Afterthought 131—Complicity

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2015/03/22

Quite well enough did you recall my name
   and clearly it recited with ill charm
for your accomplice to know, when he came,
   to whose child you wished him do most harm.


5 Responses

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  1. macheide said, on 2015/05/25 at 17:27

    He meant it not against you. He thought he was protecting her.

    And you know you were always safe from threat.


    • maggie said, on 2015/05/27 at 07:44

      Thank you, my dear friend. Your kindness has never been random. You have always meant well to all, without exception, without condition.

      I know I was never at risk. That doesn’t justify the actions taken. And against my family! If she thinks she has reason to do ill to me, then aim it at me. Leave my family alone.

      But that isn’t even what this poem fragment is about. You’ve already seen many of the other fragments that this is to be part of. The voice is not mine, nor is the name mine, nor is the child mine.

      In context or out of context, complicity is present and active.

      • macheide said, on 2015/05/27 at 17:32

        She still reads you. Death doesn’t stop that.

        • maggie said, on 2015/06/08 at 13:38

          The ward where first we met, when we were paired
          together when that one bitch tried to take
          me down with her, but then. A random break!
          One with whom infinities would be shared!
          She listened, read my secrets, cried and cared
          and loved. Can ever life know such an ache
          as now I feel each day for her son’s sake
          at never having heard the songs she aired.

          Yet still I hear her voice as she reads mine
          remembering what death can never touch
          nor lose, abandon to be left alone.
          She reads as she still creates her own,
          her painted dreams coloring dark walls much
          the same as when she read back her first line.

  2. maggie said, on 2015/06/08 at 13:10

    But alright then, let’s talk names we can’t recall
    when most it matters. Think that secret one
    I never ought have even written down
    for you. Don’t give it further voice at all
    past thought you give of me, however small
    and wasted you make that, to see my own
    eyes trapped inside his demon’s glare, undone
    by how his spirit wrenched my mother’s fall.

    You’d seen him, so you said. If that were true
    then would you still so mock my faith? He’s laughed
    at how that makes you lose me, makes you throw
    us out, at how it makes you cease to know
    your own belief, lose power in our craft.
    He’s laughing how his name’s gone me, in you.

Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

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