Helen and Teacher

Helen and Teacher
The Story of my Life

Sunday, August 14, 2011

For Erzebet: From Sappho, I Should have Listened

Here is a poem published in my chapbook on po
For Erzebet

The Blood Countess


“Justice, my lord,
Shall I have Justice?”

I say this to the barren
Wall, cold, stony, stoic.

Below more stones lie in wake,
Splotched with lichens, just lichens.

“Blood,” cried all,
“Blood,” swore my Cousin King,

“More Blood!” screamed the
Villagers—

Was it mine they wanted?
Was it mine they saw on the stones?

Was it maiden spilt, as I now
Stand  judged of letting?

But where is my story?
When do lichens turn to  Blood?

To Blood money for me?

Who speaks for me?
What ill fame cloaks me?

With no defense I am
Accused.

Blood, mine royal, damns me,
My trial is forbidden to me.

My husband is gone,
His blood spilled in battle

For king and country he
Widowed me,

For greed and ransom,
He forfeited my home…

Blood of innocents is spilled,
Blood of ignorance

Blood of young girls
Of Iron maidens  never met,
Blood of crimes laid at my door

Till now, I stand and ask again
As the cold wind sighs through cracks,

“Shall I have Justice,
Master Jailor?’

And the walls weep blood-red lichens
And reply, “For you, netry:

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