Death's Backdoor

Dedicated to my dear friend RIP x

We hide away in safe little alcoves

     hoping that no one will see

the shame imprinted in blood

   soul screaming out in affliction

heartbeats skip in shades of braille

   washed away by tides of grief

tucked in lace hankies of apprehension

   inklings of grey conceptions leak

spun dry in the machine made by man

markings can't be erased in a cycle

  for a legacy of lies, darkened by secrets

scars run deeper than earthy crust

   dark moons passed over in the light

    truth obstructed at death's backdoor

Author's Note

Reviews

[Kristin Lee]

I love this one. It is so tragically beautiful. The pain is seering. That place where we hide on the brink of madness to cover our shame from those we love...to call it deaths back door...very creative, and very true. It's almost as if death beckons to us in those moments of wekness. Those moments of human vulnerability. And this song that you've chosen is so haunting! I absoutely love it. It's going into my stock pile of writing music. Truly gave me goose bumps. Well done.

[Frieda P]

Brink of madness, so apropos right about now, thanks for your words here Kristin, muchly appreciated.

[Sami Khalil]

A powerful read and write done with a masterful pen of poetry...:)

[Frieda P]

Thanks so much Sami.

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)

[Emerald Seas]

Sweetie, all these sad poems make me want to reach out and give you a hug. So full of sorrow and mourning the loss. Your writing is such a gift of talent and expression. Thinking of you and know we care for you here! Hugs!

[Frieda P]

This was like a hug on my page dear Sera, thanks so much for being you.

[s y e]

This was a sad emotional write, from the date you published it and your dedication it's a fresh wound, like what Rita said. You have some good lines, well done.

[Frieda P]

Thanks Sye, very fresh, if you'd stick around, you'd be in the loop my sweet noodle, come back!

[s y e]

My pleasure.

[Frieda P]

♥

[s y e]

❤❤

[Rita L. Sev]

Frieda, seeing your dedication and reading this poem, I get the feeling that this is a fresh wound of grief. I am so sorry for your loss.

This piece speaks in shuddering sobs, and angry shouts. "We hide away in safe little alcoves, hoping that no one will see..." Everyone hides - victims and violators, abusers and the abused... and it keeps going. I pray for a world of no more hiding, no need to be ashamed and hurt in silence.

I pray for you too, Frieda. Peace in your heart.

[Frieda P]

Your words touched my heart Rita, thank you.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

OK you shake out of it! Another heartfelt, write in brutal metaphors. Time for some dancing. Death comes to us all if we wait long enough and often it is not long enough!

[Frieda P]

You leave me to my grief John, sometimes death comes before it's time, and that's not an easy thing to comprehend, much less accept.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

But at some stage Frieda we move on. It is liberating. Karina has done so and it has changed her perspective on suffering and the power she has over her destiny and that she will never let anyone hurt her and keep doing it through the dark memories.

[Frieda P]

New wounds bring up old hurts and pain John...perhaps Karina needs to write an instructional book on how-to...

[John Alexander McFadyen]

I have tried to persuade her; she is just such a resillient woman who is humble and who never stops seeing the good in people, even those who hurt her.

[Frieda P]

Well, I could hardly go there, I'm not one to forgive easily, there are some people where good never dwells, never will John, she's a gem alright that woman of yours.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Th esecret dear Frieda is not to continue to be their victim. You can choose to see them for what they are but while you let them continue their abuse they win you lose.

[Frieda P]

*sigh*

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Make it a 'sigh' of truth. You have the ability to choose. Karina has and it makes her such a special woman. Not a survivor. Someone who has taken control and dismissed the twisted man who abused her. She chopped his f*****g piano up with an axe right in front of him and told him if she ever heard of him doing it to anyone else she would use it on him. You can't do that but you can in your head.

[Frieda P]

Ha, now that must have been some release, he doesn't have a piano, can I use body parts?

[John Alexander McFadyen]

No because you would end up in the penitentiary. The trick is not to keep being the hurt party and to say 'F**k you' I will not let what you did rule my existence on this earth.

[Frieda P]

It's easy to say the words, living it is a totally difficult concept.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

That dear Frieda is all in the cognitive process. Those who advise themselves they are victims stay that way. It IS a choice. You have to use the power of cognition to escape. You are highly intellegent woman, you understand this. You just have to do it!

[Frieda P]

I think I'm pretty much defective in my way of thinking when it comes to that, it's all by rote, just comes naturally, like a reflex.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

You can break free though Frieda. Karina did!

[Frieda P]

If I shove homemade pizza in your mouth will you shut up? ;-)

[TL Boehm]

The ache is palpable in this piece. I have such respect and admiration for you that you can articulate such pain. I have championed strangers and children in my work - with varying success - but those who I know intimately - I fall apart. I just can't say what needs to be said. If you can, the healing can begin. The change can be facilitated. To remain silent - is failure and loss for everyone. This is a gut punching - hard poem to read. But I get the feeling - it needed to be read.

[Frieda P]

Thanks TL, glad you can appreciate my darkly mood here.

[eglantine]

"the shame imprinted by blood" is just one of the wonderful lines in this poem. The structure works--reminds me of an old, heavy wooden door with the nails. Thanks for sharing.

[Frieda P]

That's about what it feels like too eglantine, thank you.

[Ken Simm.]

I saw this. I saw the sadness and the feeling of waste. Specifically, I don't know what it is about but I can still see the pain and how you have cauterised your loss with words. I want to write something adequate but I am unsure what. Whatever is written cannot be adequate, can not be more true than what you have written here. Cannot come even close. So this review is meant as far as I can as solidarity. As friendship. As empathy insofar as I can.
Ken.

[Frieda P]

Thank you from my heart Ken, there are no words, anyone that has lost someone knows that to be true, especially in the case of a senseless death.

[kublakhan27]

I'm so glad you've featured this piece cuz I may have very well missed it otherwise, which would have been a shame...I feel this one...I know just how you feel and you know that...my eyes grow increasingly damper with each successive reading of this...it is touching, it hits home, and it's an incredible poem xo

[Frieda P]

I knew you'd feel this one Steve, we share this grief at this moment, muchly appreciate your sentiments and support always. xo

[kublakhan27]

Yes, we are all too familiar with this state of mind...and I value the same things from you xo