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#notavictim

I can hear them, the voices, the shouts,
the cries of hurt and solidarity.
Me too, moi aussi, anch’io
no boundaries.

I could add my voice.
I remember the chaffing of the rope,
the cut of serrated steel,
the boot shaped bruises.
The entering of my person was in fact the least of the violations.
He still did not possess me.

I remember fear,
real knicker wetting fear,
nine inches of lifetime guaranteed steel
at my throat.
Short lifetime.
I could make a joke about the six inches he had in his trouser pocket
but it doesn’t seem right.

Oh I can bring the bloody bodily fluids back
right now.
But what purpose will it serve?
I have buried them deep
where they need to be.
The wounds have healed
they do not need to be reopened and examined
by the noise of a Yale lock
or hashtags of me too.

Last few words: 
#metoo has come up on social media a lot recently. I have very mixed feelings about it. Why is there the sudden need to have a mass identification with any form of personal infringement. To my mind, it turns every #metoo er into a victim. I have been on the receiving end of some appalling violence, albeit 30 years ago. This does not make me special - or a victim. I don't need or want sympathy, this isn't what the poem is about. Anyway, sorry I haven't been around much recently - I've been in hospital having more heart work done and also trying to look after my fast deteriorating mother. Sadly the latter will prove to be all too finite. Jx The poem is exactly as it was written this morning - it may well need editing, it probably won't get edited.
Editing stage: 

Comments

I do not facebook or twitter, so I am totally ignorant of your references. I have noticed that all the #'s and you tube performances ultimately have comments idiotic and hostile, and rather than get caught up in it...I chose Neopoet (?) I guess.
So I approach the poem face value, about a mean and violent event which you are declaring to the world you have transcended; the wound have healed, you've moved on, and think others should do the same if they have had some trauma...like, "get over it" is the message. Other than the title, and reference in the last line, and "add my voice" most of the poem works without explanation.
Sorry to hear about your mother, my 96 year old mom is in bad shape as she keeps on falling- as people do at that age- 7 weeks ago broke her pelvis, last week her broke her shoulder..sorry to hear about your health issues and although i don't "pray" , some of the great poems you have written have been very inspiring and so I feel we have met and are friends.. and my poetry soul is rooting for you.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

and thank you for the welcome back.
I think I may need to write another poem about social media and it’s trivialising effects.
Struggling a bit with poetry et al at the moment. Made the fatal mistake of attending a writing course- for poets. I know some folk here have no time for them, but as an educator I am always open to education. I think it’s temporary, but I seem to be questioning everything I write, finding fault with it and just generally dissatisfied with it. I am writing, but my style has changed - not sure for the better. Anyway I do think it’s all part of the journey as they say, we are not supposed to be static.
My Mum is only 81, but not wearing well. She has had a lot of strokes, TIAs and a subdural haemorrhage, she too falls over a lot and her. cognitive processes are degrading quite quickly.
C’est la vie I suppose, but not easy. We all have Mums and they they all age before we do, so not an unusual situation by any means, just a hard one to accept.
Anyway l am rabbiting on, glad you dropped by and lovely to hear from you.
Jx

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author comment

It is always a pleasure to see you here.
To join in this public ravage of our women folk even by the ones concerned will not change things.
All they had to do was quietly go to the police, if that helps now, and report those nasty's, we seem to be locked into a power struggle as always.
I wont mention the perpetrators as they are the scum of the earth, why those that are being accused haven't been arrested yet I can't understand..
A builder who is doing a grand job and wolf whistles at a young lady walking by, will be taken to the local courts and labelled a pervert and other things, yet someone from Hollywood who has over the years abused women hasn't even been charged with anything yet, are there a separate laws for those with money and power ???? I hate it and it is about time all in law are treated equally but can't see that happening... That will do Ian !
Hope you are better now young lady and we send healing to you also to your Mum that you both recover and get back to a normality.
Take care and know we care,
Yours Ian and the Children xx

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Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

Me too, ups and downs, up set with so much of my work. It's all right, there are still a couple I like of my work, on of which is "Midnight Collapse" about misplacing your muse. Take a look!
For sure we all keep coasting along in this difficult craft, difficult because it's not physical like music dance, or painting, or visual, but mental. Its so hard to both find yourself and your poetic voice in concert. Maybe that's why large percent of the "great" poets commit suicide...ain't to many great composers who have, if any. Fortunately for me I'm not mad enough to do that...
May I suggest a great little piece by the late Jim Simmerman called Twenty Little Poetry Projects. Sometimes lately I start there. It's really brilliant!
I think we also cannot expect control over the high's and low's of writing poetry, and good courses and workshops can seem to put you in your place. But be assured you have written some very extraordinary poems, and will do some again.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Just that. Jx

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author comment

.....''''I could make a joke about
the six inches
he had in his trouser pocket
but it doesn’t seem right....''''

may say 10 inches
would've elated him
hahhha 6 is normal
for all normal human beings
except horses and donkeys kinds
few and far between
ah! the smile!!!!
any knife even in the kitchen
what did you think???
feeling just a bit funny

how was the hearty hospy trip
I was wondering also
I had gone to see a friend
could have met you too ...

Your poem begs the question of why all these "victims" waited so long to tell their stories. And it likely also helped you to come to terms with what must have been a horrendous event. Good to see you back and hope your hospital stay did your heart good......stan

It certainly does beg that question.
My writing the poem above has nothing to do with my healing from the event - I have got over it and moved on, I am not damaged by it.
Nor was it to do with finally telling my story, as anyone who knows me well, already knows it.
I just used my story as a reaction to the wave of incriminations which have hit public and social media. I can not see how trivialising a real problem down to a # is a positive thing and by saying 'metoo' then, as I see it, those women (and men) are turning themselves into victims. Again, I do not see how this is a positive thing.
Heart issues, still ongoing, but hopefully we will turn the corner. Jx

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Not that I like what happened to you, but it is a good poem. Don't worry too much about being your own worst critic. Many of us are. ~ Gee.
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Indeed, our own worst enemies, lol. Jx

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Glad your back, hope you and your mother do well. I would not change a thing, leave it raw. Love Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I will leave it just as it is, it isn't a poem to polish. Jxx

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