Crucified, Myself

for Eve's Ribs

Crucified, Myself

i crucified myself with all the other

urban divas, who'd only know of a Mary

w***e, she pocketed gold coins with a flip of sunshine

or was it a chocolate river?

and i crave the right to decorate my breasts in pearls

white, like the other, who'd never had needed such commodity

(did she ever pocket a golden coin at all?)

i crucified myself and find myself looking down at men

and girls who'd strike me, pulling flesh from my wounds

spitting salted stares at my sins

and i ask myself: do they not know what they cannot do?

i've already crucified myself! i drink of sweetened let --

vampires suck rawness bought of risk --

how will i ever get down? and, will they care?

she, a Mary, whose face leers naked: has she to know

i've crucified myself and envy her right, perceived,

to wear pearls. (oh...how they tumble!) i chuckle and let...

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

An almost slacking quality drives the reader to fulfill the poem at hand, a melodiousness and sombre prose, well done

[Lorraine]

You've effectively transformed such a sacred term into a mundane one. I find your poem a powerful piece with a really fickle character. There are instances when the persona sounded righteous, but there are also times when her tone was of mockery and envy. Those are interesting contradictions.

Keep Writing. ^___^

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

breathtaking imagery!!!~ from the raw to the subtle~ each sleek across each line is exquisite!!~