karma story
There is more to it than just your alcoholic cavalier,
his messing up of his own life and yours therewith,
the bleeding wounds that can't be cured as a result
and the tremendous instability, both practical and mental,
in which you find your wrecked life as a consequence;
and in this fatefully amassing mess you meet with me,
who only formerly has had as lovéd ladies
talented artistic beauties with an alcoholic burden for a cavalier,
whom none of them were ever able to let go.
My first love had for her first love a wild drug addict,
while the father of her child became a periodic alcoholic,
making a complete mess of her life.
My second found me to escape from widowhood
but told me nothing of two former lovers,
both completely irresponsible and violent,
who never let her go and with whom she made constant suicide attempts.
My third had been forever marked by her beloved alcoholic husband
with a wound that had been cut around her breast
and sewn with many stitches, which had cut her soul in twain.
In each of these three cases, they would never free themselves
of all those wounds inflicted by their husbands,
which cut more deep into their souls than in their hearts,
since they could never cease to care for them.
I ask you: Was it right? Did they deserve their fates,
to suffer from their men atrociously for nothing?
No, their failure to detach themselves from all those wounds
became a self-inflicted punishment for nothing.
Love must never be a punishment but a reward.
If I can change your punishment to a reward, please let me.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 806 times
Written on 2006-08-28 at 12:39
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113. The Trauma
There is more to it than just your alcoholic cavalier,
his messing up of his own life and yours therewith,
the bleeding wounds that can't be cured as a result
and the tremendous instability, both practical and mental,
in which you find your wrecked life as a consequence;
and in this fatefully amassing mess you meet with me,
who only formerly has had as lovéd ladies
talented artistic beauties with an alcoholic burden for a cavalier,
whom none of them were ever able to let go.
My first love had for her first love a wild drug addict,
while the father of her child became a periodic alcoholic,
making a complete mess of her life.
My second found me to escape from widowhood
but told me nothing of two former lovers,
both completely irresponsible and violent,
who never let her go and with whom she made constant suicide attempts.
My third had been forever marked by her beloved alcoholic husband
with a wound that had been cut around her breast
and sewn with many stitches, which had cut her soul in twain.
In each of these three cases, they would never free themselves
of all those wounds inflicted by their husbands,
which cut more deep into their souls than in their hearts,
since they could never cease to care for them.
I ask you: Was it right? Did they deserve their fates,
to suffer from their men atrociously for nothing?
No, their failure to detach themselves from all those wounds
became a self-inflicted punishment for nothing.
Love must never be a punishment but a reward.
If I can change your punishment to a reward, please let me.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 806 times
Written on 2006-08-28 at 12:39
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text