Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
Sold my soul for union –
destruction built-in
Narcissism is a bastard
luxuriates in self-catering
Did not anticipate loss –
innocence slaughtered
Force to grow sensibility
don a tough shell –
Would not let betrayal
call me by name.
It was not meandering
that shredded my heart
but the loss of a child
caught in the crossfire
too young to discern
parental alienation.
(Image from personal collection.)
Of course she is away
caught in the schism
of her parents’ divorce
played like a pawn
She is emotionally numb
incapable of articulating
wants and desires – broken
though no one notices.
(Poem originally appeared on Twitter. Visit me @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
Married addiction
adopted denial
settled for basics
Espoused spirituality
ignored infidelity,
pulled down the blinds.
Believed compassion
could compensate
for indifference.
Limited my outlook
to windows, too insecure
to de-smudge the pane.
Missed the gaping doorways,
the blatant rudeness
of belligerent disrespect
Till withdrawal prompted
accountability, commanded
ownership, changed the lock.
(Image from personal collection.)
Absence fills the silence
with shadowy wings
becomes a raven
sharp-taloned,
razor-beaked
I cower
loss too
immense
for comprehension
would lay my body down
be consumed, but for
the children’e eyes pinning me
their woeful gazes,
begging to be uplifted
I am abandoned
and not
a flicker
called to be
beacon.
(Art from personal collection)
In darkened room
I lie, willing blackness
to obliterate blackness.
A scream, unearthed
from dankness
shatters the silence,
echoes off heartless walls,
shock waves reverberate
relentless torment
seventeen years…
committed, no…
dedicated
ripped away
leaving me
nothing
I fall, spiral
reel out of control
breaking down
tomorrow,
the children will return
the house will fill again,
and I will pick up
these shards,
piece together
some semblance
of normalcy,
and begin
to rebuild
in the dark.
(Written for dVerse pub, where Lillian is hosting with a challenge to focus on time: “To everything there is a season…”)
Winter came early –
seeped into intimate
corners, froze hearts.
Walls papered white,
intending cheer, only
accented bitter cold.
Layers of submission,
hope, denial, ineffectual
in refueling the warmth.
She followed him down
the unavoidable slope
deep into the abyss.
Chilled, shaken she
braced for the arduous
trek ahead, injected
lightness into an
impossible situation,
committed, unaware
that he’d moved on,
abandoned her with his
customary indifference.
Years later, thawed
by the warmth of solitude
she reflected, wondered
how the blatancy of his
oddities has escaped her –
his fixation on antiquated
ideals, how he furnished
her mind with incoherencies,
collected things, not values.
She had merely been
an observer in his life,
yet it had escaped her
that it was the fiery
summer of her soul,
that had melted his ice
her scorching, all –
embracing passion
that had united them
and, as in all things
seasonally inevitable,
their love would die.
(Seasons Of Love originally appeared in February 2016.)
mind regresses
in the aftershock –
tremors of misspent
devotion reverberate
suffocating debris
teenage hearts
caught in the quake –
a marital schism –
plucked unripe
sweetness battered
I, colourless
abandoned, like
a runner-up in
a beauty pageant
forgotten, flailed
failed as a mother
withdrawn, rattled
psyche exploding
survival a slow crawl
challenges weighty
aligned my burden
with that of another
six adolescents, and
a bi-polar man looking
for female direction
craved the laughter
of children, the sanity
of structures unbroken
dust of the aftermath
clouding sensibility
anarchy rejoices
at lack of clarity
loss of control, dreams
of bliss have no home
when depression rules
retrace steps –
ponder the road
that led to destruction
search for light before
darkness took possession
found a trail of
foundations lacking
fortitude, wrought
with cracks, underlying
angst threatening
the earthquake, I see
as inevitability –
my landscape strewn
with fault lines
corrupt under stress
drama follows the weak
an internal compression
and shifting, uncontainable
wildness – destined to
destroy – breakthrough
(Image: dictionary.reference.com)
