poMotion poetry

Oppression’s Impression

with 4 comments

Sandpaper eyes

too traumatized to sleep

so I settle

for staring sightlessly off

into space

what?

Oh ….pardon me

im new

to the knowin

bout

the impressions

oppression keeps

in the hearts and souls

of

it’s current

fascinations

bear with me….

I just found out…..

the power it wields

and how seductive its call is

to the weak

fresh from healing

prey to predator

oppression

jumps back and forth

between the two

with equal ferocity and glee

it outdistances

the hands

ability to

combine and heal

im new to its effects…..

so my rage

is raw- edged… feral… real …

all consuming in the company it keeps

deep inside that spine

I havent learned how

to live and let go

of its effect

or how

to fly above it

so that I can view

it

far away

from the burnt out husks

it creates

in souls

that should be allowed to sing

rather then hoarsely call out

mercy mercy

please make it stop

where is my tenderness….you ask

snort

tenderness?

oh thats right I just

used it all up

wiping hopeless tears

out of sightless eyes

that no longer see…

from a woman

who chose

death

over imagined disloyalty

from a man

who committed

her souls murder

a long time prior

to breath

ever leaving her body

because

she

couldnt find a way

to heal

away from him

and couldnt grasp

the importance

her own life

had

on the people around her

no matter how many times

I said

there is a woman

coming after you

who will be

standing

right where you stand now

whose life

whose laughter,whose smile

and return to sanity

DEPEND

on your ability to rise above

and survive this

and so

yet another generation

gets to feel

the fresh raw edged

“real”

right here

in the now of things

because she couldnt

break the chains

or the addiction to his presence

her fear

triggerd his predator

his predator triggerd her prey

neither could have existed

without the other

and so the cycle continues

in oceans of time and wasted tide

and so

we are left here

with impossible guilt

and impotent rage

I wanted to scream out loud

to smash plates

I wanted to beg her

to value herself

in the way

that the rest of us

did

and frankly

I wanted

to use the truth

the way he did that bat

in the end though

I am left with the

knowledge

that the choice was made

long before I ever laid eyes on her

in the hands that changed her diaper

in the bruises she saw

on the face of her mother

in the society that

didnt teach her

how to embrace her own

beauty and strength

that forgot to gift her

with the sense of her own survival

and so I sit here

with sandpaper eyed

grief and rage

staring sightlessly off into the distance

trying to decide

how to channel

the what if’s

into the what are’s

trying to decide

if that

is

even possible


By Julie McCurdy

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Written by lickmypoetry

July 9, 2010 at 8:28 am

4 Responses

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  1. This is one of the more powerful poems that I’ve read in a while…it’s topic is immportant for many to hear and respond to…but over the years few…including the police have done little to address…thanks for this poem.

    slpmartin

    July 9, 2010 at 10:42 am

    • thank you i so appreciate your kind words and your truth-

      julie

      July 9, 2010 at 7:05 pm

  2. This is a wonderful poem. I love the image of “sandpaper eyes”, so vivid, so true.

    Brian

    July 18, 2010 at 3:58 pm

  3. shy awkward smile- thank you brian i appreciate that

    julie mccurdy

    July 18, 2010 at 6:17 pm


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