For a long time, we’ve thought about posting our poems on our journal. We’ve hesitated for a number of reasons. Sometimes there are poems written here by others inside spontaneously as part of free-flowing words and their words are poetic or seem to be similar to poems and in that fashion. Their styles are much different than the ones below. I believe that there are two different styles of writing below, but we have many other poems with other styles and stuff.
These poems are being shared now because they apply to the father specifically about our abuse by him. Perhaps after sharing these, we can tackle part three of what we’re trying to write.
Confusion
I see her
alone
in a room
at a small
pink table.
The laughing
children, “No
I’m not!
I want to play too!”
Her face expresses
the longing
of voicing
similar words
at home,
where silence
is her playmate.
She hears
an adult voice-
“You’re fat mother
is lazy. She can’t
do anything right.”
Looking up she sees
her mother
in the hall
walk by as he
tells her
“I love you darling.
Do what I say.”
Confusion crawls out
of her crayons
onto her picture
as disfigured
red people, without bodies,
only legs, some missing
hands, and straight
mouths with bulging
eyes.
Desperately trying to understand
what she must do
in order for her daddy
to love
her mommy.
Copyright, JAGA Harmony, May 4, 1993 (17 years old)
A Childhood Lost…
I feel as though my body
has been burned.
A door opens,
I’m standing in boiling water,
My heart is in flames.
A figure from Hell
seals the door.
His sharp flaming
hands reach out
and scorch my already charred body.
A scream shrills
inside my head
and travels to my toes-
My throat closes-
Containing the voice
inside me that screams
“NO!”
Frozen in silence
I separate
from my body-watching
Him abuse me.
Sitting upright on my bed
He behind me-
His fingers touching my skin;
I feel as though I’m
his object of lust.
Suddenly he pushes
me downward, his face
breathing of alcohol
and deceit. He brandishes
his kiss upon my lips-leaving
his mark on me for life.
I struggle to get away,
Tears stream down my face,
Just hoping he sees
the red light
of my heart he destroyed
with Fire.
Finally he ends
his selfish act,
Reminding me that good girls
keep secrets. Obediently I
assure him as guilt spreads
throughout my body
like a visible disease. He
slowly leaves my room,
smiles,
and seals
my door, my memory-
His power and control over me
Causing the event
To be forgotten.
And as time continues,
My life becomes
A bigger and stronger
Ferris Wheel.
Copyright, JAGA Harmony, February 7, 1993 (17 years old)
My Body-His Body
My feet scorched
by fiery fear
unable to run.
My legs paralyzed
from years of yanks
and struggles.
My thighs drowned
in his leper germs,
forever dead.
My privates scarcely
knowing the meaning
of private and sacred.
My stomach caved inward
from starvation
of non-abusive fatherly love.
My breasts bruised
and stained from sinful
hands and tainted kisses.
My hands crippled
by piercing threats
because they desired
to reach out for help.
My arms tied and twisted
in knots of agony
and anguish too wounded
to fly free.
My throat severed
from the first time,
that first cry out.
Invisible scars
containing shrilling screams
and No, DADDY, NO!
My face,
seemingly untouched,
is as broken
and shattered like
my mind.
For deep within,
and just under the surface,
the many faces
live their fate.
He helped create
my body,
and I was born.
He helped create
a body
I later learned I owned
by not just “me,” but
every alter personality
and fragmented, sliver piece of me.
Copyright, JAGA Harmony, September 18, 2000 (25 years old)