Honor

Honor

you are a thing best pressed flat beneath forgetful slats

do not appear and mock

my bare footed lack of

it wasn’t I who began

to defile myself nor

when they lined up and I nailed myself

it’s not always easy to tell

when the crime begot the criminal

or how the break is sometimes the very thing

you return to again and again

running your fingers down well-worn cracks

here fill it with gold, nay fill it with lead

somewhere on the metallurgic table of

elements

drown yourself with good intention

what is precious? what easily taken?

ladies are primroses, lasting just a season

bright like lipstick worn by a dowdy heart

seeking to alight in redemptive plait

weave yourself back into the story

i did not need to apply salve or solution

to garner night-time attention

it came before I knew its chiselled name

in the fingers and the undone buttons of

pain bottled by shaking hands

they swig their lurching tempers

they stomp their ashen parents

into dust for they are not much

more than living rust

growing barnacles and shame

by the wet pound

and I never knew

what it felt like to be proud

of my purity which hadn’t lasted into summer

nor the taint I grew to shape

into tempting cool drinks

sweating out the last of their

exposure under the scold

of impatient heat

that loss of

honor so definite

a mark on your brow

marring those who look

before ever you speak

a word of truth

none needed against

rude assume, leathery in

age, easier for the judge

to sear a girl for outlasting

their cored and pared

fruiting rage

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33 thoughts on “Honor

  1. What challenge may it be to learn, discover, experience an Honor that dwells, springs alive from within when all without demand and assert the right to define or defile according to their whim or need.

  2. If only characteristics of the appealing kind could be passed down from generation to generation… the ability to show honor would be one of them:

    “a word of truth

    none needed against

    rude assume, leathery in

    age, easier for the judge

    to sear a girl for outlasting

    their cored and pared

    fruiting rage”

    Sometimes, I have to sit with things a bit because the intensity of the lines summon a small spell of speechlessness.

  3. ”when they lined up and I nailed myself..”

    “..the break is sometimes the very thing
    you return to again and again”

    ..metallurgic table of
    elements

    “they are not much
    more than living rust
    growing barnacles and shame”

    I swim in these words, so intensely fertile, feverish, and symbolical.
    talk about shame…my poems seem elementary to this, like glorified fragments of self-
    exposure, whereas these here are more like beautifully decorated masks ..

    a martyr to the slaughter…

    pinned up like a butterfly under the dead gaze of the marveling crowd

    ..beautiful. bravo.

  4. I succumb to this!

    and…

    “..here fill it with gold, nay fill it with lead..:”

    okay then…

    Your cracks are filled with lead instead of gold,
    this heavy dread impossible to hold,
    bears us down into those broken places
    where fear replaces appetite
    where stars lose their bright fight
    against the sky’s encompassing blackness,
    where dawn raises her chalice to
    this foretelling malice,
    where we are abandoned by Midas,
    where our failure to thrive is beyond reason,
    like the bastard daughters of misfortune.

  5. GOOD GRIEF CHILDE you are on FIRE!!!!!!!!! I figure you could write a novel on a weekend right now if you wanted to! I love it when you are like this!!!!!!!! WRITE WRITE WRITE WRITE oh and when you write your novel let me read it first oh and when you write your second novel let me read it first oh and when you are famous and you see me in the street autograph my loyalty won’t ya?

  6. I am definitely TRYING that is about where I am. And it is far better than say last year that is for sure. I have a light at the end of the tunnel. Even Mighty thinks so. Thank you dearest girl

  7. I love this comment (so sorry for taking a while to get to it, I have not been feeling too well this weekend) thank you dearest one for your kindness and appreciation and support. You always encourage me and I hope I do the same as I totally believe in you

  8. Whoops, I’m sorry. I thought I was commenting on the post about BC and his recent trial. Ignore me and my recent comment on predators. I’m just a confused blogolator.

  9. Lol, you’re too sweet my friend. Much love! Sorry I’ve not been back in touch, you will hear from me soon 🙏❤️

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