A poem dedicated to a teacher who I hurt greatly through my writings |
“A Note to Ms. Oberle” by Danielle Piper Bloom If the world were to echo, Its voice would resemble you; So absolute, a starlet-gaze, Rubies as dark as a reindeer nose To honor Jesus’ birth. And I began to question nothings, Believing that your love would save me; It wears only white cotton, And I feared I should drown in questions Until the apple of your eye embraced. Then when you, in the icehouse of cold folly, Rallied to get me away from you, I cried as a dead man with one fish-eye Big above an island of Japan; Big as an owl above a cooking mouse. And you killed me like that mouse, Frying my hell-bound heart in a skillet like a baby. I cried for you, my Madonna muse! But you spared no pity for that heart, Nor for the mind that kept it beating. And it exhausted me to think of you; Your half-red smile with your pillars of white; That which I loved you for. Yet I also loved you for how you grew and lived Among those who did not believe me for. If the world were to echo Its voice would resemble you. The children, so innocent, so unlike me Would worship you For all the world has done for you. |