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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:10:03 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 151552
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => To Make A Sculpture
[time] => 2009-07-17 21:09:48
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I cursed you again yesterday Let it fly from my mouth like treason I thought I was going to burst in to flames Shrivel, wither, to dust All I have ever longed for Dangles before me and plummets into nothingness God I hate you I was grinding my teeth and seething Can I have but one thing good? You waited and didn't speak Knowing I would not listen to you I would not hear you I was cold and locked up in myself I hate you God I hate you I hate you This world makes me sick You're not an artist you're a masochist You're twisted to mold such beings I hate you I let it fall like rocks unto my fragile bones And listened calmy as they broke Shattered, scattered I hate you God Or maybe I hate me Loathing gripped my soul Quivered with honest intent to end it all Desperate for some control Even still I knew I knew that I could cease to breath And you, the all powerful one, would breath for me Why? Can't I have anything? I am trapped, helpless, consumed and overwrought I hate me I hate me I am tired of this life of agony Watching misery after tragedy Flowing grief like fountains of ash Choking on the tears and pity I have fought this battle so long The battle of self-loathing Until recently I was beginning to see triumph In the distance I was beginning to see victory NOTHING It all hollows into nothingness Falls before me, flat, raw Dead... I was mourning for myself Standing heavy with self-pity You screamed to me "Snap out of it!" How dare you You waited to speak all this time Held your tongue and now you're screaming? "I created you to be more than this, this mess of a woman. Rise up, accept it, I have told you before and time again that you are NOT in control." "I want to be! I hate you! Help me?" "The only, absolute, only thing in your life that you can control is who you become. I do not like this mess before me, it is not indicative of who I created you to be. Remember yourself, as you fall into the throes of your self-pity you drag my name with you, you drag me through the muck in your soul." "I don't want to think about who I am becoming, I just want to give up, I want to be done. Let me be done." "No." "Agh I hate you! You're merciless!" "Don't challenge my mercy, you have seen but a glimpse of what I have extended before you. You cannot begin to know what I have in store for you and when and where my mercies will rain down on you. You speak too quickly of what you know nothing." "Stop. Stop correcting me, stop it. Stop chastening me! Why can't you say these things to someone else?!" "I do." "No. I have had a life of misery, and am looking at a continuance of it! I want out. I don't want to become who you created me to be it's too hard it costs too much. I'm sick of you." "I know you, I sat with your spirit and breathed into it possibility, then I turned it over to you and sent out the homing beacon until you returned to me. I sent my own Spirit to dwell in yours and am with you through every tinge of sadness and triumph and joy. I am with and I am good. Can you not have but one thing good? You have my Spirit, you have my mercy, courage, strength and compassion, you have my favor woman of grief." "What do I do with all this mess then? Where do I bury it? Can't you help me hide it so I can forget?" "I want you to make a sculpture." "I'm not Noah." "I want you to make a sculpture with all this mess, you are an artist and I want you to create beauty and righteousness from filth and grief." "I can't. Can you help me?" "I can help you become your art, my art, you." "What will the scuplture be?" "Woman of courage, tenacity, compassion, conviction, righteous anger, woman of testament." I let the words sink in Weighted with the cost of living Enduring, overcoming The thought trickled down my spirit Roused the sleeping strength I put one foot angrily in front of the other Who will I become? What will this sculpture look like when God's hand makes my mess beautiful? I am filth overwrought with misery and grief. "Hey God, can you help me?" [comments] => 2 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 75 [informant] => weepingprophet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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