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For All I Care (Black Butterflies)

Throw her back. Throw her back, I say.
Cast her body back to the sea.
That child never did a damn thing
'cept bring embarrassment on me.

Pour her ink into that same swell.
Those words were never worth a thing.
Always thrashing against the norm
crying that Afrikaa was king.

Wash the walls of the servant's room
where she laid her head as a child.
Remove the blasphemy from site.
Erase the thoughts of whim gone wild.

Arrest those men who spread her legs
and hollowed their hands on her chest,
for they were not the man she wed,
just writers writing of her quest.

"You drain me woman," they would speak
as she gulped the wine from their glass.
"I cannot live this anymore
for this turmoil shall never pass."

She wrote for me with many words,
each a blade stuck deep in my eyes.
She was nothing more than a slut,
killing babies and telling lies.

So throw her back - just throw her back.
Cast her deep in the foaming sea.
Drown her again for all I care.
Child never meant a thing to me.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

Hair raising, mind numbing sequel so effectively profiled by you in this poem about child abuse

raj (sublime_ocean)

Thanks for taking the time to stop by and comment. I am curious as to your selection of the word "sequel". May I ask what you are referring to here?

Scott

Scott

author comment

Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I should have said "scenario" instead of sequel. I hope my comment now makes more sense.

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

The comment does make sense now. The poem seems to have moved you. Are you familiar with Ingrid Jonker?

Thanks,

Scott

Scott

author comment

Most certainly I was moved by the poem. I wasn't aware of Ingrid Jonker but thanks to you, you have provided insights about her life and her father's issues with her.

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

in a way. I am never good at story telling, or I haven't a true experience, but I bet this is a good one. I had an overall grab of the thing but sometimes I am lost in the details.
I also thought you've got a good rhyme sceme and rhythm throughout.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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Thank you for stopping by. Please let me know which details you are lost in so that I may clarify the poetry. It is a rough draft and there is much work as the meter is crap at this point.

The poem was inspired by the movie Black Butterflies. It is about African poet Ingrid Jonker. You may not like the movie, but some of her poetry is absolutely stunning. She has been called the Sylvia Plath of Africa.

When Sir Wesley returns, you may get some help with that storytelling. I have pitched an idea to him about a workshop. We'll see what he has to say on the subject.

Thanks again,

Scott

Scott

author comment

I am not familier with the movie, or it would have make it a bit easier. I am lost mainly in the woman's job. Was she a bad woman or just fell as a victim among some bad men. I think this is the issue I am not getting.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me
www.instgram.com/rularules1

was a victim to her father. He renounced her. He was high up in the government. Much of her work was against what he stood for. She often sought his approval only to be turned away. She was not bad, just lost, longing for her father to love her. He would not. Called her a slut after her affairs and abortion were made public. The men she was with tried to love her, but she made it too difficult for them in large part due to the conflicts with her father. (Please keep in mind this is the move version of her life, not sure how much credibility to lend here. This poem was just my reaction to the emotions stirred by it).

Ingrid killed herself by walking out into the ocean. When they told her father, he allegedly responded that they could throw her back for all he cared. It has also been stated that he publicly renounced her as his daughter during a presentation to other govt officials.

Again, the movie was not spectacular, but I do recommend reading some of her poetry. One of her better known works is The Child (Die Kind). It was read by Nelson Mandela at the first Democratic Parliament in 1994.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zMwdBX1V_8

Enjoy,

Scott

Scott

author comment

Very chilling story indeed which caused shivers after reading your brief about her.

raj (sublime_ocean)

from a lesser poet than yourself, presumptuous.
I can not bring myself to offer technical crit, only to offer my reading, which might help you hear the few stumbles.

https://soundcloud.com/jess-tapper/for-all-i-care-black

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

I was aware of the stumbles when I posted. I noted to Rula that there are meter issues. I will clean those up.

Glad to have you back after your loss. Your voice slides around this poem like a fine Italian leather glove. Even the "bumps" sound good.

Curious word "presumptuous". Not sure that my poetic ability (or lack thereof) makes it any less so.

Great read.

Scott

Scott

author comment

like a fine Italian leather glove." Wow! Thank you. I see the voice tool as a useful crit device, never expecting a compliment like that.
Glad that it helped.
Presumptuous? Well, to even try to get inside the mind of a major poet is at the very least challenging.
I have no idea how close you were which is irrelevant in the face, the bodily reverberation, of the truth the poem carries.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

The compliment is well deserved. You are always welcome to make my poetry better by applying your voice to it.

Scott

Scott

author comment
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