Bent

.
.
From steaming
Darkness comes
More compromise
Bending truce
False brother
Love forgets
Futile shield
This forgiveness
Of unending lies
Cannot call back
A broken child’s
Wailing cries
.
.
Bear … 04.16.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015
.


.
.
.

There Was No Sky

.
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Silent snow and mountains
All around
All around
All around
Silent snow and mountains
All around
.
Babies cry
Cougar screams
Mother dreams
.
Lemon thorns
Escape
Mother’s tight
Squeezed eyes
Sweet blossoming
Orange trees
Buried upside down
Frozen in the ground
Broken roots lash
Disguised as
Sleeping hands
Fear locks the door
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Silent snow and mountains
All around
All around
All around
Silent snow and mountains
All around
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Lemon thorns
Escape
Mother’s tight
Squeezed eyes
Sweet blossoming
Orange trees
Buried upside down
Frozen in the ground
Broken roots lash
Disguised as
Sleeping hands
Fear locks the door
.
Babies cry
Cougar screams
Mother dreams
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
Silent snow and mountains
All around
All around
All around
Silent snow and mountains
All around
.
There was no sky
Above the day
Above the night
I learned to fly
.
.
Bear … 01.27.2015
ⓒBearspawprint2015

BRUN  —   Vedergällningen  —  Garmarna

wretched mother

.
wretched mother
mother of misery

it is because
your daughters

were your
daughters born

first and last
as daughters

you believed
cursed as yourself

did understand
that you hid

your true self
away behind shadow

personalities
acceptable for

volunteer hospital
gray ladies and

lovers and husbands
pretend men for

your pretend woman
the mundane horror

you wished to be
sympathized as

treatable simply
by twelve steps

so easy
for which you

had such contempt
that you cursed

yourself acquiring
more pain more

curses to hide that
there was no help

no cure for
the affliction

of your madness
your genius of

understanding
too easily

your suffering despair
for your desire to be

liked and wanted
and loved and

forgiven for
being born

too late to
take back

to undo your birth
cursing your own

mother’s womb
for bearing you

destroying your
mother’s life

your birth
revealing

your father’s
perversion

and your innocence
you never recognized

hidden by longing
hunkering behind

flames and smoking shadows
obscuring your outline

occluding the vision
of those around you

in a murky world of
pain and misery

your sons your
daughters grew

drinking smoke and
eating shadows

watching
chimeras dance

holding hands with
devils you married

the lullabies
you sang of your

unloved heart
knowing both that

you were the queen
of most loveable

and loved for
your illusions

and unloved
untouched

in your true self
save by tormented

captive children
while you danced

with your lovers
your jin husbands

drinking gin
cursing your self

cursing your children
cursing your nothing gods

cursing your death
cursing your salvation

wretched mother
mother of misery
.
.
Bear … 06.30.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014

Dressed For Dinner or The White Dog That Had To Be Black

One warm evening,

In late Indian Summer,

Mother,

Little Brothers, and

I were eating supper

By the big window,

Near the kitchen.

This window

Overlooked a

Dirt  crossroads.

A street light

Made a

Small pool

Of light

Emphasizing

The surrounding

Darkness of the

Moonless  central

Florida night.

Mother decided

That she would

Find amusement

In  testing

A new theory.

Her hypothesis

For the Proposed

Experiment:

Mother could force

Me to acknowledge

Whatever she decided

Was, was.

Me, her oldest child,

The only daughter,

Her stubborn girl,

Who insisted on fair,

Her child

Implacable in truth,

Would be forced

To say,

White was Black.

She wanted

Me to understand

That from a

Certain perspective

Some things are

More important

Than truth.

I, stupid girl,

Learned nothing.

What is, IS.

Life is truth.

Saying a lie aloud

Is not truth.

The shame

Of survival

Bears it’s

Own witness.

I slyly allowed

Her to pretend

Omnipotence

For the evening.

In magnanimous

Triumph, she

Did not punish

My Little Brothers

For being.

Mother even allowed

Them to eat

Their supper

Without having

To confirm

That the

White dog was

Black.
.
.
Bear . . . original 06.20.2013
. . . revised 06.11.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014
.
.

CARRIER OF THE KEY

*
*
*
When I was four,
I learned how to fly.
Away away
From this horror I
Cannot say.
*
To my two Little Brothers,
I taught this useful skill.
Away away
From this horror We
Cannot say.
*
Fly, fly away up high,
Watch it all from the sky.
Away away
From this horror I
Cannot say.
*
Sweet Little Blue Eyed Boys
Could not understand.
Away away
From this horror We
Cannot say.
*
Even with corporal flight, We were
Three children trapped in endless night.
Away away
From this horror We
Cannot say.
*
As Big Sister, when I was four,
I carried the Key to the Magic Door.
Away away
From this horror I
Cannot say.
*
Come fly with me,
Through the Magic Door.
Away away
From this horror I
Still cannot say.
*
Sweet Little Blue Eyed Boys,
Without language, they  had to forget.
Away away
From this horror We
Cannot say.
*
Through the Magic Door
Flew my Brothers and I.
Away away
From this Horror We
Still cannot say.
*
In the fragmented sky,
We were both caught and yet free.
Away away
From this horror We
Cannot say.
*
I remember Sweet Little Blue Eyed Boys,
And I remember Me.
Away away
From this horror I
Remember to not say.
*
Bear  11.29.2013
—————————————————————————–
WALKING IN THE AIR —  Jackie Evancho
—————————————————————————-
—————————————————————————-

Bitter Yellow Sorrow

***

***

***

Oh bitter yellow sorrow

Of pain and death and bile.

The Death Watch has begun.

In his Hundred Years of living

He never said “I’m sorry”.

I told him  “I forgive you”

I said “I thank you for

All you have done.”

But Papa* never said

“I’m sorry”

Never said “It was me,

I am the one.”

Not Papa. No, not my Papa.

In One Hundred Years

He never said “I’m sorry.”

And now the Death Watch

Has begun.

He lived a life of

Gentle kindness …

And deceitful nasty guile.

I am filled with a

Bitter yellow sorrow

Of pain and death and bile.

***

***

***

*Bear’s note:  Papa was my step-father