...for those who came from within my womb...

Wrapped Weeds
for my children...
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
June 19th, 2006

The tower collided with the shopping cart, and the bags of wasted leisure fell and
Splattered like old paint left in an open can, colors of timid furor lay on the hot
Concrete, and the asphalt bubbled BLACK in the summer death watch, and the steam
Settled, spread, and lifted to the sky, there is no peace at the end, and the time has
Come to rid your garden of the weeds, which are wrapping about my throat like
Indonesian cheap rope, spliced and irritating to touch, you did not know it but
Gone is my good bye, the words of refuge, and hate
Tonight the stars will twinkle in a new sky that is eased of
My tears, hurt, and hardship--the loss of the children is their
Ending, and their patriarch is going to watch their faces fall
Like snowflakes in the desert, "they" melt and never fail to question him-- no answer
He sunk the ship, and drowning without a life preserver, he lived a LIE of hate
The men around him laughed at his cheap antics, and the women of prestige scorned
His advances for he never meant a thing, to anyone, but the Creator, took the
Gift and attempted to suffocate his wife, children, and reap the gains of emptiness now
Let him see the rosebush bloom and die, to remember the years of life destroyed
There is no prison dark enough for his seclusion or
No house big enough for him to live, there is no refrigerator
Filled with food for his starvation, or a lake bearing fish for him
To catch, there is no beginning for the ending, for the weeds thrive
Flourish, and wrap around his neck, and the cow waddling in the pasture is a soft
Reminder of a promise made, that simple life, "till death do us part" that statement
Of faith, trust, and eternal love now empty of it's vow, and the church bells are
Ringing on a day I will never see, the prayers are spoken in reverence by faces
Mouths and eyes, that do not mean "I love you" and live this life, in care, just a strong
Word of truth, it all is gone, and the ice cream truck slowly passes, this hot summer day...

The phone rings, no answer, a prison cell locks, why do they all give up when
Two strong legs hold their form solid on God's ground, why do they take a life
Meant to live, escape a promise made, educate themselves in revulsion, and miss the
Gentle first kiss of new love, and respect is just a four letter word written in
Graffiti on a crack house wall, then fuck yourself first, before others, for the day will
Come when oatmeal is not nutrition, a mother's touch is long gone, she is dead
Give birth again and again, until the clock strikes and you are
Tired of nursing babies at the breast, and that man next to you
Is a pall bearer at a funeral (it could be yours), and sex is just
Like taking a leak, not even slow, relaxed, and kind, brutal ending
Rape is not just generic for all that is pure, simple, and white as new snow, it is ending
For the foot steps have pierced your body laying lifeless on the floor, a plow horse
Is better treated, and knows less pain than a man crying for his lost love at the end of
A half year wait (she is gone today), and tomorrow's sunset is the end of a day
O ne less person in bondage on this earth so small, and the cab fare from the hospital
Was reasonable, but the emptiness of being without a friend is eternal, a burning flame
Dress carefully for you might be on view by many for even
A pauper's grave draws attraction when reality sets in and then
Word of mouth brings those you did not expect to lead the way
Down this violet path to wave good bye, say "she was my friend"
Giant LIES fill this swimming pool behind the millionaire's home, like ice cubes sitting
Unable to melt, bodies of human life are easily seen this last night, intolerable waste
The "if only's" have ended, and a single poem remains written by a Greek man with
Vision (George Seferis) and the olive branch is not fragrant to those who cannot see
The truth, out beyond the last sea of salt, somewhere in a valley of strangers, there is
No more pain, there is a plan made, and to start the engine and drive away leaves

Ample grass in your back yard
Laughter from a female child's mouth as she
Splashes in the pool, suntanned, happy and then she
Cries out "Mommy I love you..."
Those words escape me for I am finally dead...