Oppressed
Almost exactly 10 years ago, about a month before my first parole hearing, where I would be unceremoniously "flopped" (given six more years to await my second hearing), I wrote this poem, entitled "Oppressed." But it's not exclusive to that time and place. From Delyrium Ohio to Lhasa Tibet, it seems to fit. And from the beginning of the illusion of time to the end - and sprinkled everywhere in between - the drip, it would seem, goes on.
28 April 1998
11:10 a.m.
The mo
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n
d
r
i
c p
upon us
de
sc
en
di
ng unapprehending
like Ch
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n
e
s
e
w
a
t
e
TOrTURE
28 April 1998
11:10 a.m.
The mo
o
n
d
r
i
c p
upon us
de
sc
en
di
ng unapprehending
like Ch
i
n
e
s
e
w
a
t
e
TOrTURE
dripping in Michigan...
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Been there, felt that...just not behind 'visible' bars.
Hugs,
Suze
Enjoy those grandbabies...I'm jealous!
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...cool...very BEAT groovy drippy...
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I like this lots. Moon o'er mind.
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This blog posting got my forehead all wet!!! nice Job John, i feel you!!!
Peace out Munchie
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i'm tao-ed, ow-ed and wow-ed.
not puzzled by this puzzle.
this does not need to go the tailors.
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Cool as usual. I get this too... especially th Chinese water toture part...
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your 10 year old poem & its
The mo
o
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s
reminded me of this 35 year old pome from one of my younger mes:
The Validity of Relationships
Full moon
Dead
Moonlight drips
Drips down
Moistening
Dead realities
Dead reality
Dripping down
Motioning
Dead
Dead
Realities
Dread realty
The moon is moist in Autumn
Great, rotund.
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....H-O-W-L !!!!! dig it!
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ROMANCE DE LA LUNA LUNA by Garcia Lorca
La luna vino a la fragua
con su polisón de nardos
El niño la mira mira
El niño la está mirando
En el aire conmovido
mueve la luna sus brazos
y enseña lúbrica y pura
sus senos de duro estaño.
Huye luna, luna, luna.
Si vinieran los gitanos
harían con tu corazón
collares y anillos blancos.
Niño, déjame que baile.
Cuando vengan los gitanos,
te encontrarán sobre el yunque
con los ojillos cerrados
Huye luna, luna, luna,
que ya siento sus caballos.
Niño, déjame, no pises
mi blancor almidonado.
El jinete se acercaba
tocando el tambor del llano.
Dentro de la fragua el niño
tiene los ojos cerrados.
The moon comes to the gypsy forge and threatens the child, telling him that when the gypsies come they will find
him with his eyes closed. I do not translate this since it ruins the feeling of dancing in the white moonlight as death dealing. For Lorca the moon and whiteness is often associated with death in his poetry.
Your moon does the same thing, it drips down and tortures oppressively. I find this an interesting comparison.
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I can't imagine what you went through. WOW! An excellent poem.. Namaste'
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I love the poem. I love the way you arranged the words to emphasize the meaning. The passage of time can be so cruel. I wonder if you long to be vindicated, even though your family and friends know that you are innocent. Do you have a desire to be found not guilty in a Court of Law? The reason I ask is because when my parent's house burned down, I was a potential suspect. This is natural since I was the only one around that survived, and my mom and sons were the victims. I was interrogated. Those interrogators really know what they are doing. Less than 24 hours after the tragedy that changed my life forever, they came around asking questions. I was certainly not in any condition to answer questions. They asked me, "Don't you want to know what happened?" I was obviously being manipulated, but my desire for answers won out. The fire was ruled accidental, probably an electrical fire, but I have yet to get over the fact that I fell under suspicion at all. I am forever defending myself, to myself. Everyone else has moved on. I never will. It never occurred to me to blame anyone for what happened. In fact I told my Mom to please not blame herself, since she was babysitting at the time. My ex-husband blamed me simply for going to the grocery store and not taking my Mom and boys. As if I oculd have predicted what would happen. I never went to prison, I can't imagine how you survived that, but I cannot escape the feelings of guilt for something that in my logical mind I know was a freak accident that I never could have anticipated or predicted. I hope that you are free from the burden of being falsely accused. But in reality, i fear that it is going to haunt you. Thank God you are such a strong, intelligent person and that you are doing an amazing job making the best of a horrible miscarriage of justice.
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Hi Tara. Nobody should ever feel guilt for something they didn't do. If you want to know how I feel and how John feels about what happened to him check my blog and the comments on Atonement. He is definitely a strong and ontelligent person and a survivior, thank God, of a terrible miscarriage of justice.
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Elena, I am so glad that John has you for a friend. I'm sure that you recognize that he is not only a great person, but also a great teacher. It is a sin that he was made to pay for a crime that he did not commit and that he is still paying. He should be teaching at a university. But I applaud him for teaching us in this virtual universe. I get so much out of reading his work and your comments to him. You, Elena, are a wonderful person. You give encouragement and hope and you make up your own mind about what the truth is. I deeply admire that about you.
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Anniversaries take us places. Some good, some bad but they show us a past, not the present or future. Here's to wherever/whoever you want to be!
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Thanks, everybody!
I am grateful for your comments - and sorry I've been too busy and/or distracted to respond until now.
L'chaim!
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