xii; the hanged woman.

By Feral

reaper.. ... .
I am naked in the face of you.

a savage grace was born within
when you salt.rushed my fields with your desire,
cut my hair and hung it upon your trophy-wall
as a strangled, scarlet sin. 


I still fear your moist hostility:
that scythe held to my throat.

Your slithering malicious gaze followed me... ...
 ..painted my body with cigarette burns and ashes
as I stripped for bathing and failed to scream.

I grieve for the severed shadow that abandoned me
in this gravekeeper's world.
here, the emaciated spirits laugh at me
still, so shamed.
..benuded, bald..
.a Creatrix stumbling on broken, coltish legs,
barren and besmirched...
. ..weeping hymeneal blood.



i am the Hanged Woman.. ... .. lashed by memory
to the storm tree,
tau-crossed in pittura infamante.


My mouth, gashed into a scream that never comes. ..
the only language I knew then was borne of urine
stained starvation............... ....
the only language I know now is thunder.






 

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© 2014 Alexis Helms
Published on Monday, December 12, 2016.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "xii; the hanged woman."

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  • Cassette On Thursday, December 28, 2017, Cassette (1251)By person wrote:

    I know why you are a legend, but that doesn't stop this from taking my breath away.

  • Tonights Decision On Sunday, August 18, 2013, Tonights Decision (141)By person wrote:

    "we are the storm, i still i believe we are the.. storm" it felt like the ribcage was a underwater cave , and your heart was thunder .. looming over these rows of neatly row-houses where we sleepwalk. every time you write its like stirring the wilderness in my backyard, awakening the wilderness in my chest.

  • TheProphetUntold On Monday, August 12, 2013, TheProphetUntold (163)By person wrote:

    You write so rarely, and when you do rarely is there anything that compares. You ferment your craft and distill it so exceptionally that only a taste is intoxicating. Awesome feel and image to this, I really feel like how you've developed in the past couple years. Always worth the time to read and more. Awesome. +tpu+

  • A former member wrote: Love it. Dark and beautiful..keep em coming.

  • Gothchic On Saturday, August 10, 2013, Gothchic (44)By person wrote:

    For some reason this brought a sad tear to my eye. The depth of thought married with vivid imagination brings such life to it that I feel like I am watching the poem instead of reading it. This is deep... lovely piece.

  • A former member wrote: I agree in totale with my Brother. So rare you speak words in place of images, yet when you do it is truly the sound of thunder; a tortured, screaming maw that stands behind blue eyes awaiting the scream~never~uttered. Yet, by speaking this out you allow it to be heard, allow it to have voice and reason and purpose...so full of purpose, this, like a winter's cold that I froze in long ago with icicles for eyes and one single inch in which the blue heart can continue to beat against the solidity of its chipping wall...and it is...chipping...and will continue to do so until the ocean crashes in. Sterk, Søster Mine, smerte er nei alltid.

  • xZombie Poptartzx On Tuesday, July 30, 2013, xZombie Poptartzx (500)By person wrote:

    Beautiful and dark ♥ 'mouth gashed into a scream that never comes - the only language I knew then was borne of urine stained starvation............... .... the only language I know now is thunder." that last stanza....perfect. xoxo

  • FadedBlues On Tuesday, July 30, 2013, FadedBlues (2978)By person wrote:

    ...this is an extraordinary conception. feeling the dynamic & hearing the thunder. & the savage grace as you spoke it...

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