This is a poem (with a happy ending!) about surviving a stalker ex, his attempt on my life and suicide, and the fact that it was my passion for music and Ireland which kept my heart safe during the years I needed to fully recover from the situation.

----------------------------
Richer Than Solomon


When the demon fell
I wept with relief,
excised of the gangrene
of youthful bad permission,
my conscience leaden with deep-six freedom
from the poisonous thing that I fled in the darkling woods.

Music hid away as a selfish fancy
and the stanch of silence stopped my heart’s bleeding.
Silence was warm and full of sun-dust,
rippled only by traintrack staccatos.
My silence was like the smell of bread,
simple and richer than Solomon.

I became deaf in a boat of gathering treasures.
Incensed by peace,
the beasts shrieked at my nothing affluence
pleading for a fresh finite vein to bite into and suckle.
But for sanity’s sake,
my bitter cold breastplate had no time
for childish tears and cigarette burns.

And my own smug nothing cried empty from within
which a badly glued heart could not fathom.

Curled within golden armor
dreaming warm caresses in a piper’s waltz
alone I was finally undressed
and rocked sweetly to sleep
by the compassion that I found
in Eireinn.

And music bravely returned
with my heart in hand
ears set against the buzz
of the fens of mediocrity,
stubbornly and slowly punting
across the Styx of my tears.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...