales
You can’t silence my news

Bad poems
Shaky voice
To some I’m needed medicine
To others I’m just noise

Broken-hearted is not a bad place to be.

Under water
Bottom of the pile
Broken-hearted
Nothing left to defile

Can’t piece this puzzle
Ripped to ribbons
Remnants of this raiment
Spinning in oblivion

Naked emotion
Raw devotion
You can’t expect
A controlled explosion

Dangling in cliff’s shadow
Reaping fields that fallowed
Run aground in the shallows
Swallowed whole in the valley of gallows

Even the devil wouldn’t follow
Through this unhallowed hollow
Choke back a hard swallow
Funeral for the sorrow

Give you my word
If you’re still keeping score
You can blame me
I’ll fall on my sword

Can’t bring this heart home
It was born to wild around
Built to be lost in war
Through heartache I am found

Don’t Say Ain’t

Lithograph from erased highlight charcoal self-portrait, 2010–Martha Maggio
Ain’t nobody gonna love you like God, your mama, or you.
And ain’t nobody gonna love you ’til you do.–Martha Maggio


Walk in the room
Automatically assume
No one could ever love you

Why can’t you accept
That body they reject
Is just a vehicle for truth

The truth is–
Your beauty doesn’t come from:
A jar.
Your hair.
A great pair of: eyes, boobs, legs, shoes.
The end of a knife.

Your value is eternal, divine
Twinkle in God’s eyeshine
Not for everyone.

You are–
Far, far away from long, long ago
From freaking outer space.

So act like an alien and conquer the earth.


Or just love yourself from this rebirth.

To Dust You Shall Return

Photo: Martha Maggio, from the garden at Mount Carmel, potted Cyclamen, Israel

I know it’s not easy to love me.

Temperamental
Hard-to-handle
Hot-headed
Hothouse flower

Fading in the bright light
Swamped in the black of night
Wilting with any slight
Change

Strange
Delicate
Difficult
Intricate

Complex and rare
Complicated care
But my air is sweet
And I only bloom for you.

To my unfortunate gardener ❤
You shall turn the earth.

You’ll Understand When You’re Older

When I’m bigger
I might figure
Why you let me down

You say, “Wait.”
Fate will rend the hate
And love will leave me found

You say, “This was my best.”
That life is just a test
And if I walk away, I fail

But you’re the one who lost
Made your choice at such a cost
To our history the final nail

Now that I am grown
All I see you’ve sown
Is bitter beds of rot

And all I can do
Is move to land that’s new
Find a better lot

You can try to save what’s left
Fill the gaping cleft
Writhe in the ash and black

Mourn with the bereft
Let death have its theft
But as for me I won’t look back