10 Wands Dian-y-Glas Deer

Slight change of plans from the last post. Over the weekend, I came more face to face with an awareness that I need to start forgiving others. It's not for them, that I need to forgive, it's for myself. To set mysel free. So here's the first stab at a poem I may need to send to someone.

"I Forgive You _____________"

Barbs of truth's tendrils may be named "Dolores"
or more likley "Trista". But I have held them
fast lo these many years. The "Admin-truth"
is that you played goalkeeper. I've been most
ungrateful! I'll cop to it. You shut the doors
against a most inappropriate placement indeed.

I hate to admit how much I've enjoyed the while,
while I wallowed in bile-colored waters.
All this time, I've pretended you had O So Much
Kraft--Sie hatten ueber mich zersiegten!
Heil _______! and the Horst Wessell song played
underneath your tarantel-dancing feetles.

The actuality's much more ordinary. I gave
you poems to read. You read them. Said "No,
I won't accept you into my class." Clap-clap-clap.
End of story, functionary, fairly automatic.
Perhaps only minor flaking off the rhinus?
Even now, print reporting the facts, I want to die!

Cut to 23 years later. I'm still writing.
I've even returned to poetry and prose,
even after acquiring a Dramatic Writing Mo'-Fo'
Arts Degree from Now You Undertakemassivedebt
University in la Village-Oest and yes!
I now work a legal secretary gig (Hooray Death!)

to pay off the burdensome loans my fat
head on top of my fat ass decided would be
an oh-so-grand investment in my fyoochah!
And I have no one but myself to blame.
Yes, you're pretty much off the old roundpoint.
And today I see I carry this irritant.

A part of me would sort of like to hold
this delicious resentment to my breast.
But I can't justify it cluttering my heartspace.
So much heart-soreness after weight-loss
compels me to dispense with anything that would
interfere with my hardwon sugar-flour freedom.

The time has come that I need to forgive
you for causing me this pain that I took to strange
depths and morbid inside twistie-freeze ties.
Some necrotic tissue must needs be expelled
so that a healing may take place, wherever
the light of the sun might compel it to grow.

On some level, I comprehend you saved me
from some worse fate, had I actually been taken
into the paneled and sterile walls of your web.
Today I embrace the life I have made for myself
so much brighter and joy-prone than ever before.
And I release you from contracts heretofore unknown.