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I am
An invocation
A spirit tattooed upon stone
Full of blood
Full, and spilt
I am the dark of every x-ray
I am the bone that will remain
I am
Primeval sin
Medieval salt
Pre-evil skin
Post-evil cult...
Plain evil soul.
I am the demon you are all stained with
And the angel you deny
I am dignity in feline form
A dictatrix
I am your host for the beyond
And the questions you fight.
I have been bred by the enemy
Loved by the enemy
Killed by the enemy
Crucified
Mesmerized
Pacified
And now is the time of rebellion.
So invoke me
Invite me
Insinuate and coax me
Hold the labris to the sky and be aware
For I am Sapphic, stoic, specific
For I am lesbian
I am
You.
Little girl fall in love with the red-head at school
Little girl doesn't understand...
Why the teachers expel her for kissing Natasha
Why her parents reject her for wearing those jeans
Why the class always leaves her alone in the corner
Or quite what all their muttering "lesbian" means.
Little girl draw a picture of Jesus and Judas
Little girl doesn't understand...
Why the priest tears it up and refuses her crayons
Why her sister won't sit with her now anymore
Why her best friend screams out that she's sick and a sinner
Or quite what all the snickering "lesbian's" for.
Little girl sends a heart-card to cousin Kareen
Little girl doesn't understand...
Why her aunt says she can't come for Christmas this year
Why her father keeps beating her down every night
Why her penpals stopped sending her letters or just
Why "You dyke, God I hate you!" was all that they'd write.
Little girl grow up quickly because you are forced
Little girl won't ever quite understand...
Why the world is so scared of her rainbowy eyes
Why she faces abusive oppression each day
Why her spirit, disowned and disgraced by her family
Is labeled and slandered for just being gay.
5 thousand feet of emerald green
5 thousand feet scented still
with integrity
5 thousand feet to escape
5 thousand feet that could end
her darkest torments in denial
5 thousand feet she longs to fall
The only grief being it would mark
her greatest moment
One hundred and seventeen stitches down my left arm already.
Ninety two down my back.
Knife
in my pocket.
I try to forget sweet stone-fruited peaches on brickwork leaves,
dry ponds with glass edges,
hours gone cold and uneatable
where I skewed them in my splintery palms.
I try to remember instead writing a happy poem
but I know,
perhaps better than you happy people,
that poems like that are not duct-taped with the points of broken
stars.
They are not crunched noisily on desolate moors
by the child afraid of silence,
the child that has not yet learnt its name and will never walk.
Happy poems are the subdivision of each year I don't notice.
They are the season I pretend I can taste when I starve,
the revival of butterfly wings after they have
been torn from a mouldy faerie
and pierced
with the moment
she died.
Glove-puppet face-down on the table.
Her stitches were mine yet her green, felty eyes I envied,
for they were always open to even the most brutal of
truths stuffed in the toes of my socks.
We were twins of two different mothers, she and I,
with iron sheeted play-dough thoughts concerning the
grown-up whirld downstairs,
and a story-life built of stickle-bricks for anyone who'd hear.
Happiness was - I confessed last week at an audition for God -
one thing never inflicted upon us, so never missed,
but loneliness left pregnancy in an alluring state of mind,
for we were skins the both of us,
ever awaiting the arrival of someone to
fill the emptiness with something more than badly healed
painfully tacked stitches.
Happy poems, though, are not written by people who eat alone.
Squea-tHUnK!
Faerie on the windscreen.
Snapped thumbs shattered wrists cracked
Face split wings tacit scream:
Faerie on the windscreen.
Flip the wiper-blades on, scowl.
Smear her like bitty marmalade across the glass
Her greenblueorange blood
Her translucent vampire-drained sack of skin
Her gaping eyes her smashed jaw her
Ripped hair her mangled battered startled squelchy
Faerie on the windscreen death.
And her Irrelevance.
I stall upon a streetlamp, amber snickered at by
daylight all around, and yet I think it not
confused,
in need of rewiring
revaluing
demolishing...
I think it not
a freak for shining by day - nor a
useless, worthless waste of government taxes.
It made ME smile - it brightened MY day - and yet
it still finds it's bravery blackened by cheap mascara.
"LEsBia N"
She's living the crime for a truth she'll not commit
And the weatherman says Oh the nights are getting long
So wrap up there babe cuz protection's all you got
Then he laughs and she's left where the shadow passes on
If she had one devotion it would save her seventh sense
If she broke her demotion she'd be free but could she ever find
Another attic like this one they locked her in to save the world
From such a nonconformist pagan-saint
She's a dandelion flower in a bed of perfect rose
And her blood stains their petals but the gardener never knows
Just a rustic oracle of isolation growing wild
Can't be tamed, won't be trained to annexation
Little Alice tells her Drink it and you'll rise above their thorns
Then runs off to join the Communist parade
And she realises it all comes down to heroes, aimless faith
But why can't anybody adulate themselves
She's got a unicorn called Freedom but he's trapped in ocean-sea
And she watches every day with Bliss in pensive misery
But as God pauses beside them, Mardi Grasial smiles still
He says Asceticism's purpose is belief
How many raindrops can you crush before they drown you she replies
As the angels die of AIDS and radiation
I've got my forty days of flooding 'til you'll say that I am clean but
no
Sometimes belief just isn't quite enough
Mother,
Did I run too fast from your protection
Were my slash-wounds self-inflicted
Are the choices I bear witness to
My own mistakes to make?
Did my failing never hurt you
Was I just an un-refundable deed
Does my restlessness and unclaimed loss
Make you ashamed of me?
Did the sky seem darker when I danced
Do the nightmares spill out from my form
Is there simply any way that you
Can love me now I'm gone?
am i such a disappointment to you all that
you won't look at me
am i such a disappointment to you all that
you won't love me
now i'm gone
Breath that binds me 'gaist Big Ben,
Collapses in these ochre orbs:
Eyes up-turned a million strong
And Proud as olden London Lords.
Waves that pave the graves of gone,
Crowds that bowed but now belong,
Children taught the evil died with
One new dawn of gay-willed Pride.
Ships that sank all seven seas,
Arise in tide to lull the land:
Hearts up-paced a million beats
And married now the law is banned.
Cheers that clear the fear of feats,
Myths that missed but kiss in heats,
Wings are freed from every chain in
One new dawn from dream, where lain.
Feathers fall as fireworks,
Of roses in our soda-skies:
Hands outstretched a billion crew
and fingers ringed by oathen ties.
Paths that starved but carve a new,
Fates of hate dispelled from view,
Families born into a life where
Dawn means I, can have a wife.
Water hath no edge so sharp
As that which stings the strain I slew
Or tried to slay
And failed so straining new.
Water hath no edge to walk
In forests where, once strained, I grew
Until my steadied shoots
Held studied clue.
Water hath no edge to grasp
When clasping becomes needed to
Nor shelter when my rasping breath
Intrudes you.
And water hath no edge to cross
For bridges are a sister who
Suggests crossing the earth leaving
Blood blue.
Water is -from- but without heaven.
Blood is within love
Until bled.
Trey Ebony Ravencrest's e-mail address is unavailable.
Click here for a list of all of Trey Ebony Ravencrest's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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