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The Wives
At one point I must have had some idea of writing a series of poems based on the voices of legendary or historical women. Here's another one, "The Wives."
THE WIVES
LEAH
I am Leah, the older sister
the cow-eyed, unwanted
who held Jacob alone
for seven short years.
I loved him alone.
For seven short years
I loved him alone. Jacob.
My hero, my god. My bedmate,
my friend.
But my father loved me. It was not
tradition that web me to Jacob, rather
the light in my eyes, the one my father
saw bright as I watched
Jacob leap in the air, dance by the fires,
sing to the goats.
They did not tell you that, did they,
that this man touched by God
touched my heart as well -
that watching him dance
They name me cow-eyed, dull
but I have had children. Seven bright eyed
monsters shouting in the sun -
they laugh with their sister, the strong-armed boys
watch them laugh with their sister
And for seven short years
I held Jacob alone
And remember this: it was my idea
to put the spotted rods near the white ewes
to make them bear spotted children
I gave him his wealth.
That I learned this from my children
who unloved in pregnancy came unloved into the world
and grew up unloving
All save the first and the last;
the first so wanted, the last so gifted
RACHEL
And another month I bleed. Ah me
Those seven years, when he slept with Leah
claiming he loved me.
But oh, I saw his eyes, the satisfied light
when he crept from her room
the look I saw
BILHAH
I have been here before. A slave
visits the bed of many, and I had known so many --
lying with the herdsmen, with the camel driver
with Laman, your father. You are surprised?
Ah, Rachel, why did he give me to you
if not for to spy --
to watch in the darkness, to tell of your love
to tell if his daughter
enjoyed her bed?
And who better to tell him
than his lover a slave
while she moved over him, laughing
singing his pleasure?
Even old Isaac, nearly dying, has looked at me,
eyes gleaming, watching my swirling hips,
my tongue dancing over my wine-soaked lips,
and I have run my hands through Esau’s hairiness
rejoicing in its splendour, touching every light hair --
but that was later, when we had returned
to the barren land, with sheep and goats
and Esau watched you, my lovely, childless or not,
and his eyes burned, and burning,
reached for my hand, my mouth, my breasts
and I gave them gladly, grasping his chest
as if it were yours, ready
to give you more children,
more fruits of my love.
Nor had this been my first time
to warm Jacob’s feet, a woman who would
pleasure him gently
and speak to him not of love.
Ah, Rachel, you blink?
Yes, I knew him before,
when Leah groaned heavily
waiting for labour,
and you still a virgin,
unpaid for, untouched,
he came to me restless,
needing my body,
my mouth
always his lover
And then you gave him to me
seeking a child.
How we laughed at that,
And yet, as I loved him,
licking his nipples, hearing him groan
I thought of you, my lovely, my friend,
my beloved. Rachel the loved. And I believed
for a moment that it was you I pleasured
you I groaned against, your nipples I fingered.
What trick this, Rachel? Do you not see
that Dan and Naphtali
are truly your sons?
RACHEL
Dan and Naphtali
suck at my breast
and find nothing
LEAH
My breasts have never run dry.
ZILPAH
Did no one know I loved the herdsman
with his strong wide feet, his gentle hands, his laughing mouth
his tender lips? Did no one know
that I hoped to wed in the barren lands
and with my lips and hands
make him forget the other,
the slave-girl Bilhah?
Did no one hear my scream
when Jacob entered, unwarned, unwanted
as I dreamed of the herdsman?
You have been given to me, he muttered
as his hands pounded, leaving blue bruises.
I need another son. Leah will
have no more. And so I wept,
screaming. Rachel, he once moaned on me,
Rachel, and Bilhah, and then struck me.
Why do you not
move in my arms? I wept.
I have had three other women
and all moaned against me. Wait.
He spent that night with me, and others,
holding me closely, kissing me gently,
You dream of the herdsman he said
as he moved above me
and I could only nod weeping.
Give me a child,
and I will give you your herdsman
I strained against him, calling out
his name in agony, a gift and curse.
I'll give you your child. And he took him,
my Gad, my good fortune, my son.
And kissed me most tenderly,
before you and the herdsman
and Rachel's eyes gleaming
warned me of my fate.
He went to her, afterwards
as your dull eyes gleamed
and my herdsman watched,
and Bilhah dancing
laughed at my face
and my baby wept loudly
in your tender arms.
I watched and wept,
and waited. Waited.
I watched you, your dull eyes
filling the room
as you watched my young son
And then I looked at you, cow-eyed
blinking, smiling in anger
hitting me for earning
love from your husband.
dragged to his bed again
to give this man of men
more sons, more monsters
to scream at his feet
Leah! Leah! You have your monsters, your children --
let me have mine, my child, my son
the one love I can truly grasp
can truly call mine
for the darkness of Jacob,
for the months of darkness
when I carried my unlover’s child
under my breast
As Hagar in the desert I will hold him,
guard him, as if he were mine
and not the construction of an unholy bargain
between you and your love
LEAH
I hate any women who loves him
and any women he loves
for your have stolen my children, my heart, my hope
and left me holding this mandrake root
RACHEL
It gave me no child
LEAH
It is Bilhah I hate most, I think,
for how can one hate Rachel the loved,
BILHAH
Kiss me, Rachel. Let me show you
other pleasures
than the smile of a child.
RACHEL
Ah sister, were you to know what it is to want a child
a small child to hold and cherish, a child to guide
in the pathways of God, a child
to bring pride to his father
LEAH
I would give up each child
for true love from my husband
RACHEL
And I, I, would give up that love
for the tears of a child.
THE WIVES
LEAH
I am Leah, the older sister
the cow-eyed, unwanted
who held Jacob alone
for seven short years.
I loved him alone.
For seven short years
I loved him alone. Jacob.
My hero, my god. My bedmate,
my friend.
But my father loved me. It was not
tradition that web me to Jacob, rather
the light in my eyes, the one my father
saw bright as I watched
Jacob leap in the air, dance by the fires,
sing to the goats.
They did not tell you that, did they,
that this man touched by God
touched my heart as well -
that watching him dance
They name me cow-eyed, dull
but I have had children. Seven bright eyed
monsters shouting in the sun -
they laugh with their sister, the strong-armed boys
watch them laugh with their sister
And for seven short years
I held Jacob alone
And remember this: it was my idea
to put the spotted rods near the white ewes
to make them bear spotted children
I gave him his wealth.
That I learned this from my children
who unloved in pregnancy came unloved into the world
and grew up unloving
All save the first and the last;
the first so wanted, the last so gifted
RACHEL
And another month I bleed. Ah me
Those seven years, when he slept with Leah
claiming he loved me.
But oh, I saw his eyes, the satisfied light
when he crept from her room
the look I saw
BILHAH
I have been here before. A slave
visits the bed of many, and I had known so many --
lying with the herdsmen, with the camel driver
with Laman, your father. You are surprised?
Ah, Rachel, why did he give me to you
if not for to spy --
to watch in the darkness, to tell of your love
to tell if his daughter
enjoyed her bed?
And who better to tell him
than his lover a slave
while she moved over him, laughing
singing his pleasure?
Even old Isaac, nearly dying, has looked at me,
eyes gleaming, watching my swirling hips,
my tongue dancing over my wine-soaked lips,
and I have run my hands through Esau’s hairiness
rejoicing in its splendour, touching every light hair --
but that was later, when we had returned
to the barren land, with sheep and goats
and Esau watched you, my lovely, childless or not,
and his eyes burned, and burning,
reached for my hand, my mouth, my breasts
and I gave them gladly, grasping his chest
as if it were yours, ready
to give you more children,
more fruits of my love.
Nor had this been my first time
to warm Jacob’s feet, a woman who would
pleasure him gently
and speak to him not of love.
Ah, Rachel, you blink?
Yes, I knew him before,
when Leah groaned heavily
waiting for labour,
and you still a virgin,
unpaid for, untouched,
he came to me restless,
needing my body,
my mouth
always his lover
And then you gave him to me
seeking a child.
How we laughed at that,
And yet, as I loved him,
licking his nipples, hearing him groan
I thought of you, my lovely, my friend,
my beloved. Rachel the loved. And I believed
for a moment that it was you I pleasured
you I groaned against, your nipples I fingered.
What trick this, Rachel? Do you not see
that Dan and Naphtali
are truly your sons?
RACHEL
Dan and Naphtali
suck at my breast
and find nothing
LEAH
My breasts have never run dry.
ZILPAH
Did no one know I loved the herdsman
with his strong wide feet, his gentle hands, his laughing mouth
his tender lips? Did no one know
that I hoped to wed in the barren lands
and with my lips and hands
make him forget the other,
the slave-girl Bilhah?
Did no one hear my scream
when Jacob entered, unwarned, unwanted
as I dreamed of the herdsman?
You have been given to me, he muttered
as his hands pounded, leaving blue bruises.
I need another son. Leah will
have no more. And so I wept,
screaming. Rachel, he once moaned on me,
Rachel, and Bilhah, and then struck me.
Why do you not
move in my arms? I wept.
I have had three other women
and all moaned against me. Wait.
He spent that night with me, and others,
holding me closely, kissing me gently,
You dream of the herdsman he said
as he moved above me
and I could only nod weeping.
Give me a child,
and I will give you your herdsman
I strained against him, calling out
his name in agony, a gift and curse.
I'll give you your child. And he took him,
my Gad, my good fortune, my son.
And kissed me most tenderly,
before you and the herdsman
and Rachel's eyes gleaming
warned me of my fate.
He went to her, afterwards
as your dull eyes gleamed
and my herdsman watched,
and Bilhah dancing
laughed at my face
and my baby wept loudly
in your tender arms.
I watched and wept,
and waited. Waited.
I watched you, your dull eyes
filling the room
as you watched my young son
And then I looked at you, cow-eyed
blinking, smiling in anger
hitting me for earning
love from your husband.
dragged to his bed again
to give this man of men
more sons, more monsters
to scream at his feet
Leah! Leah! You have your monsters, your children --
let me have mine, my child, my son
the one love I can truly grasp
can truly call mine
for the darkness of Jacob,
for the months of darkness
when I carried my unlover’s child
under my breast
As Hagar in the desert I will hold him,
guard him, as if he were mine
and not the construction of an unholy bargain
between you and your love
LEAH
I hate any women who loves him
and any women he loves
for your have stolen my children, my heart, my hope
and left me holding this mandrake root
RACHEL
It gave me no child
LEAH
It is Bilhah I hate most, I think,
for how can one hate Rachel the loved,
BILHAH
Kiss me, Rachel. Let me show you
other pleasures
than the smile of a child.
RACHEL
Ah sister, were you to know what it is to want a child
a small child to hold and cherish, a child to guide
in the pathways of God, a child
to bring pride to his father
LEAH
I would give up each child
for true love from my husband
RACHEL
And I, I, would give up that love
for the tears of a child.