Trilogy Of Love Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

So Special

Mother's Voice: 'You think you're so special...'

I heard in disbelief; my spirit crushed and beat.
The words of my mother were not gentle nor sweet.
With a sorrowful heart, I obeyed her command
as a slap of thunder resounded from her hand.

And from this fathomless heart, I will pour a song
of torture and torment and how it made me strong.
Little girl lost - more sullen and more moody grew -
struggling just to survive, although no one knew.

Dear father was embittered and disconsolate.
My mother cheated with his friend. Too late! Too late!
The swell of anger, the furious storm of ire,
and the look of hate in his eyes that burned like fire.

The fatal daggers she threw with words once spoken
tore the mountain of my dad and left him broken.
Frightful frown on the lips that used to smile for me -
he fluttered like a butterfly, no longer free.

Smash! Crack! Bang! My mother's promise broken in two.
Father was a fury; in a hurry, he flew.
I cringed in the corner, cried for his wretched state.
It lasted forever and the hour was late.

I sat in darkness like an eagle on its wing,
unable to fly from my endless suffering.
My father took his life, and he cast it away.
Like a lost butterfly, he fluttered where he lay.

I thought he was so special; how could I have known
that the walls of the heart are made of desert stone?
And all the teardrops water the roots of the soul
where threads of light cannot enter an empty hole.

Nothing and A Nobody

Mother's Voice: 'You are nothing and a nobody...'

With briers and thorns, the garden was overgrown.
My hero, my dear father has been overthrown.
Noxious dew lingers and covers my skin with fear.
I've been left with a demon; the demon is near.

A small ball of flesh is thrown down the spiral stairs.
A meteor of laughter electrifies hairs;
and they stand on end as her words throb in my brain.
Soon shall I pass away and end all of this pain.

I take on the mantle of guilt and blame, weighing
me down the cool stairway of broken dreams flaying.
I descend into unconsciousness, close my eyes.
Soul of my father! Dark honey kisses my sighs.

Quick! The sound. O! My Lord! She is coming this way.
I pray. I pray. Please make the devil go away.
Hate sparkles like a black night within her eyes, dead.
Her serpent fingers grab hold my neck and my head.

Her breath is like a grave, but I shall have no rest.
My doom is fixed, fearful, of the worst at its best.
There are nothing but shadows, the nights of her hand;
and the sad channels of youth are filled with black sand.

The dark waters wash over me, taking me low.
I want to swim away; it can never be so.
I am washed roughly to shore, and he takes my pearl,
jewel of a woman in the shell of a girl.

Empty is the night; I shall die in misery.
But will there be no one left to weep over me?
Am I nothing and a nobody? Is it true?
If so, then my father, let me come be with you.

Unloveable

Mother's Voice: '... and no one will ever love you.'

Enslaved, held captive by a mother filled with hate.
I should weep for her, but I can't. It's far too late.
Our human sorrows can never caress the dead.
Silent and starving, yearning for love fills my head.

And how from this vain world do we ever find rest?
How do we give the gift of love to those oppressed?
We are exiled together on this planet Earth.
We should love each other from the moment of birth.

Sorrow rises and falls in this sad world so much.
The illusive dream is always just out of touch.
If love's sovereignty, no known distance can bar,
then, when heart is near heart, love can never be far.

But love is a jewel, that is bright and so rare,
so be mindful and handle it with utmost care.
For, there are shadows that never the sun has seen
and there are some hearts where no love has ever been.

Life's sweetest flowers lift the soul on fragrant wings,
and every zephyr their breath silently brings
a discourse of love from both without and within.
It's the miracle of love that we hope to win.

I once wore fine robes, but now they are in tatters.
Without a love in this life, it hardly matters.
When hunger presses from the heart, we yearn to eat
that sweet banquet of love that will make us complete.

I wish love and fulfillment of peace in your hands.
May it grow in your heart despite all life's demands.
If you are a scorched rock, may you suddenly sing.
Open the doors of your heart and love everything.