Collective Conscience of my Sins

We were stuck with the illness of the east
they stuck us hard living like nomads
in the middle of the sun,
and I recognize that burning ring
that follows me still
our sweat clogs up the pores
walking tirelessly to the next point
of the world
its wandering bodies that look
for comfort
take it methodically from others
every morning before I boil water
in the micro for caffeine
the newscaster keeps score
seventeen dead Palestinians
four dead Israelis
they cut each other so trivially
judging whose right would be
counting all the strands of hair
on my head
I fold the results into my pocket
drinking my breakfast
knowing others don’t gulp coffee
without imagining a bullet
like a blow to the back
of their skulls
they live like insects in a world
of giants out there
knowing the crushing foot
could come down on their
villages
that’s why I never step
on ant hills
there’s a population
in that sand too

Justifiably having to exist
is the hardest thing
with the situations God
has given some of us to live in
in the mornings I have to walk
with Emma to school
our skulls cooking in the summer
the trails of walking through broken
bottles to get to school
some of us must get through
showers of gunfire, as showers of
drizzle,
I’m glad we don’t have to pass land mines
to get to class this morning
living with Emma is a bit like holding
a live grenade, being cautious
blowing to bits
and I laugh between injuries
not at her
but for me
strapping gauze
doesn’t have to be drug induced
I don’t pour alcohol into my holes
I’d rather be awake than asleep
when things happen
it’s better to let it out
than to keep it in
I encourage the holes
to blow off steam
like the whales

Possibly terrorists started off
trying to blow off steam
keeping it in too long
passengers strapped with
explosives blow open
my only means of transportation
fear keeps me chasing after
myself
like a dog spinning around
in search of its own tail
I go in a circle
not to go out
but to stay in
deliberately seeking shelter
from paranoia
not from theirs
but from mine
you stopped calling me
when New York
became dispensable
now we know anyone
can die on the way
to the john to pea

I’m always peeing
swallowing quarts and
quarts of caffeine
I have spent half
my life in the
bathroom
my bladder
holds a teaspoon
of pea
its too hard having
to pea all of the time
if I had something long
to pull out
it would be easier
than having to squat
on my haunches
in front of men
I hate unisex bathrooms
urine is a personal thing
my blood is only for me
I don’t want strange men
to smell me
how funny one night stands
must be to the senses
I always plan the marriage
right after the sex
I’ve had four divorces in
my mind
I never played house
I lived so long with my
mother, I became her
companion
We do everything
as a couple
there is that L like Caine’s mark

a crack in the forehead
in high school they thought
I was a boy
I couldn’t unzip my pants
so my baseball cap
became my penis
I wore it on my crack
how stupid are teachers?
hiding the little pieces of fruit
underneath my windbreaker
I was not perfect
I was a teenager
without a social life
I must have believed them
marking my face with ink
in secret
there are those who belong
to the same country club

Are there places where girls
become boys until they
are sure they want their
breasts?
What a pity!
when others have seen
the spider webs inside
stuck with the labels
How long do others
suffer by living outside
of the perimeters?
by living too long inside
them we are smothered
if only being apiece of
society guaranteed
something

I sense feelings
have no borders
or boundaries
no rules
no limits
lonely people
live inside each
other
I miss Emile
right now
struggling between
men and women
and morality
and his homosexuality
there was more passion
in me when he was
around
his sins had conscience
to them
he was a father to them
scolding them
and weeping with them
when the trial of raising
them became too much
his involvement is SS politics
was the arthropod under
his skin stinging him
I loved him
until I knew he wasn’t
ever going to really
love me
he kept after another
man I loved too

How come I can’t define myself
when God is gone
I’m still the little girl
hiding the little birds
with my hands
I wanted to be Jahn
so bad
wanting to go from
man to woman
and back to man again
there was strength
in Jahn having to dress
up like a man to survive
occupied Paris
the madness of Mueller
SS officer feeling inside
of her body with his
fingers he had purposely
starved
he was a clothes hanger
with a stick of fire
like a lover between
his lips
he did it to weaken her
to remove his insecurity
by putting it into her
perversion saved her
the will of being able to crack
her as an egg
was the point of being
in that dirty cellar
ripping throats open

What Jahn and I wanted
was not to wrap
expensive animal skins
around our backs
but warmer temperaments
that comes when a man
loves a woman the right
way
she wanted Mueller to get
to the point of a redemption
he never found
they were the thoughts
I battled with
the petrified eyes
I look through
the signatures
I signed
the identities
that sift
my memories
the collective conscience
of my sins

©mattybduran2009

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Collective Conscience of my Sins by 


I wrote this after I finished my second novel. Mueller, Jahn, and Emile were characters from this novel. Jahn and Mueller had been lovers. Emile had been in love with Mueller. Jahn was French. Mueller and Emile were SS officers in occupied Paris.

Occupied France

Tags

god, israelis, new york, palestinians, sins

I am a servant of The Lord Jesus Christ. He is my Saviour and Lord. I am also a Christian mother who loves The Lord Jesus Christ. My writings are for His Glory. i belong to Him, and it is for Him, that i live. I honor the life God has created.

Exalt The Lord our God,
And worship at His footstool-
He is Holy!
(Psalm 99:5)
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Comments

  • Reynaldo
    Reynaldoabout 5 years ago

    wow my dear

  • Thank you Reynaldo I have missed you.

    – Matty B. Duran

  • Arco Iris  R
    Arco Iris Rabout 5 years ago

    Wow, another great write. Just keep them coming. Iris

  • Thank you for your encouragement Iris.

    – Matty B. Duran

  • Reynaldo
    Reynaldoabout 5 years ago

    I have been out of town misfit hope you are well cheers

  • So have I Reynaldo. Welcome back. Don’t be a stranger. Always, I appreciate your comments. Thanks!

    – Matty B. Duran

  • ricardo perez jr
    ricardo perez jrabout 5 years ago

    this is full of real thoughts thats great

  • Thanks Ricardo. I appreciate your comments.

    – Matty B. Duran

  • Ushna Sardar
    Ushna Sardarover 4 years ago

  • Thank-you for your feature Ushna. TO GOD BE THE PRAISE! matty

    – Matty B. Duran

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