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Deadly
Chasidy Rae Sisk Poetry A dark star in the clear sky, A heavy cloud stationed over the head of humanity, The gentle breeze blows more forcefully as it overwhelms the emotions. Sinful, sins, deadly. Devouring, consuming Engorgement: overwhelming Hunger causes the starvation of Generosity and Giving by GLUTTONY. Touching, groping Salacity: La Petite Mort, the Little Death, grasps and strangles virtuous Chastity in LUST. Idling, lounging Lethargy: In its laxity, Laziness inadvertently suffocates Industry and Diligence with SLOTH. Preening, pampering Vanity: Overconfidence in self bloodily abolishes any remaining Modesty contradictory to PRIDE. Grasping, craving Covetousness: the Green-Eyed Monster wages war against Contentedness out of ENVY. Engulfing, enveloping Rage: Violence personified as…
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Phoenix
Chasidy Rae Sisk Poetry Spinning, twirling faster, out of control; Overwhelming – a struggle Lost, hopeless, gone – myself. STOP! Breathless, airless; consuming and catching fire – a spark, a flame, up in smoke. All this time, gone – us. OVER. Burning, engulfing Evaporated into nothing, emptiness – a change, Rising, regenerating out of the flames – REBORN. I am a Phoenix. I will rise above, I will fly high out of the flames of my past. Chasidy Rae Sisk – June 2014
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Female “Circumcision”
Chasidy Rae Sisk Poetry Female “Circumcision” A Sonnet They hold me down. “For your own good”, they say. “Won’t be a whore now. No man would want you.” He hurts me there. Nothing to ease the pain. I don’t want this; nothing I can do. He uses a thorn to cut off my clit, next takes my lips with a sharp shard of glass. They hold me together while he sews it. Parents say, “Now, no one can think you’re fast.” Fast forward five years, fifteen, wedding night. Nervous and shaking, I was a virgin in bed; Intent on slitting me open, he unsheathed his knife. I took it and…
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True Art
Chasidy Rae Sisk Poetry Detail on a canvas, a portrait of the person within – seeing through their face into their soul. A true masterpiece, a true work of art. Seeing not the physical evidence in front of your eyes, but the strokes of the brush that the artist left on the canvas from Her own soul to leave on Yours. Chasidy Rae Sisk 7/24/06
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Poetry
Pouring words onto paper as they enter into my thoughts, rearranging the world around you and me. Chasidy Rae Sisk 2/24/06
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May 25, 2020
George Floyd: prone on the street, knee to his neck, “I can’t breathe!” He pleads, “Don’t kill me.” Onlookers object; he’s not resisting arrest, “He’s human” falls on deaf ears above knees, Unyielding. The man’s pleas for his life continue, treated with no merit – A father to two daughters, a friend and a son, Big Floyd, the “gentle giant,” a “beautiful spirit,” Only 46 years old – and over $20, he’s gone, Unnecessarily. On May 29th, after three days of protests all over the nation, One officer is charged for his crimes and those of his brothers, But three other policemen were present for this sin. Will justice be…
