An Ending of Sorts

An Ending of Sorts

Sylvia Plath would have been proud of these scars,

the deep incisive cuts that portray so much turmoil

within the soul of one, isolated, human being.

The pain of the victim screaming in red ribbons

flowing in banshee wails as rivers of blood.

The deep and angry cries which point the finger

away from the fragility of the self, the attempts,

the gas filled ovens, the responsibility for survival,

towards a more earthly blame.

Anne Sexton would relate to the words of my sad song

as I sink beneath the crow black waves of my own doom.

As I struggle to comprehend the cards dealt with such brutal cynicism,

and I don't even understand the rules I am destined to play out on this earth,

with its inequalities and hateful consequences.

And yet here I am meant to live.

 

09/08/16

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

it is the figurative suicide, the blood stained pages.

this is strong and interestingly enough you have mentioned the two women upon whom i did my masters thesis...two of my favorites...so dark and tortured, yet so complex and talented.


as are you my friend with this strongly put together write...

j.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

An amazing review from a scholar and master of the art. Thank you Jacob.

[andrew mitchell]

strong powerful verses yet again of a tortured soul not knowing its true path from being dealt a bad hand. sounds like life john for most.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Indeed Andrew. Many thanks.