Why a womon on the cross? This image is No redemption song or comparison to Jesus Christ This image is not the focus on the death of Jesus rather, it’s a call To arms to address societal ills that feed domestic violence and Often supports the place of womyn and the role of men There is no vanity in domestic violence No perfect snapshots of pretty Intimate partner violence is distorted images of love This image is life No imitation of art Life, not just for the sake of being Not for the sake of redemption or blaming the victim for her own demise But for the sake of healing and truth Domestic Violence is ass whippings Brains smashed in with words and fists Back hand slaps Burnt bodies And rug burns from her being dragged from the living room to the bedroom dripping wet blood Half-clothed or naked— pregnant, being kicked in the stomach Syllables splattered of unworthiness Intimate Partner Violence is the slamming of dicks against vaginal walls Or fingers puncturing cervixes Domestic Violence is prison walls and mug shots not Mac gloss or Vanity Fair cuz she killed his ass for him beating hers No pretty images with perfect poses, perfect skin, or hand placement Domestic Violence is distorted images of pretty by way of silenced sacrifices No intent of being the controversial anti-christ or blasphemous but sacrificial lamb Dignity lynched Sense of self hand washed in thorns and hung out to dry on the cloths line of staked crosses Domestic Violence is subtlety The pinning down of power and the perpetrators outcries of “You made me do it” “I am the only one who loves you…You know I love you, right?” Domestic Violence is mind games Hacked computer passwords Hiding of sexy clothes Push and pull of verbal gymnastics “I’m your only friend…” Isolation Closed doors Others ignoring public displays of abuse Domestic Violence is bleeding out hearts Family scrapbooks of generations of cycles of abuse Heads down Threatened not to tell how her hands have been pierced And strapped to bedpost not in kinky foreplay but in forced submission No love taps of playful cat and mouse But x’s, o’s and number signs that criss-cross bodies DV is history 1890s lynching Most often that occurrence was of Black men nailed, Burnt and maimed on a tree or a cross burning and noose crisp and white But what if it were predominately womyn lynched? 1892 Ida B. Wells a womon Two friends lynched by a mob and she became a anti- lynching crusader But what if it were her, negress warriors being lynched? Would the outcries for a womon been the same Would the anti-lynching crusade been as committed if womyn were being mutilated And today, what if there was no more procreation? Or wombs dried up from being punctured so many times by violence? Sistas are killed, beat, raped, go missing all day everyday and no one does anything about it Violence against womyn is lynching… Shame She will not be silenced Existing in 3rd person She will see herself she in the first DV is imperfect snapshots on billboards To cover up the downward pour of bleeding wombs that hang from noose and stakes She maybe corporate Well-to-do Poor Or scraps of herself hanging from tired rags Black, brown or white Pretty or ugly Fat or skinny Womon loving womon Or womon loving man Or man loving man DV is hand on hip in disbelief DV is contorted hands and eyes made of glass that have been bashed in—shattered— cuz she hasn’t found the strength to leave yet DV is a smirked look of stoicism with nicks on the face saying “enough is enough” and evoking Fannie Lou Hammer “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired”   DV is a head thrown back and calling upon no better help that she knows DV is the day to day life and death of body and spirit Of womyn and children who are eyewitness to the travesty DV is pimping out of the soul High on meth, crack or evil spirits Intimate partner violence is the talented and untalented 10th There is no discrimination So I say this not as an attack of pretty camouflaged violation I say this with the memory of my own mother choosing herself and me, Not him I say this with the vivid memory of him going outside to take out the garbage with only pajama bottoms on and her locking the door behind him and putting the chain across the top— not letting him back in I say this as a womon Survivor of rape Tricked penetration Verbal and emotional abuse That I once had no name for Cuz sistas and elders didn’t talk about their own ass whippings and dysfunction Often just passing judgment hoping that her shit stank worse than ours I say this as an eyewitness to sistas Gasping for breath And a drag queen running down the street naked to escape another blow or word So often sistas think we’re hiding But Ive seen your eyes, your pain, your wounds, dried blood on the corners of your mouth I’ve seen you hold your rib-cage when laughing, cuz it hurts… I’ve seen ice packs on jaws, Dislocated sockets, missing teeth, and babysitting traumatized children. I say this having held brain meat oozing from ears trying to push it back in with a bit of self worth And I say this holding all participants accountable for their actions I say this for the teenage girls that feel powerless. The image of a sista being sacrificed is an outcry…no victimized innocent. A womon’s suffering is not a justified consequence of being womon, vulnerable and at the mercy of God-fearing men. This image challenges the hierarchical structures that brought about the Suffering that happens on the cross as a result of racism, sexism, classism… The artistry is not for show and tell nor comedic entertainment or Jet’s beauty of the month posed perfect with airbrushed finesse. A Christian womon looked at the image long and hard She focused in on the blood, with her hand under her chin She nodded her head in affirmation And with the softest of voice she said, “You can’t be scared to tell the truth.” poem and image © 2009 AquaMoon (camil.williams and veronica precious bohanan)