I have met Bathsheba.
The music has fallen from my lipsAnd I have been sucked dry.
My soul is a rotted husk
Naked before me.
I have danced this step before,
But even if the poison has left
The hurt freezes me.
I have met Bathsheba
And the weight has fallen from my limbs
Like so much consequence.
The pain is new in every moment;
In every love.
Bathsheba is every woman
And every man
Who has felt heaven's drag.
The psalmist is every singer
Who has lost and suffered.
I have met her.
I would meet her again
Despite the withering cost.
29 January 2007
Comment from the original post on OKCupid:
ReplyDeleteWitchzenka: I really like this. :)
The Composer: Thank you. I like it too. One of my better poems. It was a constructive way to deal with pain. And it's true, in so far as I am concerned.
WZ I really, really like the last three lines. They're about perfect, imho. :)
Anon.: Hi - I'm here because I commentstalk witchzenka. I like it too. Reminds me of Leonard Cohen - not in word use or rhythyms, but in the headspace (or maybe that should be heartspace).
TC: Thank you both. I'm flattered. I shall endeavor to post more of my poetry.