A Poem for Lilith
Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2016 4:27 pm
לִילִית
The warm darkness of the womb
is appealing in this bright, harsh, dry world
that waits for us to twist ourselves into vague mockeries,
hollow mummer’s costumes,
of the creatures we should be.
In our darkest hours,
we hide ourselves in warm water, turn out the lights,
and pretend that our mothers still cradle us in the infinite beyond,
in the time before we had to Become.
Child, it is time to grow;
it is time to leave the safety of the womb and
form yourself in the desert—
Like I did.
There is no comfort here, no
sweet words or gentle touches,
...no soft rocking
......in the small pond
...that housed you before you knew
what a Man was—
but you will learn, here, what you were meant to learn:
Hard lessons born from the harshness of a world that cares not
for the union of flesh and spirit,
the wholeness of Man;
a world that cares only for what one can offer
in this barren demilitarized zone
between Life and Death.
Do not let this world taint you;
do not let it twist you in the ways it has twisted so many others
that have walked the paths before you.
Listen to your Mother, speaking in the shadows of your soul
where the warmth and comfort of the womb dwell eternal—
where you knew who you were and
what you wanted to Become before
the world got its hands on you,
Ripping,
Tearing,
Shaping you into something you were not
and never wished to be.
Listen to Her voice when she whispers in the stillness of the night;
She will guide you to freedom along paths not often taken,
unlock the power hidden inside you that you thought you had lost,
bring you to your knees and recreate you into that which
You were
...always
......supposed to be.
Do not be swayed by the lies of those who
speak with tongues burned by the Light.
Do not listen when they say:
Be a good girl!
What a nice boy!
Sit down, behave, say nothing, think nothing,
do nothing
Until we ask it of you!
Do what you wish!
The world is
YOURS
for the taking, if only you will
.....reach out
...and pick
The ripe fruit growing in its slow,
...lazy orbit
around
...the
......gently
...glowing
star.
Kindness is not a weakness,
but they were wrong
when they changed the meaning of the word
“nice”
To control those too foolish to think otherwise.
March in step
And watch how quickly they let you sink
Into the quagmire of stagnation—
Into the quicksand of human folly—
And never offer you a vine.
That, dear Child, is where they want you:
Trapped.
Helpless.
Afraid.
Knowing nothing other than the crushing weight
Of the muck and the mire
That presses into your ribs and squeezes
The breath
..........From your lungs
Until
......You are unable
To
....Scream
The warm darkness of the womb
is appealing in this bright, harsh, dry world
that waits for us to twist ourselves into vague mockeries,
hollow mummer’s costumes,
of the creatures we should be.
In our darkest hours,
we hide ourselves in warm water, turn out the lights,
and pretend that our mothers still cradle us in the infinite beyond,
in the time before we had to Become.
Child, it is time to grow;
it is time to leave the safety of the womb and
form yourself in the desert—
Like I did.
There is no comfort here, no
sweet words or gentle touches,
...no soft rocking
......in the small pond
...that housed you before you knew
what a Man was—
but you will learn, here, what you were meant to learn:
Hard lessons born from the harshness of a world that cares not
for the union of flesh and spirit,
the wholeness of Man;
a world that cares only for what one can offer
in this barren demilitarized zone
between Life and Death.
Do not let this world taint you;
do not let it twist you in the ways it has twisted so many others
that have walked the paths before you.
Listen to your Mother, speaking in the shadows of your soul
where the warmth and comfort of the womb dwell eternal—
where you knew who you were and
what you wanted to Become before
the world got its hands on you,
Ripping,
Tearing,
Shaping you into something you were not
and never wished to be.
Listen to Her voice when she whispers in the stillness of the night;
She will guide you to freedom along paths not often taken,
unlock the power hidden inside you that you thought you had lost,
bring you to your knees and recreate you into that which
You were
...always
......supposed to be.
Do not be swayed by the lies of those who
speak with tongues burned by the Light.
Do not listen when they say:
Be a good girl!
What a nice boy!
Sit down, behave, say nothing, think nothing,
do nothing
Until we ask it of you!
Do what you wish!
The world is
YOURS
for the taking, if only you will
.....reach out
...and pick
The ripe fruit growing in its slow,
...lazy orbit
around
...the
......gently
...glowing
star.
Kindness is not a weakness,
but they were wrong
when they changed the meaning of the word
“nice”
To control those too foolish to think otherwise.
March in step
And watch how quickly they let you sink
Into the quagmire of stagnation—
Into the quicksand of human folly—
And never offer you a vine.
That, dear Child, is where they want you:
Trapped.
Helpless.
Afraid.
Knowing nothing other than the crushing weight
Of the muck and the mire
That presses into your ribs and squeezes
The breath
..........From your lungs
Until
......You are unable
To
....Scream
I really enjoy this style. Thank you for sharing it, Kharybdis!
Super great post