Thursday, May 8, 2014

random






this is not for me - this god
not its heaven or
its majesty - it is not for me

this art thou
altered throw backs of surplus
word

look! you carry a cracked window on your shoulder
a thread tight
around your neck - pull it

i say, the chimes call
beneath the song of gulls
the birthing of girls

some vines cling, i shall
not cling
who calls my soul - who?

i wrap, case
i transfigure random thought

hold up
the pomegranate
blood
hold -  sip from the vessel grail

do it
Do it!  you say

No - cut me!  this flesh is not for me...
Just cut me! see, See
i too bleed

i bleed - i bleed - i
am girl, I Am a woman

I Bleed


bkmackenzie
copyrighted


For Magpie Tales and d'Verse

22 comments:

  1. def that last bit packs a punch,
    from just cut me...i could not look away.

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    1. Thanks Brian... So glad you liked it... bkm

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  2. Goodness, I am blown away ~ Terrific voice & imagery at the end is terrific ~

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    1. Thank you Grace it truly means a lot your comments...bkm

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    1. Thank you for reading and commenting...bkm

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  4. This is terrific.. the bleeding and the cracked window on your shoulder... great write...

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    1. Thank you very much for your comments...bkm

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  5. I like the bold pronunciation "i shall / not cling"...I can hear so many voices in every part of the world uttering "i bleed - i bleed - i
    am girl, I Am a woman

    I Bleed"...a powerful write...

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    1. Thank you it means a lot your words and appreciation...bkm

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  6. oh heck that last bit made me hold my breath...

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  7. Thank you Claudia. I guess I am getting sick of girls and woman being subject to slavery in an unforgiving world...and it goes on and on...bkm

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    1. And believe me I am far from a feminist

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  8. Oh my god.. my skin was tingling, I was holding my breath as I neared the end.. I just loved this.. such a powerful write... amazingly done.. very beautiful...

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  9. Very strong poem. We, women of the western world, often forget how lucky we are.

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  10. As postchristian, I see that all the failing and wounds are in the center and the vitality, the spirit and source, streaming in now from the excluded and outcast. Things turn over; that which was gospel is now tyranny; heretics become saints and women become popes of an undaunted spirit that shines on through it all. Very well done here, the title and poetic and making all suggest that only scattered pieces truly sing.

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  11. Powerful write. And how the flesh is cut away - and not so far away as we think.
    Anna :o]

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  12. A couragious and wonderful write Bkm!!

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