Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

She lives with her husband on East side.
They have no kids and occupy three
Rooms in a rundown apartment block.
She can be considered a kind of

Professor of bruising, a sort of
Expert on bruises. She knows all there
Is about bruising: knows that bruises
Go from red to black, to blue, then that

Sickly yellow and finally green,
And then if he hasn’t punched her some
More, they’ll fade and she can wear her short
Sleeved blouses and short skirts again

And not have to worry about the
Unsightliness of the wounds, the sad
Pitiful looks from others, the pure
Innocents, the people from that nice

Other world of non bruising. Sometimes
He and she can be heard to laugh and
Have the TV on too loud too long,
But sometimes they can be heard to row

And then silence, then her screaming, then
Silence again. She wears her bruises
Well, they go with her change of dress, her
Eyes peering out between the swellings,

Her arms and legs and body covered,
Her lips closed and swollen, so that she
Can only hum to the music on
The radio or hi-fi and not

Sing. Her husband seems quite a nice guy,
A regular Joe, he’ll buy you a
Beer, talk about the races, the police,
The arts review and he’ll look you in

The eyes, all the time and you know behind
That mask, beyond the smiles and laughter,
A smaller man hides with fists ready,
With a cruel look and stare, with that cold

Unfriendly tongue and tone and all the
While his wife waits beaten up at home.

a dark troubling world, often codependent and difficult to break away from....I like your description of the little man behind the mask with clenched fists....an apt portrayal of the secret coward that picks on the weaker........then raises a glass like it never happened......also very good images of the battered woman.....a tough subject to make poetic, but one that should not be avoided simply for that reason....In Baltimore, Maryland, we have a great organization that a friend of mine works for called The House of Ruth to assist the breakaway.....they always have plenty of work in my city.....

Having witness this as a little boy images stay with you. Thank you, Saw, for reading & your comments.

A smaller man hides with fists ready,
With a cruel look and stare, with that cold

you capture the cuelty of abuse hiding behind normalcy
with those lines
disturbing but a fine piece of writing

write on
dave

Thank you, Dave, for reading & comments.