It Hurts, but It Doesn’t Harm

I’ve received emails from Wicked Darlings who wanted to know if “hurt and harm weren’t just two different ways of saying the same thing?” I replied that it wasn’t, and promised, that once we finished gifting the cruellest month with our poetry, we would discuss Hurt vs. Harm at length. For the purpose of this prompt, “Hurt equals physical sensation; and Harm refers to physical injury, damage or illness.”

So, my Luvs, keeping that in mind, on day 8 of NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Weave a poem that explores the difference between hurt and harm.


* Leave a link to your poem, as a comment. Include the title of your entry, and the direct link of your post. Example: “NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015”: Visit other Wicked Darlings and comment on their yum. They might visit you back (it’s polite).

* If you use this prompt, please link it to your post. And if you are feeling extra delicious, link your poem to the main entry. Show others where to go. Spread the word. Linking back to the source will make martyrs all over history hurt a bit less. It would.

Joan of Arc, by Michelle KennedyJoan of Arc”, by Michelle Kennedy
“done on a washed up, sea ravaged piece of driftwood”.

The Maiden of the Waters

Their oak and pine sailed the liquid salts,
and entered her land with lies, irons and steel…
before she could smell the disease in their blood,
the bloodthirst in their hearts,
their heartless intent.

She warned the Chief; but
his advice-givers reminded him
that the Witch Priestess had rejoined the land…
before saying that a mere maiden
could walk the steps of a Crone.

“I hold the comb,” the maiden said.
“Grandmother sang into my soul.
If you don’t let me sing the words,
the land will swallow our people’s flesh
and strangers will step on their broken bones.”

She continued to ask, but no one listened.

After death thickened the wind,
the Maiden sang the Crone’s words to the river…
and the water filled with breath.

Holding on to a procession
of open eyes and ears,
she descended into water-shielded caves.

When the moon is full of silver,
the Maiden of the Waters swims to the surface
to detangle her long black hair
with a comb made
of Grandmothers’ golden songs.

Process Note: The Indians of the Waters is a Dominican myth that speaks of a group of Taínos, indigenous people, who escaped the slaughter and disease introduced by the Spaniards. The myth says that these Taínos found refuge in underwater caves, and they continue to live there peacefully. During full moons, women of The Waters come to the surface to detangle their hair with a golden comb (conditioner must be scarce in the caves?). Different versions of the myth suggest that during the hair detangling escapades, the women also manage to seduce and kidnap men from the surface (it seems detangler is not the only thing running low in the caves).

NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, Day 7 – This Poem Is a Myth: Conjure up a poem that describes a person, creature, or thing from any mythology.

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

Woman Moonvia
(artist unknown)