Such Is The Pain...

Dedicated To My Psychic Father,

 Happy Birthday David Robert, Bowie Knife In My Pocket.

I see her again.

She is all there is left;  of shattered and seventeen.

There is a sound of a baby's whimpering, it comes from a room very near to the one she sits in.

She is staring straight ahead.

Her shoulders begin to tremble.

Her chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly; she sucks in all the air, contorts her face as she grits her teeth so hard they nearly crack and crumble.

Then her eyes close as she folds into herself and her whole body began to quake. 

She stays just this way for a small while.

When she lifts her head up once more, 

you see then that her eyes are bleeding;

they must be.

For she does not cry;

Not ever.

The blood red rivers of sorrow,

 of rage.

The Niagara falling; disillusionments despair.

Monsterous monsoon of shame and terror.

Tis’ only the bloodshed of a warrior.

 Now she bows her head puts her arms out to either side and grips the cushions of the sticky faux leather couch and all you see is the quaking girls blonde cropped hair covering bleeding eyes. 

I think I heard her say something as she tries to build the dam again. 

What was it?

A barely audible, 

“Please?

Help?

Why?

God? “

Her strange language.

The babe’s sobs had grown louder as if the chord that tied him to her in utero was still intact. Her head jolts up and she is slamming and pounding those final bricks into their proper place.

Her stronghold,

Her barricade,

Her ancient dam is back up as quickly as it had been knocked down.

She slashes her palms across her face beneath her eyes.

Not wiping away tears.

Never.

This must be her war paint.

She takes a breath in and holds it as she puppeteers her body upward with an unforeseen, formidable strength. 

Once standing she marches toward the whimpering before it becomes an inconsolable battle cry.

She breathes out, but only once she reaches his crib and sees him holding onto the rails trying to balance,, his chubby knees buckling. 

He is not quite one year in a body of his own.

She smiles; 

A faint yet genuine smile and runs one fingertip under her eye.

“What’s wrong? What is it, my silly boy?”

He wobbles his way to face the sound of his Mother’s beautiful voice he knows so well; he is the only one that ever really heard it.

They make eye contact, and for a moment, all was becalmed.

When she lifted him up and out of his crib, felt the warmth of his breath against her neck, closed her eyes, listened to that breathing and as her lips touch to kiss the golden crown of his head, they linger there

within his silken strawberry blonde hair. 

She inhales deeply his secret message.

She brings his face gently to her own and holds him there;

skin to skin.

She contemplates a response and then whispers in his ear…

‘I know my beautiful boy, I know.’

Silence for a moment,  another few breaths calming herself and calming her child. 

Then with an assured tone of voice and a look of certainty she continues,

“I love you.

I love you so very much.

“You are my prince and one day…

One day, I know, that I will be your queen.

I will be a great queen, I promise. You’ll see...

Then, one day…

You will be a King.“

She allows one steady crimson rivulet 
to trickle from her eye.

Binding their ivory cheeks in blood.

Mary Catherine,  Cowardice Queen

Just Me and Mr. X

"Family" is a loose term where I came from. I wish It wasn't so. 

Wish your way to fluffy clouds in the sky- Hold your breath.... and you'll get there. Keep holding. Fight your natural instincts, always! 

You will get your marshmallow sky. 

Did anyone else notice my mother always has and still to this day, 

in her wise old age:  SAYS DUMB SHIT: 
For Instance-

"YOU'RE MY LE - LE GIRL!" and "VOTE TRUMP!" 

But it's all forgiven because the "DUMB BROAD" means well.

That was Father's pet name for her. 

So Sweet! 

"YA DUMB BROAD!"

Right. She did the best she that she could...

Must forgive, you must.

Now, wait just one second! 
Perhaps it has always been a ploy, 

a manipulative skill she developed as the result of having a 

BIG STRONG DRUNKARD, 

U.S ARMY DADDY.

"Steady as stagger Frank."

My Grandmother said real cool shit. 

She was Sharp. A Sassy Dame. 

She would have been a real gun moll if...

Frank didn't come back from his helicopters! 

Salute! 

 Heil, Mein Führer! 

GOD BLESS AMERICA! 

Ahem. 

Excuse me I seem to have been choking for some time... 

My Grandmother was a real WOMAN. You know what I mean by a real woman? She had Jazz: Like Marlene or Bettie Davis. That jazz. 

She is laughing with me, she laughs at fools & she laughs at the absurd. 

She, however, is polite so you can't hear her... NOT ME!

So- Where were we? Right,

FRANK the "man" man (a father) and one-two-three older brothers, 

then out leaks this weak and sickly little squeak toy, squeaking 

"Don't hurt me! I'm so very small, Help me! I'm Powerless!" 

The Child that is my mother. 

She didn't even earn that title "Mother"

I AM CESARIAN!!! Brother is too 

The Titles.

Upper !! Mother Fucker.

He sawed her open to let me, a full grown fetus, out of that fucking uterus. 

Oogie boogie boogie! Hey, would ya look at that! 

I'm still bloody and pissed the fuck off almost thirty-one years later. 

Phew! (PRO-LIFE. WOOHOO!) 
Thank you Doc!

"God Bless" the U.S ARMY and all our fathers, my father, ghost man, ash man, carbon man, ( Shhh, they say I've got a wicked tongue...) 
My mother told me as much when I was a small child. 
Evil, mean, wicked; some of her favorite terms of endearment for the 1992 space-time version of me
Oh and lest we forget; Trump. yes, yes, we're all forgiven. 
Go Play With The Control Machines... 
Poor Mitchell. He is lost to me. You have kidnapped his personality too. 

For What??!!

All the family you had, the years you lived for free, warm, safe, with tons of spare time, more than one free sitter to choose from, like your brother in law in New York. 

(Who, I think is a good person. I hope I'm right for Mitchell and Devin's sake) 
He offered to help you get into a trade or go back to school... tsk, tsk! 

How do you look my children in the eye? 
I've been Wondering that. 

 I know I could. 
I know what the Fuck I Did and didn't do. 

Some things are impossible to forget, such is the pain...
 

 While you sat smoking pot,crunching  Lay's potato chips, drinking Coca-Cola: 

 A living advertisement for Everything I Hate. 

A putrid infectious growth from the furniture or the woodwork; your sibling's couches and in their basements.
What a shame. What a waste. 

Living as if you were the teenager- but you weren't, were you?
 

WHAT A SHAM you've got going!
SOME FUCKING LIFE THEY HAVE. 

The father provides, the father provides. THE FATHERS DIVIDE! 

You like math, providing much? Certainly not financially, but the real deficit in your provisions; 

You Neglect Them. In every way that there is a name for. 

Wikipedia that you pathetic monster.

 Go see what a great job you're doing. 

There I go again, damn. Silly me, I must get that from my mother. 

These useless thoughts.  But hey now! They say I have a way with words! 

That's real nice. Some say words like Forgiven. I gave up. Forgiven? 

SSSin like a snake... I Sin! Sinning and slithering my way to that ol' river. 

What river? The East River. East River Park, near the Seventh street bridge. 

Up and over- Timbo, watch me fly. 

My brother knows. He knows a great many things, I love him.

 I love my children, but far too much.

 Do You See? Do You Get It? 

GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR FUCKED! 

I digress, whoops. 

Words are only words, right? 

Tell them that their mother was sane, played the piano, she was in her second year at Smith through the Ada Comstock Scholars Program when she died tragically, 

the exact same way as Isadora Duncan. 

Give em that, will ya?

Then, I can have a little lie,

I really want one too.

There's my fucking Eulogy.

- Mary Catherine.

The Hell Before the Fury. -Interview Exerpt 2011-

 Did you guys do anything special for Valentine’s Day?

I was alone on Valentine’s Day. We weren’t really together-

together on that day.  Actually, my 

valentine was an overdose.

Oh. Fuck

Yeah, I was on cocaine and heroin. My dealer gave me a gift 

by giving me $70-worth of coke when I 

had only bought $40. I figured I would just push this as far

 as it will go. I put it all in the cooker at 

once and shot it and I had a seizure.

That sounds painful.

I actually came out of it feeling pretty good and wanted to 


do it again. Nobody else wanted me to though. 

They took care of me right there 

the seizure didn’t last long. Mark wasn’t there that 

night — I was hanging with my dealer and a couple other girls.

What was Mark’s reaction?

He told me shooting cocaine was no good and he asked me 

to stop because it’s crazy or stupid. You 

know, the general caring reaction.

Are you going to miss sleeping next to Mark tonight? Or do 

you think you’ll find him?

Well, we agreed to meet up at 10 o’clock on St. Mark’s and 

Second Avenue, and if he’s not, he’s in 

big trouble.

Do you think you guys are going to work it out?

I totally see us having a future — if we left New York 

and/or just generally got off the drugs 

and tried  to do the right thing and live a good life — the 

way we were meant to… 

or the way that 

would be most conducive to our happiness.

Why can’t you keep the love and the drugs?

Because they make people someone they’re not, and Mark is 

not a selfish junkie who lies; Mark has 

become that because of the life he needs to live to maintain 

the drug usage.

How do you know that about Mark if you’ve only known him 

to be a junkie?

Everyone has their light and everyone has their darkness, 

and his light shines through occasionally 

when the drugs aren’t as prevalent. The drugs have kind of 

taken over right now, but it doesn’t mean 

he has to be that way the rest of his life. 

-Interview by Peter Madson in 2011-

Full Interview

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen

To My Daughter

Dear Devin Jade,

I know that You love this song.

I paid very close attention to you when I saw you last.

you are so precious. 
I studied you. 

My thoughts are many...
I know where to start. 

I love you.

A small sentence; yet flows with a wild power when spoken by someone that truly means it. 

It is one of the most important things one could say to those we feel that way towards. 

So Say it as often 
as you think it. 

But only if you truly mean it.

 Saying I love you is similar to an apology, both statements should not be used carelessly.

To love is to not only appreciate but to cherish.
 I believe that we, all people, should always try to love everyone equally. That is a different kind of love, called “Agape Love” *  That is a difficult attitude to obtain and maintain, some people spend a lifetime or more than one, depending on your beliefs, to love all people with equal benevolence. 

I believe it is something to always strive towards. After all, each of us is suffering. 

We are breathing in the same air;

 bleeding the same color. 

I paid very close attention to you when I saw you last.

you are so precious. 
I studied you.
 My thoughts are many...
 I don't even know where to start, 
 I'll try.

I see how sensitive you are, how aware.

I wish I could shield you; from anyone or anything that causes you discomfort. 

but, we know that is impossible.

When someone hurts you;

try to keep in mind that there is always more than what meets the eye, Always a backstory...

So Many frightened, disappointed and lost people.  Sometimes it is those who seem to have everything you wish you had but never did; 

A super mom and dad who give a limitless amount of love, affection and support? 

Or maybe a girl at school who seems so perfect. Perhaps she always has the right clothes, perfect smile, says the right things at the right time, makes everyone laughs, all the girls seem to want to be her and boys want to marry her. 

but... Could there is something behind that?

Perhaps inside she feels trapped like a puppet being tossed around having to perform for everyone. Suffering is not always visible, but it is a guarantee that each of us suffers in our own way. 

There are going to be times when life may seem unfathomably harsh and without logic or any justice. “Fair?”  I urge you to dismiss the word.

Real life is chaotic, unpredictable and will seem to lack any logic. So, the word “fair” is useless. 

Please know one thing my child, those that feel pain deeply, love passionately, live with ferocity; they see beauty where others see nothing at all.

 theirs are the hearts that fill with love and compassion.

A heart like yours.

Use your gifts.

express those things whenever you feel them. 

The sensitive, the intelligent and the highly creative are the most likely to sense these things; it is more of a gift in the end and not a curse, though it may not feel that way sometimes.

I want you to know that I think of you every day and I miss you terribly. 

Know that you have a mother in N.Y.C that loves you unconditionally. 

I hope you know that you can talk to me with any question or problem you have.

I am here for you.

I Love You Devin Jade & hope and pray to see you soon. 

Your Mother, Mary Catherine. 

~ Vocabulary ~

*Agape - (Ancient Greek: ἀγάπη, agápē) is "love: the highest form of love, charity; the love of God for man and of man for God." Not to be confused with "philēo" – brotherly love – agápē  - embraces a universal, unconditional love that transcends, that serves regardless of circumstances.

A Transcribed Narrative of 'The Between'

I can hear this marching,

How I knew I failed –

With sound- then rivulets -the dark would come –

A door I kept avoiding –

Pleading with gods because I knew I failed
but never why – gooey, black rivulets of tar

seeping through that door, seeping through

where the hinges were –

darker darker darker –

silent mercy cries –

tiny light flicker taunting,

not to guide, it’s how I knew

I failed – like the sound made

When someone dies, the death toll –

The varied tests – decisions to save

This or that person –

This young beautiful girl – with a man,

It was revealed she was his mistress,

They both died in a car crash,

Illusion of her innocence stripped away, (that’s how I knew

It was real because they were total strangers, how could I know)

They were two souls passing through

the realm between worlds when I was, several others, not all at once-

One of many (tests?) – loyalty test, patience test, perseverance test –

“how long til she collapses from exhaustion?”

they were relentless with their digging – and terrified,

what was I doing wrong? Maybe a childhood imprint –

when the light I couldn’t look at went away – a darkness

not to be believed, an entity underneath the darkness,

light, lush grass and full blossoms wither- receding under that dark –

stuck in a tunnel, they’re drowning me, to test my will to live,

a flooded sewer system – a maze – rising water – move move move –

I got out – but – anyway – eventually succumbing

To spiritual exhaustion like invisible ropes,

They slowly lowered me – surrounded by blank morose people –

Lost souls? – watching me being lowered on a pulley – they were people

From many ages, watching in the bygone fashions of all eras and regions –

Someone (merciful fellow soul in limbo?) pointed me in the direction

To go –  then I Came Back? – after hundreds of failed tests –

In soul trouble, doomed – I gave up on the taunting tiny flicker –

-The deities expected me to figure it out

And they kept leaving me to grapple alone –

I wasn’t prepared to go with that thing

Where all was and was not – the nonexistence

Of fear and suffering but everything else too, a force

More powerful than the dark that wouldn’t stay with me –

I kept failing – I’d see people I knew, to test where my loyalties laid –

I was told my daughter was in an accident, car crash, urgent,

But all my street friends were going to die – had to choose –

The government was going to blow up their squat,

Instant demolition, Nickels was in there – had to choose –

I knew war songs by the time the EMT was there –

My body foul but I am not in it – I’m singing

These nothing battle songs I could’ve never heard before –

I said, “Lights in my chest, long as they’re there I’m okay,

They’re guiding me,” (the nurse didn’t understand)

Thought I saw a rat

But it was darkness

Chasing me –

Melodically humming then the hospital –

I was wearing my Zeus T-shirt –

Holding it, a circle not a circle –

That sound, those sounds, those eyes –

Manipulative eyes – speaking in language

I somehow understood – tricking me, being something

they weren’t – they said I had to do

ihis One Thing,

and that this thing, and not the light, would protect me –

they did a ritual, they were all dressed in ( I don't know) Asian attire?

I’d never seen before in life, closest thing I’ve seen were those monks

over in Chinatown asking people for money for this or that

Noble Cause, they concealed what/who was behind them,

didn’t tell me whole truth of what was behind – I shrunk back

(if the spirit can recoil in horror that is) finally I saw it –

couldn’t look away from its eyes – such power over me –

it revealed its non-genitals – “Now take of me" - don’t know

how I got away – O my God – that’s what I’ve been doing?

So wretched, so horrified, and it tricked me, it wore

Gold, shining, necklaces, the false ornaments

Of another world, like industrial chains, false bright

To seduce me with how easy it was (undeserved respite?)

The light off him came from artificial source –

Male not female, they were all male, those taunting beings

Giving me the test, lusting after me obscenely, awful,

There was even one when I was supposed to save

A demolished building – I chose wrong – “my daughter

doesn’t want to see me anyways” they all fucking died, all my street friends –

I chose wrong – anyways – severed corpses, dead after all,

Nickels- other streetboys, friends- that I knew from real life.

It speaks to you in your own language see?

The thing behind all others, hidden- 

the circle’s movement -

sounds like helicopter blades whipping through wind –

Force yourself awake! Thought it was a dream

But I couldn’t wake from it –

Thought it was D.T's but it wasn’t –

Horrifying – no one will believe this –

Just toxins in my brain? – everything.

Dark damp dreary – like being under a ship, moist,

Unpleasant, there were no smells –

Straw perhaps? everywhere, straw beds, people watching me –

On straw pallets, they were not scared or sad just watching,

another one fall- a human form.

Pulling me downwards past them – 

humming that odd between worlds song –

If I didn’t keep humming that song (chant?) making those circles

With my hands, then this golden light

That still kept me bound to life –

Some ancient shit –

Would snap, darkness kept chasing me –

Language doesn’t do it justice

Even if I use my entire lexicon-

It was just was far more vast – no words –

Have to use simplistic words –

Words that don’t quite cut it –

They are just closest words

To describe-

everything 

how the blossoming light would vanish and why.

Everything it touched became so pure, pretty –

Pretty’s the wrong word but there isn’t a right one for this,

---------------------------------------------------------------------

What was the trick? The darkness? Or the light beneath?

All I know is they were in total opposition.

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen

Transcribed by Erin Burley