The poem created by me is based on a haunting and powerful image by Han van Meegeren.
My moral ingress
began with His hands on my forehead.
A loveless young woman,
in the custody of a natural passion,
fleeing from the one ordained as my keeper
to the one with the invisible halo.
the lashes and stones in my name.
the voice of the one who walks
Fates don’t intervene
and the reasoned audience with our
Messiah in flesh
keeps me safe.
Let me say
this odyssey of comeuppance
should be my own birthright
and other kith and kin of my sex
must administer me clemency,
and fair judgement.
a woman’s morality,
even letting the slip of a word
with another man
without her conjugal chaperone in attendance,
is like some divine judgement,
The judgement from other men
turning Madonna into a fallen harlot.
in the name of the one who walks
The messianic one,
draw me to the lot
of my kindred’s breasts
and let them decide my course
when your congregation leaves town
and the lashes and stones return,
to exile me.