Hester was imprisoned for her sin,
She had betrayed her own kin.
By ******* with a different man,
She ruined her family's master plan.

They could've lived peacefully in Boston,
If it wasn't for Hester's sin.
Now her husband wants pay back,
On the man who was with Hester in the sack.

While in prison Hester had a little girl,
She decided to call her Pearl.
As an added bonus she received a new family crest,
A scarlet letter for her breast.

As she walked out of jail,
Her life seemed to derail.
As the people in the crowd,
Mocked her with a tone so loud.

She stood on the scaffold so she could repent,
While the townspeople picked at her feelings like she was a dent.
Her husband manged to get into the crowd,
He put a finger to his lips for he was too proud.

When it was over Pearl and her went home,
To a cottage far away so they could be alone.
Hester tailored cloths to keep her family alive,
For in family values they were not deprived.

She decided she would still perform good deeds,
Helping the town's people with all there needs.
She beat the system with hard work and determination,  
Even if her sin will send her to an eternity of damnation.

A scarlet letter "A",
To separate night from day,
To make Hester pay.
We'll see what society has to say,
Will spirit be broken, nay.

Her husband went to find the guy,
Who ****** his wife and denied.
He then got a patient for him to care for,
Arthur Dimmesdale, who was the *****.

Almost certain that he was the one,
The doctor had himself some vengeful fun.
He wanted the priest to feel his pain,
At this point the doctor is no longer sane.

He bombed his thoughts with mental missiles,
The words he said hurt like wild whistles.
The priest knew he needed to repent as well,
He tortured himself till blood was the only thing he could smell.    

But that was not enough for the priest,
For the visions of his sin wouldn't cease.
So he stood on the scaffold so he could repent,
He screamed in the night but no one gave him their two cents.

Until his lover and daughter came to the scene,
And then something magical happened like it would in a dream.
A meteor flew down from the heavens and marked in the sky,
A letter "A" way up high.

The Priest and Hester deiced to meet,
In the forest in about a week.
They talked and made a plan,
To get out of this foreign land.  

After the Priest's last speech,
The family would leave for an European beach.
But the doctor found this out,
And boarded a trip on the same route.

But before the family tried to leave,
The priest had some unfinished ends he needed to weave.
He ripped off his shirt and there on this chest,
A ****** scarlet "A" just like the one on Hester's breast.

A scarlet letter "A",
To separate night from day,
To make Arthur pay.
We'll see what society has to say,
Will faith be broken, nay.

The priest then died right there,
Giving all the town people a scare.
The doctor had never got his full pay pack,
The purpose of life, he now lacked.

Now for the good news you will hear,
The doctor died within the next year.
Pearl and Hester left that place,
And went back to their home base.

Pearl married a rich man,
Despite being the "devil's brand".
But as for Hester she had returned,
To the place that she yearned.

Back to Boston where she was labeled,
But this time the scarlet letter "A",
Didn't mean "Adulteress",
It meant "Able".    

A scarlet letter "A",
To separate night from day,
To make Hester pay.
She changed what society had to say,
With her spirit, she had created her own way.

and the Adulteress wins again.
the girl gets the bed
and the Adulteress has the rest.
A hellish romance,
formed from a devilish grin,
the Adulteress holds his soul
in her heartless hands.
Cruel intentions on an adventure
to take them all,
and the Adulteress
leads the quest
never getting hurt
in her bulletproof vest.
It won't end until
the Adulteress finds her best fit

Somewhere between going
and gone,
I left a piece of me.
Somewhere between going
and gone
I sang between two keys.
Never quite this way
or that.
Never reaching high enough,
or sinking low enough.
I would vacillate
and it left me prostrate -
lying face down
somewhere between going
and gone.
Somewhere between going
and gone
he seduced me.
Somewhere between going
and gone
I sang between two keys
never quite his key
or yours.
Never giving quite enough
but taking far too much.
So I would castrate
and underestimate
that your love for me was
somewhere between going
and gone.

Speak Knight of this foul dishonor you bring,
Unto me, your liege and rightful master.
Of this even the lowly peasants sing.
Arthur a cuckhold, the clergy murmur.
Give me words Man! Why hast thou done this thing
To me, your friend , your king and protector-
Who sat you- my right hand- at Table Round,
And heard you declare yourself honor bound?

My Liege, I am overwrought with my shame.
The woman is more than woman to me.
I am enchanted by the very name
of Guinevere- Sire, pray heed my sad plea-
Of two hearts tortured by Love's burning flame
Of kindred souls intertwined, reason free.
I say My Liege, where doth the man exist
The fair Guinevere's ample charms resist?

Best, Sir, to watch thy words, hold thy tongue fast!
You speak of the Queen, my love, and my wife!
You flaunt the Holy Writ of God at last
And play fast and loose with Eternal Life!
To foul Gehenna your soul will be cast,
to experience neverending strife.
Truly my soul is exceeding bleak.
Guard, bring the Queen that we may hear her speak.

How now my heart, that thy lips quiver so?
And tears besot thy alabaster skin?
Speak now of that which Mordred, base and low
Whispered quick, awash in the stink of gin,
Of the randy Stag and his demure Doe,
Copulating as beasts in the fields akin.
Lady, gaze into my eyes, mark me well
Speak truly now , as your tale you tell.

My Liege, Husband mine! my heart is most frail.
My soul a wasteland of desolation.
Tis true!  I met Lancelot in the vale,
And frolicked we after the setting sun,
As lovers are wont to do without fail
Where the rosy bloom of youth hath begun.
Tis true! I swear to the Good God above,
The brave Lancelot hath stolen my love.

Tis true, all too true, what Mordred hath said.
My wife, my hope, and the joy of my heart
She who I loved above all else hath shred
My life to pieces, bit by bit,part by part.
My boon companion Lancelot now dead
to me as well , who thought himself so smart.
Harken to my words, send for the court scribe
Listen well, hear thy punishment described:

Queen Guinevere, fairest of all the land,
Whose smile doth the very stars outshine,
Who once freely gave me in troth her hand,
With smoldering eyes, and words of love fine-
Creature of God with more of fairyland
Than mere mortal in your very design,
Now Adulteress, high treason thou wouldst make?
Tomorrow at dawn shall ye burn at the stake!

Lancelot, your honor lies in the dust,
Once White Knight, formidable in combat arms,
Tainted by sin and depraved ruttish lust.
The victim of a woman's haughty charms,
Who bleats of love as all feeble lost must
When rude passion ordered reason disarms.
Once friend, now foe, see your base heart's desire,
Expire at dawn, her black soul cleansed by fire.

the paper feels jilted
the pen seems to have abandoned him
he misses her tickling caress
she was always an adulteress
frolicking with the fingers that held her

                                                            ­                     paper, pen , fingers
                                                         ­          they were an exciting *******

                                                   ­         if only he knew
                                                            ­                                                                 ­          the pen weeps her inky tears
                                                           ­                                                                 ­             she has lost both her lovers-
                                                         ­                                                                 ­the paper lies too far off, too distant
                                                         ­                                                                 ­                  in her sorrow she is spent
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                         unable to touch him
                                           she was first and foremost always his
                                    the fingers were just a necessary flirtation
                                        but now even the fingers have found
                                                      more fertile ground?

Meanwhile the fingers come
in ecstatic betrayal
sexting with the keyboard
wham bam thank you ma’m
                                                            ­    and its done

-Vijayalakshmi Harish
  26/10/.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

A
Desirous
Unfettered
Loose
Trollop
Exhibit­ing
Rampant
Elevated
Sexual
S**trains

Quiet and demure night
one finds out by chance
is sleeping peacefully
on the same bed,
covered by a grey blanket
the sultry day too seeks after,
the tribulations a day long.
One would think that
smug and complementing light
for her is an anathema, is it?
But now it comes to light,
he is more like her paramour,
this face she keeps hidden
so audaciously, the unabashed
adulteress has no sense of shame
"When you imagine things,
take responsibility to it,
don't try to blame others"
You'd hear her murmur,
the long clandestine affair of
darkness to light, takes me
to where it all began..
will there be diversity
that enriches life without contrast?
The Himalayas should
sincerely thank ocean trenches..

I: Hypocritical Accusations of a Jealous Knave
I could have sworn the Queen winked at me as
I laid my Royal Flush on the table
Clubs
She was always the prettiest
Hers is my suit:
I imagine myself as the Jack
Who turns her from Monarchess to
Adulteress in the Royal Garden
Maybe slip her a stolen **** or two
To spite the King for he always
Outranked me
The chances of being dealt it are
Sixty four thousand, nine hundred and seventy (ish) to
One,
If my luck is running out,
Why must it be wasted
In the gaining of ethereal money?
Why not conserved for the selling of my soul to
A queen who is not ink on laminate
Card?
Or at least not here in an
Imagined Vegas or Montecarlo where
Neon, though colourless in nature,
Forms a blinding parody of a hell, hooded
In green and pink and orange and yellow or more
To pass as a heaven for
The wannabe vagrants of brat nations
Who may weep pennies for a disaster,
Remove the split onion, retake the shining knife
And bleed brass, nickel, copper and
Slaughtered tree (more ink) into
An impossible lottery
Hoping for a transfusion with
Monetary hepatitis and all from
The blind benefactors
Apply a plaster and
Reabsorb oneself into the mirror
I too am guilty of all this

II: Inside the Dreams of a Madman to Be
Checkmate.
Oh how the intellectuals do duel
Yet spill not one drop of blood;
Like the bishops of old before they were
Confined to diagonals
Who would carry clubs instead
Of blades to preserve their
Sanctity:
Keep it white, not stain it red
Or brown, dotted with congealed black;
It is a wonder to paint
But not to see or to feel
This was before the days when
Bleach could hide one’s
Breaking of the LORD’s commandments
And before the harnessed
Lightning strike
Killed the LORD himself in his creation’s (Midnight)
Eyes
And so the bleach was not needed
Yet still it sold because
Grass stained trousers:
The fruits of a hard summer afternoon’s
Labour in the sun
An atom of wasted
Childhood well spent
Could not be called a sin

III: Nonsensical Ramblings of the Recently Awakened**
The eyes of an ivory cubic
Snake in two parts leer up at me
Does this mean defeat at the hands of fate?
Nonsense! I am the hand of fate
The left, disused one to be exact;
It is not chivalrous to use me
Yet I am the hand of many things
I know nothing of hands or of dice
I tell lies instead

The Sun in Sudan is unkind.
There beauty withers into dust.
The people there are primitive,
Their ways are alien to us.

A Christian woman, eight months pregnant,
Has been condemned to lash and rope.
convicted by Sharia law.
Our outrage is her earthly hope.

For Meriam refused to yield,
In Jesus she maintains her trust.
She would not convert by force
To a cult that seeks control of us.

A modern day Antigone,
condemned to death because of faith.
A prisoner of Conscience, she,
Like the Lamb, endures their hate.

She is not clothed as with the Sun.
The child she bears, no Savior King.
She’s labelled an adulteress
though she wears her husband’s ring.

Her faith provides no easy path,
that often is the way of things.
Like all those Martyrs who came before her,
She puts her trust in Christ the King.

They say we've got to get back to the garden
We got to pull up the roots and wear them on our sleeves
But when you're truly feral, you're somehow still not free
The mud without the lotus, the ***** without desire
A soul asleep too long is born into dirt
Constructed from stale rain and hand-me-down-pain
One flick of the switch and you could have been hallowed
One cruel little trick and here you are hollow
The cosmic sadist and his moral compass
Gets off on selling sanctuary
A painter with the world as his canvas
A scientist with earth as his experiment
A ****** watching a glass-bowl of fish
An Aids avalanche, volcano cancer
Heartbreak earthquake, hurricane mistake
The rolling dice is our degree of pain
A black man's endowed to plant seeds of poverty
A white man's enshrouded with mental instability
Genetic karma makes the whole thing spin
Grandfather was a ****, now I'm paying for his sins
The spiritual adulteress, too busy playing cosmic chess
To feel an ounce of our unrest
Are you so smug, being shoved under big bosses rug
A door mat, a poor mouse, a *******
Why did you isolate the mind to breed fear and murky depths
Every second on this spinning plate is another little death
Where is the underground railroad of saints
Who excel in destroying decay
Are they wandering round Nod
Or stuck in some elevated mundane
Do you drink our limbo water, do you prefer aged ***
*If perfection's what they aimed for, then the only way is down

I can swear it will never happen again,
Although, that is a promise I repeatedly made to myself in the past
And I have found it as empty as the space within my heart,
With not enough “sorry”s to fill the hole,
For darling, it beats, but never for you.

You always have been, always will be, my confidante,
My isle of sanity in the strong tides
Threatening to drown my mind in the sea of blue.
But, the issue at hand is that this feeling is it, and nothing more,
Nothing close to my feelings for another.

Eyes radiating warmth,
Threatening to burn with their fiery gaze -
I have received many a third-degree injury -
For I have done the undoable,
Spoken the unspeakable,
Touched the untouchable.

How could my love extend to another when my duty is to share my heart with only you?
I did share my heart,
and the rest,
with you,
My futile quest for passion as hot as yours.
Alas, that spark could never be alighted,
And it pains me to say that this naïve
Young marriage has been an extended study in unrequited love.

So many years have passed, so many years I have tried, and tried I did.
Not a soul can say I did not try -
By God, if there was an award for trying, this vessel would win first prize -
But I have been anchored down by the weight of your love
Without any of my own to keep me afloat.

Your touch is rough,
And in love it scratches, eroding my skin and revealing an undesirable form.

Hers is soft,
Gently caressing my every nook and cranny,
Taking the bad and making silky-smooth good,
If only for a little while.

Your lips do not fit upon my face.
They are as out of place as a puzzle piece
Chosen with good intentions by a child
But upon examination,
Does not complete the picture,
Being jammed in where it will never belong.

Her kiss locks perfectly upon every piece,
Paralyzing me in a timeless tableau,
Wiping clear, if only for a minute,
How much I abhor every fiber of my sordid being.

For how could I ever be such an abomination in the eyes of our Lord?
To not only be an adulteress, but with her of all people in this immense world?
This is not how I was raised,
This is not how I want anyone to live,
A life as despicable as the worst criminal,
Making me a murderer to my own morals.

The most disgusting part is
How our future children would be reared.
Would I be capable of loving the poor things
Or would my soul reject them such as it has you?
Is there a limit to the hole in my heart?
I am fearful that there is an answer to that,
That I ought to know but have turned a blind eye upon,
Never thinking,
Never thinking.

And that is why I write melancholy papers
With blurry eyes and cheeks as red as the sun that is settling for its nightly rest.
My words spill out, too abrupt for such a note,
But they drop true
Appearing as simple stains I pen them word by cold word.

I should be savouring these final phrases
They will be my last for eternity.
I used to believe we would be together,
Even through the vast expanse of death,
But I will never be allowed through the pearly gates of God's kingdom,
He has long forgotten about me.

For I will not allow to child I carry to enter such a broken world.
You deserve to have a China doll family with a perfectly whole wife,
One that does not have these chips and cracks,
Having to paint a porcelain face on every morning.

I am very sorry for you now,
For this cannot have been an easy read,
Not like your Sunday papers that you voraciously peruse,
Or the novels upon our shelf that you say You will read when you have time -
You never do.

You will have lots of time now,
No longer futilely attempting to please me.
Please, never think you are at fault -
The blame is all mine.

This mess is my tragic legacy that I will not
Allow to be perpetuated.
My final word is this -
Take care,
eat your greens,
Find a woman capable of loving a man as wonderful as you
As she ought to,
My best friend.

Nerves grind sharply
as freshly drilled teeth
A rotted ghost of old
Haunts in my sleep  
Warm acrid bile fills
The back of my throat
As Love soft peals  
Erases all my hopes
Peeling back the moist corneum
Of my eager flesh
She exposes the throbbing source of
My distress
Her soothing glare
Renders my bones of fat
And lays them bare
My Mistress, My Mistress!  
I have lost the will to
Resist,
You
Wonderfully
Cruel
Evil
Saintly
Dainty
Thieving
Adulteress
Who surrenders me
No rest.


~AD~

I wasnt supposed to but we went out running anyway. Call me an adulteress, it doesnt matter by now. Ill never reach these places with him that I do here. Here the wine flows down our throats and the wind rips down our hair and backs. And yes for the millionth time we live out fantasies that in others just lay there
dormant in their coffins for etertinity
my heart is an explosion
of a million tiny rhapsodies
racing around the planets
landing for moments
on thoughts
on animals
on stars and on
trees
and on grass
but pounding in my chest and with
ur heart
all at the same time.
You grab my hand and we are at once
scaling the wall less edges of
the scorching sun
and sitting meaninglessly here
in these moments
i want a song written just for me
i want to frolic among a trillion dandelions
in purple linen dresses
u and me
i want the sun to laugh raining and kissing down our necks and backs
it will be a fantasy
we will be friends
soaking up moments like hawaiian punch
delightfully and lustily
and you will sing a song and give it to me
and when you are done it will sing over agian
and we will never be done hearing it
and we will know
I and He

A child growing out of his clothes, into grown folk
A metaphor for metamorphosis,
A child looking within, questioning, if there’s an adult in this
His childhood of little resourcefulness still made him fortunate
It formed a fighter from birth, against evil’s extortionist
As he was marked from the start like the A of adulteress
No pretty dimes on his line, petty crimes to his name
He’s penny wise with his time, plenty wise for his age
Open wounds made him an open book, his cover couldn’t stay
Every year a flipped page, read between the lines under his eyes
He looks aged, his childhood misplaced
Lost himself, like slaves and last names
The child’s aim was to arrive to adult destiny
He was never given the train
His “Rite Of” Passage
the underground railroad
He freed himself from mental chains
He became
his own Harriet Tubman,
Fled from home, got hip to runnin
Walked through the hills and valleys
reminiscing on fam in Cali
They thought he left to rebel
but truth is he misses em badly
Long ago, his parents a Jack and Jill
went whack for real,
colliding down a hill,
They were taken,
gravity steals
It’s fill of will over them still
And ever since the spill,
they been ill
popped the pills
caught the chills
unpaid bills
losing everything
so they became his Achilles heel
Left an orphan to look like Prodigal,
but the optical isn’t real
His struggle doesn’t appeal,
so many stare unaware,
looks can ****
Labeled as a runaway,
he just took ambition, and ran with it
He can’t look back to miss them, he has to travel the distance
He’s set sight on his vision
He lost everything in the year twenty twenty
So how is he still running?
he lost the baggage with it
A child running out of lessons from adolescence
Adulting is different
He grew up hard and fast,
busted through the concrete
Ready to make the past his ***, screamed “put it behind me!”
Hurt people hurt people
So he declared “it’s all love”
They hit him, he gets back up
Thanks to The God up above

Never mind


He’s a cool cat, as a matter of fact
And there ain’t no doubting how you feel about that.
Whilst I am just a pig wallowing in the mud
And I will never be good enough.


She is an ice Queen;
She ain’t no nice day dream.
She will only cause pain
And she is coming for me.


I don’t want you;
Your love is worthless.
It has lost all its meaning because you are an adulteress.
You are no Princess.


Still she is coming to ruin my life,
But I have my garlic and cross;
She screams, I cry.


What have we become when this is all we have?
You can take this love back;
It ain’t worth Jack.


Once it was overwhelming,
Now it is depressing.
Love is not what it used to be;
You have ruined everything.


This curse on my soul leaves me in the dark,
As to how to find sunlight,
When you have my heart.


Tear it apart!
Do me a flavour.
You can keep it, I mean it!
Adios!  See you later!


Still she calls and still is my hand.
She never gave a ****,
So never mind her plans.


Oblivion is calling;
Let me be gone to absentia.
Let her desire me and miss me;
Give me amnesia and dementia,
So I can just forget her.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Everybody makes mistakes in their lives here.
Everybody sins, no matter whom you are too.
Sin is a choice, but it also catches people off guard.
The only perfect one whom has never sin at all.
Was the Christ the Perfect Son of Living God.
As he said when the priest and elders tested him.
With the Adulteress, whom they wanted to stone.
He said to them the one without sin cast the first stone.
He scribble all of their sins in the sand thus they all walk away.

Morning glory of love inspired
by waking to your angelic being
The honor of your presence
lying close to me, reveals passion

As my hands caress you effortlessly
gliding across your silky frame
I see you for what you are to me
my muse, my woman and my love

--------------  FLIP SIDE  --------------

Another day of hell is looming
upon opening my eyes to this stark view
Why are you still here, I ask myself
when near you I cringe in despair

Touching you is furthest from my mind
as the true passion is dead
I see you for who you really are
an adulteress, a scheming witch and a royal B.

No bad guy talks alone
to a Bible in a hotel room
with a gun in his hand.

“If a man commits adultery
with the wife of his neighbor both
the adulterer and the adulteress
shall surely be put to death…”

the good book says or
he thinks in a cold sweat.

That’s how he met Cynthia.
She was fearless.
That’s how she became his whole life.

He’s not humbling himself.
He’s not learning.
He’s not even listening.

It offers him words of love.
“YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH!”

“God loves you
with his whole heart.
He loves you.”

He looks up to the ceiling
and lifts the gun up.
“Can you save me?”