And in this war-zone, there is no instructive poem:
explaining what our human behavior should be like.
What our emotions and expressions should be modeled by.
We'll start with not to say things like 'kyke.' To start.
This should make you feel part of an elitist people, practically
practicing an art.You've made me so sour and tart.
So excruciated and sophisticated in my disdaining rage.
I can't wait to imagine another world, scrawled all out on a page.
We're not scared of "THEM" anymore-it's only each other and ourselves,
that we have to tiptoe and whisper around, wary of helter skelter pell-mells.
We should be done by now with cathecting their terrible treatment-
On to our own, avoiding escheatment. Creating our futures, our families.
Getting to live in the wake of our fantastic peace treaties. This is where we've
come to live and recover-not violate brother, sister and lover. That you've come
to make war on my childhood town: my memories assaulted, my agony triggered and found.
This is not a place for that kind of condescending phaecetion.
So phony, so inauthentic, I am in sudden excruciating recidivism.
Collapsing and descending into excruciating depression when you're near:
thirty years of reconstruction, and restitution, and resurrection instantaneously
flushed down the toilet I fear.
Once again, after all this time, cornering me into a traumatically fatal illness
of the most unpleasant and painful kind. Once again, after all my research and
mental work to put it behind me and understand, you come near and you've immediately
destroyed this sacred land.
No people from around here ever treated me with such judgmental abuse,
such condescending insult and so arrogantly obtuse. No people from around
here intentionally ever brought out the worst in me. But when you invade and
trigger solely my agony, it's just the consequences and influence of you that
I can feel, experience and see.
No people from around here ever treated me
with a superiority complex nor even snide condescending false sophistication-
showing off that they don't believe in God, thinking that's mature, and really
never being truly concerned for our nation.
No people from around here instill your evil nor your insult nor your causative fear nor ever treated me with that kind of correction and insensitivity.
At least let me with some childhood pride,
as when you are near, it is only Insult and Pure Violation I feel and I see.
You come near. Remind me to hide.
Dear Julia, the thoughts within are all that matter. A poem exploring how we feel when abusers are dominating those thoughts. The internal rhythmresounds loudly.
I hope the panic transcribes to rhythm and thunder- at least my fear and pain sublimated somehow for a moment. Thanks for reading and thank you for keen insight!
if you hide more guilt you show so come out in the open hammer those and see how relieved feel will LUBER JULIE THEE GOOD POETRY A bit longish
I can not 'hammer' as you call it at this person from my past who I thought I healed from now invading my childhood memories too in a place where Nobody ever treated me with the disrespect and insult that she did.
This is not exactly guilt- it's sullen rage, and sadly, it's true. I got VERY sick from seeing somebody from my past suddenly frequently in my neighborhood reminding me of all the terrible influence and effect she had on me in my past and how nobody ever abused me like her in my childhood neighborhood where people always treated me with respect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
No people from around here instill your evil nor your insult nor your causative fear nor ever treated me with that kind of correction and insensitivity........very candidly expressed! An excellent work......10