I believed you the first time (Poem)

 

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There is an anger inside of me

an anger cultivated from seeing the world through your eyes

the seeds of this understanding in fields once plowed

by the merciless and unyielding force of religion’s myopic blade

having once been allowed to fallow

as the fruit had grown bitter on the vine

this ground is now once again turned over and replanted

in this season of humanity’s discontent

I know you by the fruits of your labor

having once bore the weight of your harvests’ yield

I know the saccharine words you speak are laudanum laced

which heals as a whip renders flesh across the back heals

and comforts as salt comforts though generously applied

Evil is the man who says bad is good

and bad is made all the worse when done in the name of God

and that God’s hand is turned to a cloven hoof that tramples

lives and destroys families and ignores the pain of others

whistling while you work, while you plow your fields,

hymns and psalms with anger in your eyes

Yet I am the rock in the way of your blade

that kicks up and smacks against your mouth

I’ll be the clod that dulls the steel, the hole in the ground that lames your beast

for as inevitable as you might be, though you have names that cause men to tremble in marketplaces where you trade

I am the fruit that you created – and the irony of in the demise of your efforts

For I have been poisoned and carry that weight with me

in the truth of who you are that rests between my ears

I know that one with God still constitutes a majority

and though you can’t even begin to articulate my little finger. nor do you have the power to cause one hair to grow on my head

I know everything and everyone and exactly what you are

over and over you showed me and in your haughtiness you told me

and I – biding my time – waiting for my moment –

believed every word and deed – believed it all

the first time.