Victa
Victa is my second (not yet published) collection of poetry, and the nominative feminine singular of the adjective 'victus'. It means 'she is conquered', and stands in opposition to 'invictus' (and thus, to the famous poem by English poet William Ernest Henley): 'he is unconquerable'.
I was the captain of my ship
until the rain began to fall.
Don’t think the unrepentant drip
Would spare your mind: it takes us all.
They took the turtle from her shell
and laid her naked on a rock.
Delusions fell like brickwork fell:
they laid my neck upon the block.
I was not master of my fate.
They took from me all my control.
They tied me to the mast to wait.
I was not captain of my soul.
You were not well she said. I said
I knew my mind: my right to die.
They took my babies from their bed.
I will not kill. I will not lie.
My soul is mine to keep or give;
to still the brackish lake, bereft
of all that thirsted me to live.
It is the one thing I have left.
'Justice, in her purity, refuses to be diverted from the straight path by wealth and fame' [St George's Hall, Liverpool].