Judge, Jury, Executioner
I stand up for the trial
The jury grinning, collective fox
A dozen minds made up at once
It takes each ounce of strength I've got
To not scream guilty.
This is not a mock court, a kangaroo court
This is not injustice, but justice fast tracked
To appease and soothe the masses.
A malaise of indignation, “She asked for it!”
And: “You can always tell
By her looks her dress
Her bold eyes her air
She thinks for herself, of herself,
Is that fair when all our unity
Our beliefs are at stake?”
Unfriendly looks, in no one’s good books,
I’m addicted to your approval on a hook,
That reels me in, choking on raw fleshed
Breath, anchoring my slave-hood.
From my sea of benign dreams.
“Insano...femme” ...Cries of destructive fury
Directed at my soul your verdict has its toll
My eyes too bold, blazing rage
Brittle brilliance of tears unshed
Frozen in fright at the edges
I can feel my inner frame shaking
My grief alone, I carry home.
That alone I own, I go home.
To play with my little kids
Little laughter peals of innocents,
Unaware of any looming trepidation,
My deeper bass of turgid doom, a death knell
Oh, how to flee hell! How to live well.
My sacred space has been invaded
I am scared of being torn
Apart from them.
Susceptible to your profane judgement
I show you up, my trembly lips hurt
Sometimes I hurl verbal abuse for mental misuse
Yet I long to play nice, play fair,
Tend to my dollhouse and care.
You would never know
Why she smiles so...
As if the whole world is her lover
Simple depths of immense longing
Guarded zealously, only a harlot
Or zealot of love's conflagration
Would understand this heat.
This defeat.
And tender innocent ones, will never know
Why caressing them, swimming in their
Free and generous immeasurable love
Alone begets her tears.
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© Amrita Valan 2014
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