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I Heard Me Grieving

Poetry By: Patricia McGurk Martin
Memoir



I heard me grieving
I heard my unspeakable grief
spoken and cried out by My Beloved
And Rage consumed me
A Terrible rage when I heard
The sound of My Little Self grieving
And recognized my most Loved Voice


Submitted:May 11, 2011    Reads: 44    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I Heard Me Grieving

For the Fatima My Love Writings

© 2011 Patricia McGurk Martin Hearst Himmler


I heard me grieving

I heard my unspeakable grief

spoken and cried out by My Beloved

And Rage consumed me

A Terrible rage when I heard

The sound of My Little Self grieving

And recognized my most Loved Voice

I almost stayed separately in

another room

a Rage Room to act to protect

My Love from a certain prison

One ultimate day so

I walked out of the rage

to finally protect Me

proceeding once again to the Den

of the Degraded Torturers

to find My Beloved and leave

Carrying my Grieving Self

My best friend suffering

Now I grieve with rage in

My youngest heart of hearts

My Soul My only Soul

is held safely by me

I grieve with controlled rage

With the strength of cold steel

reinforced with magnetized ion fibers

vibrating oscillating

I never did beg once in my life

never once did I beg

I cannot bear the sound

of My Beloved Grieving

It fills me with anguish and

A terrible rising rage in my chest

that hurts enough to kill me

while I suffered in two locations

living in the complex duality

of the United States

especially as a woman with brilliance

forced into helplessness

and once a little girl

helpless in a deathly grip

a vise through innocent trust

of terrifying betrayors

and I am forced every day to smile

in the sunlight while remembering

the darkness that no one acknowledges

ever happened to Me

happened to My Beloved Self

I was Always Me

but no one ever knows Me

or my Suffering as My Beloved

in those terror rooms globally

or the hills with bones and crosses

the dirt floor jails

the Taj Mahal or the Kremlin

I stayed to free My Beloved

from the Tyranny

I stayed to free My Beloved

And still I stay.

I will not carry the torturers

Onto a continuum with me

My Beloved is Free

My breath carries my Beloved

While I show her it really is

Her Breath My Breath Is Hers

The Breath of God

Blows for my Beloved Fatima

Really I am My Beloved

her Mother self, perhaps

But always loving as her Mother

Until My Fatima is finally Free

Free from the Torturers

Free from the Tyranny

And is Finally Safe as Me

The wind of God blows

For my Beloved

Her breath is my only gentle song

The only childhood I had is my Fatima's

smile and sweetness

My once isolated intellectual breath

is My Beloved's Relief forever

I was holding my breath for her

all these years

waiting to exhale

as her freedom from the slavery

once I finally exhaled my conscious

memories and control

with the unbreakable Bond of Love

glued like Super Glue to my Beloved

in the holy union of the soul

My Virgin Solitary Soul





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