Freshly Fingered Fabrics

Freshly fingered fabrics
lapse into gentle silence,
those fraudulent fabrications
that twist into violence
and disappear
have dragged  tear  by  tear
down my cheek     registered fear
among all but the meak
The brave, they say, is
the true  slave
to fantasy.....But I
pledge myself  to anonymity 
suffering gently these
sweet thorns   that are born
from trying too hard
from crying too loud
aching and waking and forsaking
the crowds
sweet appraisal;
The damsel is silent,  in distress
underdressed  in her amnesty...
this distant hypocrisy
forgets me
and I swerve   to define  this 
line   of my observations
this truth of my inner nation
proclaiming itself to be
free
mired in mud
transpired in blood
higher than the seers
who predicted the flood.
Babble on....sweet priest
deceive the ignorant  on the streets
of Babylon
anoint your tampon   and slide in
to plug up
the slut of your ideology
to stop the flow
of connection   of energy
from the heart of god
to the god of Earth
who whispers secrets 
in the form of Birth.

Charleen Johnston
  11.27.2002