A Poem & A Picture (Till Justice Comes)

April is National Poetry Month; it is also Sexual Assault and Awareness Month. I was reminded of the latter while reading a post by fellow blogger Kurt Brindley.

I wrote this poem (some years ago) after hearing one too many gut wrenching stories of sexual assault, rape and molestation. It has happened to women [and men] I know personally and you know what — One is one too many!

Feathers and Flames (1024x683)

 Till Justice Comes

by Janna Hill


I cut the stained satin, the sheets where you laid

The mattress beneath them, I sliced & engraved

But despite all my cutting you won’t go away


I stabbed at the pillows till fine downy flew

I stabbed and I jabbed – each aim meant for you

While white lifeless feathers fell without clue


At the semen and slobber – I stabbed all the more

I sliced at the blood and prayed it would pour

Pour from your body wherever you are


When I was done, had cut them to shreds

It wasn’t enough, you didn’t feel dead

So I sat them on fire and burned every thread


I raked up the ashes and ground them with stone

To a fine wispy powder I thought were your bones

Each minute grain- evil seeds you had sown


Then I placed the damned ashes deep in a hole

Inside a corked bottle I hoped held your soul

And just for today I had control


I’ve nothing but anger to ward off the numb

To a million vile deaths I watch you succumb

My imagined revenge… till justice comes

Sonny Came Home

Nearly every day, in every direction  there is a field burning or rolls of hay spontaneously combusting around here. Texas is a tinderbox.

As I drove through the smoke this week (and snapped a few quick pics) a song popped into my head. Things that pop into my head are not always appropriate, but that’s how my wheels roll. Dang, I wish I had written those lyrics.

Last but not least, folks, please be careful with your embers and watch out for your neighbor. A huge thanks to the firemen of the world.