Secrets
by Marty Kay
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Remembering abuse |
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A chilling wind
cuts through the cloister
chafing her cheeks;
stinging,
like the sharp slap
from her father,
when he fondled her.
Clutching her rosary,
she seeks solace
in the smooth wood,
pressed and polished
from years of fingered flesh
and fervent prayer.
Drilled in silence,
duty bound,
she bows to the bells
demanding her obedience.
Sequestered;
she kneels in a pew
of hardened oak
seasoned by a soul's
lingering memories.
Looking up,
she stares at the Saviour
pinned to the stained cross,
His face chiselled in pain.
Closing her eyes,
she remembers the pangs
of perverted love.
Sighing, she prays;
the best-kept secret
between them held.
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| Reviewed by Connie Faust |
1/7/2011 |
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I have a sense of her identification with her Savior. Beautiful work.
Connie |
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| Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart |
5/20/2010 |
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| So dramatic and heart wrenching. |
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| Reviewed by Donna Quesinberry |
5/19/2010 |
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Marty,
Wonderful adaptation of the fallacy of the foibles of faith coupled with the actuality of endearing the hardship of life by faith.
I love the juxtaposition of the wood to the flesh.
Very nice rendering, ~D. |
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| Reviewed by Dayvid Graybill |
5/17/2010 |
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Wow! Feelings run deep in this one! I could feel the pain.
Peace,
Dayvid |
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| Reviewed by John Flanagan |
5/16/2010 |
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Well written, Marty, with well chosen words and images and genuine resonance and impact.
John |
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| Reviewed by Annabel Sheila |
5/16/2010 |
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This is awesome poetry, Marty!!! Perfectly penned!!! Loved it!
Anna |
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| Reviewed by Paul Judges |
5/16/2010 |
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| Very well penned, Marty |
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| Reviewed by John Bidwell |
5/15/2010 |
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What a deep feeling poem, and yes- as sad as can be.
I'm afraid few nuns were ever Daddy's little girl.
And then to spend their lives trying to love the God who let it happen...
Quite a poem.
John |
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| Reviewed by Mary Lacey, Desertrat |
5/15/2010 |
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Marty,
How terribly sad something like this should happen. Well written and cuts to the soul.
Mary |
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