Trip to the Store


 photo from Pexels by artist Clem Onojeghuo


a poem by Joshua Brown 


Woman without a king is lost,

Not by nature, but chosen lot.

Flashy lure cast into water

Tempting man to slaughter.


A mother cast her demon spell

A myth of survival ghost indwelt

Where did the child disappear to

The witch circumcised her, a Jew.


You are mine, the pagan horde

You are mine, the Jewish sword

Casting down the cross of Christ

Kill the King! My son pays the price


Little baby daughters innocent of sin

Superstition killed the next of kin.

Flames engulfed the minivan

Smoke by tornado fanned


Terror, terror! Cried the one

Masked but with concealed gun.

I did the best I could to you

But do not to me in lieu


I brought you in, I'll take you out

But you musn't bother to shout

The neighbors will hear the piano

And we will suffer, die dishonored


Where is dad. He didn't respond.

Probably dead in the river drowned.

Anxious attention to detail

Mind your P's and Q's without fail


Dumb coward who never tried

Fed himself, for himself cried

Still defends abusers as kind

For the good times again he pined.


Suicidal thoughts had flooded in

Raking through the debris of sin

Spanking broke through but not

The way the spankers had thought


Bringing rebellion and fornication

The Hebrew 12 rules condemnation

Surrender to the naive fool with whip

The whip you'll take till to Hell you slip


Pray for me, pray for this wicked man

For if you do not pray, more wickedly I'll stand

How wicked is this man because you do not pray!

Because you do not pray, in wickedness I'll stay.


Mystic magic words I'll use in hate

Of those who abused my fate

Stinging words of condemnation

By those who seek justification.


Conjuring demons to make love to me

Conjuring demons to set me free.

Scripts that I imagined might have worked

Recipes of disaster while basics shirked.


Simple little patterns that make the world

Patterns I rejected, patterns of flags unfurled

I built myself a town of lies

For my little child lost I cried.






I could have had a moment.

She could have had a moment.

The child is alone and desperate.


#poem #poetry #freeverse #rhyme #selfknowledge #abuse #trauma #therapy