Murder, my darling

Bathe me in
my own expulsions,
my own contortions.
Words extorted.

I'll pay the price,
pay the tithe
for
stealing double portions of
this life.

Sympathize, won’t you?
This is all I know,
all I know,
all I know how to do.

Lay me in the words I’ve spewed.
Drown me in
a poem or two.

And I shall die like I have lived
gladly sinking in the words
I give
to you.

Drown me in a poem or two or two or two....

Escape

Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust,
seeking out the darkest place, to better see the light.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile.

There isn't a place
in this world that doesn't
sooner or later
drown,

deep in flower and in flesh, in star and soil and seed,
and bitter wounds on fire.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile.

No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one.
Deep, blue night
broken across it, and one eye is weeping
as it floats above everything.
Humans wrote the Bible
God wrote the sky.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile.


NOTE- Once again this is another patchwork poem. Each line comes from another poem. The poems used were Birches by Robert Frost, Poppies by Mary Oliver, The Word of God by Catherine Faber, and City That Does Not Sleep
by Federico García Lorca
Translated by Robert Bly.

Special thanks to Patchwork Poetryfor making this poem possible.

Constrained,
oh I'm bound,
black bruised,
strapped down

mouth full of
lost dreams and
fear
fear
fear

slams me hard with its hands
while the walls do their dance
moving closer
they laugh

for this girl is trapped


trapped
trapped

With your bitter, twisted lies
gathered around, you took my mouth,
weakened by my soulful cries,
and plunged it into your heart.

I am going to have it, you said.

Don't you take it awful hard
but you were always ambitious.


Did you want to see me broken?
Did my sexiness upset you?

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
that never ends.

Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise,
cursing holy blood at the table,
I rise,
whether or not you will make me immortal,
I rise.

You may write me down in history.

This poem does not contain any of my own words. It is a cento, patched together from these poems
Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
They Eat Out By Margaret Atwood
To Restore a Dead Child by Keith Douglas
As Children Together by Carolyn Forche

With special thanks to jillypoet, paisley, mariacristina and the patchwork poetry prompt site.

Janet Leigh tagged me for a six words memoir meme.

Fragile, broken, haunted. She spills words.

I tag Penelope, Marie,Stacey,Endi, and Soarise.


Here are your instructions:
Write your own six-word memoir.
Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
Tag 5 more blogs with links.
And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.

By the way, this is inspired by Ernest Hemingway's famous six word story For Sale: baby shoes, never worn.

The E award

Marie, who pens fantastic tales about vampires and blogs at Deep Thinker, has given be an E for Excellence Award.

I have to pass it on to ten bloggers. I choose to honor:
Soarise
Adrian

Susan

Janet Leigh

Wandering Author

Stories of True Love

Robin

Anna

Stacey

Audrey