At times the Devil wears a neutral face--
sneaks in, unnoticed,
through the maternity ward
of some trivial suburban hospital,
to quietly hibernate in human form
like a benign tumor waiting to sprout;
the smallest seed of malice
cultivated with neglect, death
and all the sour stones
from forsaken battlefields. It feeds
on the flesh of fallen soldiers.
Lucifer is manifest in feckless men—
the weary cog whose teeth have been worn raw,
the drifting ship who cannot come to port,
the walking corpse who feeds on others’ life—
each cursed to stare with hollow, vacant eyes
upon their own cruelly obscure complexions.
I wonder, do they see their own reflections
when they peer into looking glass?
Or is it too pure, and they are too blood-hungry
to make the image focus in that grace?
How sore to never see your own wan face,
how sad, not knowing what you truly are.
I pity all the world’s greatest oppressors.
I’d like to ask them,
Does Beelzebub make a good bedfellow?
Does he pay rent on time, and give his dues?
Or does he rape you like a beast,
incapable of making love,
Rendering you as impotent as he has been
since serpents slithered ‘round that tree in perished Eden?
Is it with pain—or passion—that you moan
when he digs a dirty claw beneath your flesh,
weaving wasted fingers through your skin and soul?
Do you sense that widow-making touch?
Or is fear for feeling so vast
It makes you numb?
Oh you, I am not green for your power,
Only serving as to lay bombs in your wake,
many of which you have failed to escape—
they weaken your remnant sensitivity,
and I am a garden of sensation
even in a dead zone.
Author notes
This is a rethinking of my poem "After the War." I am considering adding this to the portfolio I'm submitting in the passionate attempt to win one of the 18 seats in an advanced poetry workshop (the Undergraduate Iowa Writers' Workshop.)
Some have read this and thought it to be political. If you want to see it that way, you can. For me, it's about my father, an ex boyfriend, and a guy who tried to rape me soon after I arrived at college. I realized how empty those men are, and I also realized that they were ruling me from afar, through my memories and heartbreaks. I wrote this in reaction to them, like an epilogue to the story of their tyranny over me.
But don't let the sentiment fool you. I would GREATLY APPRECIATE critical comments!!!!! I need to make this AWESOME so I can get into the UIWW and figure out more poetic ways to denounce them 
So please, for the love of all that is holy, leave me a critique.
Written November 30th, 2005
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I haven't read the original, but I do like this. It brings a lot of imagery and thought to one's mind. Thanks for sharing it with us on AP. ^_^
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Why thank you!
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P.S.
About that mirror stanza...No , I think it's alright where it is. Especially seeing as the minor edits brought things much closer to the front. Things are much more vivid when you reduce parts a little. Tightening up the editing. Again , this is starting to come together so well.
I'm very proud to have been of some help.
- James
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Now this. This is so much better from the original. The first stanza is simply breathtaking...On a whole the part seems so much more concrete and amazing. Each stanza now is almost a powerhouse. This is looking so good. You should really be proud of this one.
I advise you to feature it. Well done with the changes. Really well done! I believe I'll bookmark this for later reads.
- James
Edited on Nov 30, 3:01 p.m. because ''.
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