The Malice Of Her Heart's Content~

~hmmm~

Sometimes we pick our own killers

there is something beautiful and sublime

in being able to define your own death;

Sylvia said

"dying is an art, I do it very well"

but she didn't know the half of it

so she came back

in a bottle of dreams

a genie for a man's madness

a balm of oxidized distress

for the thorn, the daughter

in his side. . . .

by her grave he knelt

a rose detached

spread between the pages of Belle Jar

he took it home

dried it

ground it

mixed it in a mortar with cream

his fingers dipped

spread the soul

across these lips

and really

what's an infant to do

confronted with such bittersweetness

 

I died inside the womb. . . .

I died against the metal edge of the swing

that had no boundaries

and tossed me to the sky

in a wicked game

of catch the bloody girl . . . .

I died in a bed of violets

in a rain of butterflies

while Pan wept amidst brambles

and cleaned the mud out of my hair when all was bled and done . . . .

I died of fevers

fluids tracing warm liquids the length of spine . . . .

I died on a surgeon's table

his scalpel in my soul . . . .

dying is an art

I do it better than any other

but picking your killer

is a masterpiece

so come and get me

I'll meet you on shore

where the sand is soft

and secrets stay buried

and lovers gaze across the waves to the lights of Atlantic City;

the malice of my heart's content

couldn't be made any clearer

I am drawing you a map

in the direction of my tilted smile

 

Sometimes we pick our own killers

but at the pinpoint of wounds

with no take backs

our clever monster unsheaths

and turns the predator

into prey

 

He picked me as his killer

what a load of f***ery

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

Reviews

[OT]

it's just stunning - your ability to craft images and stories - indeed Plath may have been good at dying - but you're good at painting it - sculpting it - brilliant poetry!! and to produce fantastic poetry time after time is just a testament to your skills!! bravo!! I love - "I died in a bed of violets
in a rain of butterflies
while Pan wept amidst brambles
and cleaned the mud out of my hair when all was bled and done . . . ." - nice!!!!

[Lachenille Papillion]

Sylvia's blood has long since dried, leaving it's indelible stain upon your soul eternal, but you have surpassed the reach of her visions with the melding of your own trials, both in reality and of the literary realm. As an artist, you have separated yourself from the measuring sticks against which you've grown. As a woman, every shadow that you have placed behind you and written upon your creative walls has made you a formidable creature of unique enchantments and insurmountable will and courage. You define and redefine 'WOMAN' every day!

[SpokenWord]

My first reading of this poem I thought how wonderful it was, like always your pen strokes are divine with the stories and images you paint with words in our mind. I often read comments left on poems and in doing so with this one a few people said Plath and I didn't know what that meant so I looked it up. After doing so I know see this poem beyond the beauty of your pen strokes as to its meaning it is a master piece. I understand the last lines of this poem more clearly and I see the true power of this write. Awesome awesome always amazed by what you give to us.

[David W Moore III]

Holy cr@p! Sorry for the expletive, but the emphasis was warranted. You've been holding back (and that's saying something!) not just in sheer numbers of recent posts, but good lord, you swung the sword on this one with not just precision, but with level of conviction that s'mores all of us in it's path. Talk about gut check. My favorite measuring stick of good poetry is, 'does it make me feel something, anything, good or bad?' does this one? Check. Check. Frigging check! Sublime. This may be my current fav of yours (until your next one!). The depth of your past ignites the bonfires of the present, giving something good back in exchange. You are a phenomenal person and a poet extraordinare.

[Liza]

so much death yet this felt like a rebirth

[Matthew Smith]

I absolutely loved your Plath references. That and the quote--it really put the rest of the write into perspective. Indeed, "dying is an art", but weaving words like this poem...that's art, too.

[.]

love the tone of this..a woman is control of her destiny..this is probably one of my favorites of yours..not a single wasted word, its a powerful testimony sung like only a poetess can do..

[Cafe Reader]

Our Ninja Girl shows her blade! When you take a chunk out of someone you sure do know how to do it with poetic grace! We're applauding here!

[.]

"dying is an art, I do it very well"
~ahh~my motto & my plan sweetest~
-if only-never soon enough???(it seems)
(genius as always Selene!!!)

james

[FireWoman]

There is total power in a woman that can accept her fate(s) and still dance among the snakes. You drop the veils seductively with mind bending ease, which is proof you know the perspective of the killer and the slain.
You've got a helluva a story that most would shutter to read, not to mention breathe~