Feeling Small
This part one of a trilogy of poems based upon the sensative subject of Domestic Violence. The first looks at situation based upon men violence towards women, the second part looks at the subject where men are victims and the third looks at its effect on children. For each research has or will be done. Amongst the research for the first I interviewed a victim of Domestic Violence
The course of true love is, but a tumbling stream,
babbling down rock festooned valley’s deep,
twisting through the tiniest gaps, playfully, from rock to rock
before bursting its confines onto the rich unruly plains of life.
Liquid diamonds press on, bathed in blue cotton cloud skies.
Our love had the fragrance and radiance of a sweet pea.
These were my favourite flowers and he, my man.
I felt I was so safe in his arms and secure in our future.
My loved up vision failed to see the grumbling storm clouds,
My loved up vision failed to see the lightning strike of his hand.
It was supposed to be a romantic meal a night to share our love,
instead I sat there like a rabbet caught by two candle lights.
Lightening filled your blackened eyes, a tirade shot from your mouth,
“You’re a whore, you prostitute yourself, you’re a worthless cow”.
He was man possessed by demons, as the blows reigned in.
Next day he was back to my man again, very apologetic, full of promises’.
He confessed he had lost his job and was scared he’d lose me.
My mind was awash with emotions, a ship without a rudder,
He’d made me feel small, worthless, in need of his approval on everything.
Friends said that I should leave, but I loved him thought he’d change.
The tirades grew; I was punched and bullied as your control tightened.
I felt like I was being kept as your slave, in an emotional cell.
I thought of happy childhood places, when you forced you’re love.
Finally I saw the light, whilst I was trapped in the dark,
I’d lost my reality, got a broken heart, but my phoenix burned inside.
Slowly my phoenix grew strong, began seeing you for who you really are.
Found out about your insecurities covered up by your thirst for power,
that you had followed me, even cheated on me, had another child.
Finally I got you out after you assaulted me, got you sent down,
but tender scars run deep that can be re-opened by a phone call
You did not realise you were in my heart where ever I walked
I had been there for you any time, we could have just talked.
Please respect my own space now, whilst you did your time.
I would have, would have been there for you, end of the line,
So don’t expect me to be there when you let out this time.
©Phil Golding 07/08/10 -
winston plowes
Thu 12th Aug 2010 22:27
Good luck with your project Phil. reallyliked some of the phrases but struggled a bit with the change in tense sometimes. I think Andy is right in some ways, Thereader will fill in the gaps themselves in their own way. (Rabbet - Rabbit?). Don't want to seem to negative phil as this poem has guts and captures a personal story, 2 great plus points. Win x