Creative Corner: Poetry by Ritual Abuse Survivors	Ritual Abuse, Ritual Crime and Healing

 

Untitled

One moment of time
let's say it is 1969
and a child is six years old
its time, my dear, she's told

Dark night
Bright fire
black man
barbed wire

Come to me, my child
a man in white -- he smiles
a cold and frosty field
then all becomes so wild

dead dogs'
red tongues
"don't tell"
you're the special one

In 1989
she couldn't forget
the smell of burning flesh
the echo their laughter left

private party
white males
ritualistic fires
sordid tales

Nails put through her hands
remnants of the klan
laughter at her plight
animals loose at night

Round the circle she's passed
beer bellies and hands that grab
she stabs with a shiny fork
and punctuates their joke

late night the plane is fueled
their anger never cools
kid porn's a lucrative trade
in the desert the film is made

bright lights
heavy drugs
guns of metal
murdering thugs

amidst the blood and gore
the director yells for more
puts a bullet to her head
perform or she is dead

cold night
no more fight
bloody corpse
sex with death warps

As dawn peeks over the world
"don't tell" once more she's told
the gun goes off again
she sees bloody brains of her new found friend

In time she learns to know
what rituals can be told
to expose the lives of men
wicked multiplied by ten

The time is coming near
she slowly wakes from fear
with each and every tear
he soul becomes more dear

she slowly learns to stand
upon sacred ground again
let go of childhood lost
the healing line is crossed

long dark nights
turn to healing light
passing from that room
she walks out from her tomb

As days to weeks to years
she listens to others' fears
growing from her plight
her life can now take flight

Don't ever stop the fight
turn darkness into light
stand up for what is right
women take back the night

• Barb

 

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