My scars flames–
The sides of my back,
pock marked brown
if not daily oiled in
the red, orange, white
trailing once welted scars,
faded, now barely.
if even seen–
if I should like,
or if I so prefer,
burning back past paths
behind so I may fly
to places I wish,
to my soul.
My scars flame–
Only I see
and only I know
the power contained
in my flaming scars.
Belief needed in the moment–
See diamonds, rubies, sapphires,
Gold, treasures to cherish.
Let the mirror reflect
The lies to eyes
In needing desire.
Do not hold them in harsh sun.
To withstand such blazing light.
Gently bury them deep
Beneath the soil
Of a needing heart
And the damp decay
Of foolish wants.
Let the lies take root
Growing into the very soul.
We tell ourselves,
The truth at bay,
As the lies grow
The rot of hopelessness
Into our very souls.
We reject the second mother you would give us, reject subjugation of ripped rib bone, accept not the pain from seeking knowledge.
We have borne brutality for the ages, Silent always, In churches, In governments, In streets, And in our homes. Our mouths learned silence, keeping us, at least, alive.
Oh, we were worthy of protection As long as we were your possessions: Your mothers, your daughters, Your sisters, your wives. As long as you owned us And we did as we were told, We lived, perhaps, unbruised.
But the brave have shown us Through the ages and now again They show us another way. We find our voice, Too strident for your ears, But even our whispers Are too strident for you.
You will mock us, Vilify us, this we know. Proudly we wear the mantle Of the first mother, Lilith, the one you deemed An enemy long ago and banished. Her spirit moves us to speak Against the men who take Even our bodies from us. You may beat us, kill us, Force us into marriage and childbearing, Rape us, place weapons into the hands Of the children we bear, Weld the chains of slavery upon us, And laughingly say we asked for it Should we complain.
Yet after all that and more, Our submission you will not have. We will rise like an ocean wave Wakened by a great quake Beneath the sea and drown you With the devastation of your hate.
Soon some of Lilith’s daughters Will march. Some will wait across The Earth.
But Lilith’s mantle Covers us all. The quake is coming. The wave will free us all.
A wish to follow the sun
And always know its light
Was a childhood dream.
I never wanted to know night.
Terrors happened without light,
So began my craving
For warmth and light.
The natural world and its order
Cannot satisfy such cravings.
One must learn to live without light.
An adult adjustment, a drooping in the spine
Of spirit, a caving inward happens
When childhood cravings must give way
To the knife sharp edge of the adult
World order, how one learns to avoid
The blade of reality, curl inward.
Others hammered out cages
That seemed to fit for me.
Told me to shut up and be happy.
Each wire in the cage a reason
For my unhappiness
With which the one who wielded
The hammer had nothing to do so it was claimed
Each wire a welded bond of a reason
Why I should be happy
If I shut up and smiled
A pretty smile
and wept tears of happiness
Upon my fiery, welding savior.
For years, I kept silent.
Silence made for a peaceful cage,
So I had learned.
Then it happened.
My silence gathered round me,
Head to toe,
Wrapping me in darkness and warmth.
At first, panic.
Nothing good ever happened in darkness.
But I felt them start to form.
A pain I had never felt before,
Starting in my mouth,
Traveling down my throat,
Seeping out either side of my spine
Between my shoulder blades.
Giving birth had been less painful
Than this, as if new bone and tissue
Formed and moved and settled in.
After a few years,
the chrysalis of silence split open.
I spoke as my new sprouted wings dried,
“You were the wires of the cage meant
To keep me from the warmth I crave,
Meant to keep me from the stirrings of my blood.
Meant to keep me from the sun.”
I am caged no longer now.
I migrate with the sun
And all things those with cages
Sought to keep me from,
Things that stir the blood,
Things that feed on
The warmth of the sun
Are mine to alight upon.
We reject the mother
Born to subservience
of ripped rib bone.
No longer will we accept
Bloody beatings and brutality,
Rape and rage,
No longer do we accept this pain
As payment for the sin
Of seeking knowledge.
For millennia, we were lucky to live unbruised
As long as we were your possessions:
Your mothers, your daughters,
Your sisters, your wives.
As long as you owned us
And we did as we were told.
But through the ages,
The brave ones have shown us another way:
To seek the spirit of our true mother,
The one born in the same earth of equality.
So we find her voice and our own.
Though you would silence us
With vitriol and mockery,
The brave ones have taught us well;
We will never be silent again.
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