Saturday, July 11, 2009

Saint Joan Of Arc

Saint Joan of Arc returns from the battlefield.

Inside her armor, she is filthy and bloody.

An arrow has been removed from her shoulder--

It throbs and she is so tired that she would like to lay down in the tall grass and sleep for a week.

Senior commanders, all men, have dismissed her, humored her, and smiled behind their beards at her.

She has broken the siege of Orleans in nine days.

They do not ask her to be a dear and go fetch coffee anymore.

Saints Margaret and Catherine speak to her, as does Michael the Archangel.

When she gets home, she tosses her sword in the back seat of her old Renault with her good arm,

And anticipates that her lover will wash her hair for her, kiss her injured shoulder and whisper, "Never mind. You are my Joan and you are home now."

That's when she sees that someone has spray-painted "dyke" across the driveway.

That's when she sees the ecclesiastics peeking out from behind their curtains all up and down the street, like so many old biddies.

It is the fifteenth century.

Saint Joan of Arc is nineteen years old, and there is a rainbow flag next to her front door.

She has done her duty, given to her by God.

She has saved France from the English.

She has a girlfriend waiting inside, and a wounded shoulder.

She burns.



Kay said...

very nicely written

Riot Kitty said...

Wow, I wish I could write like you.

Shadow said...

the crossing of time confused me a bit. but! honor those for what they do, don't nail them for their beliefs!

Lou said...

Somethings have not changed since the
15th century..

except that one does not see many Renaults these days.

Scarlet said...

What a thought-provoking peace. Beautiful!

Daryl said...

Its beautifully expressed but how sad such an ugly act had to be its inspiration xo

Pouty Lips said...

Some things never change. I pictured the entire scene from beginning to end, and I felt a lump in my throat when I read about the driveway graffiti. There's something terribly wrong with some people.

pheromone girl said...

Where did I leave my hairbrush...?

Phenomenal. It makes me want to go to war.

Paula said...

Hi, re-read the comments over at Lou and had a good laugh about the misspelling of "misspelled". Wont misspell it again. I am sorry that my English isnt that great. I do strive to improve. However German and Spanish are the languages I use every day. I am glad you found sobriety. Greetings across the pond

Just Be Real said...

Excellently written. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing. ♥

Anonymous said...

We have come a long way. We still have a long way to go, but at least there are no more fires (at least in the literal sense).

Mama Zen said...

Oh, Shay, I hope that this is only a product of your brilliant talent and imagination and not inspired by some act of meanness and stupidity.

Everything okay, there?

Gillian said...

I wonder about the spray painters...was the message to inform Joan of something? Or is it supposed to be a statement?
If someone wrote CUPCAKE across my fridge, do you think I'd stop eating them? No! :)
Am I making any sense whatsoever???

Haters hate themselves the most. You are loved here!!! xoxo

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Fantastic poem.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Sorry, that comment sounded as if I was ignoring the content. Not so!

I'm sorry about the spray painting and the Commanders; I'm glad about the girlfriend and the rainbow flag.

I'm sorry about the pain of the wound, and glad about how well earned and honourable it obviously was.

Certifiablockhead said...

hail your Joan Of Arc...her fire rages still...