I Am My Mother’s Daughter

by Elvira

Her name:                                           Notorious
first, not                                              lost to love
the Head                                             in Real politics
As once                        said:                 the Bigger the Lie
the faster the credence.
The More famous                               the Accuser,
the                                                       quicker the Acceptance.

Ermine                                    encased,          she
stood               before her Judges:
Janus ever                   haunting          a court hall.
No crown, nor scepter            adorns             her body —
only the tacit reminder                       of Courtly Passion.
The only Living Issue,                          swaddled in Pink:
with russet hair                                   later, not her own.
denied             accepted
denied
crowned.
The Babe in Arms                               cries for Regal
Blessing, but                                        as her Bastard Sister
pushed             aside for
an unborn boy
The Mother                 plotted             for her rival’s
death;              but
received          a headless
tribute in                                             its stead

Half sister,                                           also accepted
denied
accepted
All at Behest                                        of Father King
I                                   trust, not         honored
words                                                  of Prevaricators,

For We                                    all know           the ephemeral
nature of                                             our being

What                           is                      Truth —
and, who                     possesses         It?

Sir Iarus                       morphs            to Devil/God
I, also                           disassemble    my Worried
Words,
For                                                       ALL MEN
sin                    in thought or Action

And, now                                             the Lifeless Eyes
are closed       for ever
becoming
haunting          Ghost,
no one                         can touch.
A Lie                            believed          does not
ally                  a conscience —
for Only God               knows              the Truth

And, now                                             that I,
My Maker                   meet;               and as He
weighs             my soul corrupt
Bloody Henry
Bloody Edward
Bloody Mary
embrace          Bloody Lizzie.
But remember:                                   the Victor
writes              the Truth —
that                              change,           as a kaleidoscope
on Who                        manipulates    the glass.
But God,                                  Remembers
Only                             knows              Veracity
disguised         as Lies.

November 2013

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