She stares with vacant eyes, poised between the urge for syringe bliss and the cold dirge of groping hands. Where did it start, that downhill poison slope? In her pernicious glass prison, where she’s valued only for the firmness of her breasts and for the softness between her thighs? In this world where selfies and abuse is graffiti painted on her skin. Or was it that first injected bliss that star-shot her into orbit of an older lover’s arms? Or was it even earlier, much earlier in those pony-tailed caresses that her step-father coerced from her? She’s ceased to care and hate the world almost as much as she hates herself.
Yet at spring she’s listening to bird-song and scratching her eczema.
Today at dVerse Meet the Bar (bar opens at 3 PM EST) , I’m hosting and presenting the haibun. Well known for many, but I also want to see what we can do on a more experimental level. Myself I continue to explore the possibilities to combine prose with American Sentences. I’m also linking this to Angela Goeff’s Visdare challenge. I found the picture quite discomforting.
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May 29, 2014
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Reblogged this on stgreenie.
Wow, you have an incredible way with words.
Thank you Kathryn
Hard hitting words. Like an incredible guitar solo, hitting all the right notes, in a run down part of town. Very well done.
Thank you, and so many thanks for introducing me to haibun.. I’m curios what the dVerse folks will do here…
i think much of our culture plays in and adds to it…the selfie…the gratification of immediacy….i think the question is apt…how did she get here…how did we get here…
Still the first step on a downward slope.. Those small steps.
So sad. great portrait you have written here, Björn.
Thank you Belinda..
Goodness, Bjorn. You hit a couple of long-forgotten nerves there! Strangely comforting, in that I had forgotten them so completely. We are a patchwork of our experiences, are we not. Sometimes, the seams need mending… Great, dark and evocative. I shall get my thinking-cap on.
Dark is one way of saying it.. I also thought about the bell-jar a little when I wrote it…
Yes, that was my first thought on seeing the picture!
You bring back the humanity to those whom society wants to dehumanize. Perhaps if these women were thought of as humans, rather than items to be used, the sex-slavery industry could end once and for all. Great piece!
We have to extend compassion.. Sitting with high morals condemning is a larger sin than whatever she might have done..
and all too often, the girls involved have been forced into it. Sure, they might have made a few poor choices along the way…but who hasn’t? Exploitation is never OK.
it is sad – abuse often sparks that downward spiral – and it’s tough for a woman then to love herself and put up a stop sign for the men that only want to use her
Yes indeed it does.. Sometimes it starts very early.. Other times it goes quicker..
I love the weaving of prose with American Sentence ~ You have told a story sadly happening to our young women, that downhill poison slope is hard to change after a while ~ Some of them don’t care anymore ~
Yes I love weaving them together.. And yes at the end all that remain is loathing
Whew, what a portrait you have presented with us, Bjorn. Sounds indeed like a very painful way to live, and one does wonder how this person ended up this way. The pain IS palpable in your words.
Yes… often it starts way to early.. way too early.
Very powerful and painful, Björn. We do wonder when the downfall starts. When I taught in middle school I once or twice wondered about some very sad-looking girls. I hope I was mistaken.
So sad.. there are those children.. and always after the fall we say we always knew.. sad truth.. but we are also wrong in many cases.
Great illustration of your prompt, brother; and so ambitious, combining American Sentences with prose; thoroughly enjoyable & thought provoking. I went with a similar theme, sex & violence in Art, especially in films; as a spin-off of my new avocational stint as a movie reviewer on a Horror website.
I find the american sentences work extremely well in my dark haibun.. so yes it’s my modern way of letting Basho and Ginsberg meet.
Your discomfiture at the picture has inspired an impressive haibun, which itself is full of uncomfortably visual imagery. The connection is very evident.
Thank you Viv.. as a matter of fact my first thought went to Sylvia Plath when I saw the picture…
Completely understandable!.
A powerful piece Björn. Of late, for reasons of my own, I have been giving much thought to those coerced into the slavery of the sex ‘industry’ and how well you condense my thoughts…
Kudos.
Anna :o]
it’s a story where we as human beings need to walk into those high-heel shoes and feel the pain.. at least in our thoughts.
The image of the bell jar in my mind, this was so palpable..it’s no wonder adelescents harbors so much until they give up or hurt someone else or themselves… we don’t care enough to find the
sources of their pain and treat them well.
Yes.. so easy not to see beyond those moods and tempers..
Who can tell where it all began? I love to see it end here, though, in the lovely words of an honest poet.
Some days that happens.. Yes we can always hope.
I really like this piece. So sad. The imagery is spot on.
Thank you Katie.. It would be great to have you back at the bar.
The last line, the American sentence, is awesome.. nice to be back in your world.. dark though it often is..and I mean that in a very good way.
So glad to have you back
The portrait you paint is painful. How can humanity be so inhumane? I guess there is no answer.
Thank you George.. I think it starts with dehumanizations – if we could see them as humans and not use blame things would change.
Gosh Bjorn! All too real in present day situations. They are not safe alone! Great word craft!
Hank
Or maybe safer alone – it seems like those close to her are her worst enemies.
Bottled. I forget which scifi I read that buried people this way but the jars sighed! Horrors. And so she is, at least in a syringe, for all te above reasons. Powerful.
Indeed.. Yes that description from Sylvia Plath of how it feels – I used it shamelessly.
I sad tale, well told. I like the hopeful note in listening to the birdsong in the American Sentence.
I think nature can always bring us back. At least I hope so.
Bjorn, Rather sad and dark but realistic. —Susan
Works well combined with the American sentence … very powerful, together and standalone. Strong emotion … and thanks for the nice intro to the haibun form, great job, Bjorn 🙂
Thank you Loredana. haibun is one of my favorite forms…
Thanks for pushing me into trying one of these. I’m watching the French Open match that is probably better than any men’s final could be [Federer vs Tuv], so late with commenting. Still smiling at your backpack comment on my post earlier this week.
Ah.. yes the backpack — 🙂
Bjorn, this is, as are the other things you write, beautifully written and ineffably sad. I don’t know what American sentences are, but since I’m just about to leave the house for a short weekend trip, I’ll have to find out more about them later. The saddest thing is that there is so much truth in what you write. I can’t wait to have time to read all the other haibun. It will be a great learning experience for a haibun newbie!
janet
American Sentences are an invention of Allen Ginsburg, trying to modernize the haiku.. it’s basically just a 17 syllable sentence, but it should have that tension you also should have in a classic haiku.. a juxtaposition between birdsong and eczema in my case…
In spite of the life she leads, she hopes for a song…that is hope. Beautiful.
A surprising choice of topic; beautifully expressed.
Your words are stark and brilliant. The image is disturbing, as if she has been preserved there for later consumption.
It twisted my guts..so cruel but at the end there is a hope..which gave some solace..
you write so beautifully
the world is a shocking place. Especially these days. At least you are speaking up for her.
Such a sad account, Bjorn. Well-written and calls on us to go beyond superficial judgments. If we knew the stories underlying appearances, how would we really respond.
I am not particularly religious but that at least I learned from the bible.. that we have to look beyond appearance… ..
It’s tragic. Sadly this is way too realistic for many people.
It begins early, the emotional and physical poisoning.The hands expected to help are sometimes to first to harm. That last line, killer.
Ah. yes the american sentence, I use as an alternative to a haiku.. that works well with some themes…
This is painful…I detest that any young innocent people end up in that bottle of poison. So sad. You outline well the differing roads that might prod someone in such an unfortunate direction.
Well done and thank you for the challenge!
Oh, how sad and tragic. And it is sadder that she seemed not to care anymore.
That image is disquieting, as is your well-written prose. Both tug at my empathy strings and I desperately want to save her.
Oh wow, such a powerful and tragic piece…a wonderful piece of writing. The listening to birdsong while scratching her eczema is just heartbreaking.
OMG…this is too scary condition………..you expressed it so well…….when will women be respected…..
A painful snapshot, masterfully rendered. Well done, my friend.