in the final stage…

ficus2

bapa dola
said
hate and anger
are
like
ficus seeds
perhaps
embedded
at first
with righteousness
but
if not
removed
by hands
of forgiveness
in prayer
their roots
soon reach
down into
the very soil
of the soul
and
upward
into the canopy
of the mind
blocking
all light
of reason
in time
strangling all
that was
or
could be
leaving
only
a hollow core

hell hath…

he awoke
recalling
his knife
had been
on the nightstand
he had
no concerns
then
since
she was
weak
but now
his
hands and feet
were bound
to the bed
not hers
she stood
above him
fully dressed
and
smoking
as she walked
to the motel door
he could smell
a strong odor
of gasoline
and then
recalled
she
didn’t
usually
smoke

saved from evil…

waves of anger
crash against
the shores
of reason
as
the plaintiff
now
staring
into the eyes
of
the
accused
the
abused
who
for
so many years
was silent
never speaking
repressing
all emotions
but
now
in this courtroom
as the mad hatter
approaches the bench
to object
to
the truth
the single shot
plastic derringer
is tight against
the skin
like
this beast
was
so
many years
ago
and then
redemption

seeking revenge…

digital decoupage cwmartin

shadows
of
the dead
dance
within
your head
blocking the light
of the new day
leaving you
blind
to existence
so
your heart
lies
within your chest
as dry
and
hard
as
a desert rose

she who laughs last…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2011

he awoke
to find her
tracing the shape
of his face
ever so delicately
with
his knife
his hands
and feet
tied to the bed
that
he
had thrown
her into
just a few
beers ago
she moved
so differently
now
like the prey
that had become
the hunter
she didn’t
say a word
as she
dissected
his pride
but he
prayed
to a god
he
had forgotten