In Absentia

In Absentia

Blood has lightning-like speed and drips with clarity,
it is not red but crimson; crimson penetrates concepts
much better as they seep through and explode in my
mind, when the wrath of society is upon my head and
I develop a migraine from the cavity of that energy.

It’s amazing how the creative ferment still operates,
even when I become irritable with sheer fatigue, and
the demand causes detachment overwhelmed with tears
and accusatory diatribes about imaginary unfortunate
creatures, hard pressed not to feel the authenticity

of their tragedy, within the storm-swept re-enactments
of their crimes. I nudge my muse, breathing in the burning
sensation of her fire, hard pressed to find the balance
between pity and terror. I know her heart; it’s a washrag
covered in wounds that bleeds out crucial scenes,

with variations of her normal heartbeat, best handled by
immersing characters into chaotic materials, with many
flowery acknowledgements of such, dealing with the
neuroses in preparation for the next chapter of her book.
She does this casually, my muse,

and I listen, tapping into the collating beat of her heart
that pumps her blood not liquid red, but crimson,
noncommittally to her own survival, in the irregularity
of pulse, where genuine torture fumbles with self-discipline,
conceived and driven, convicted, by the misery

of in absentia.

http://empedoclesspell.blogspot.com/2010/11/open-diary-of-witchmy-new-bo...

Author's Notes: The Open Diary of a Witch ~

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A magical, autobiographical journey through poem and prose. By Theresa C Newbill

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