Quiet Poetry Lounge : John's Nightmare

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by Legendof_1_Spirit, Mar 26, 2006.

  1. Legendof_1_Spirit

    Legendof_1_Spirit Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    An insistent voice reached her
    but she had swallowed her tongue
    and it was stuck
    down deep in her throat
    red lipstick smeared across her lips
    told private tales of a past
    she buried deep within her soul
    and carried branded upon her
    silky bronze skin
    covered in the latest ann klein
    bebe bisou bisou bcbg ardenb
    compliments escorted by kate spade
    prada and nine west
    she was plastic brittle fragile
    with a faded tattoo bruise
    upon her chest that ached
    with every breath
    one of many momentos
    induced by alcoholic journeys
    into lustful inadequacies
    of unfullfilled boyhood dreams
    haunting a child trapped
    in men's clothes
    and unable to deal with the
    responsiblities of a man's role
    an unstable pressurecooker
    who exploded all over her
    because in his eyes she was weak
    afraid easily intimidated
    and whenever life threw curve balls
    or a bad pitch
    he ran to the local package store
    dugout to find comfort
    in a deadman named Jack
    wearing a lemon twist
    then returned home
    an agitated louisville slugger
    who never missed with his fist
    and batted her around for just being
    there
    for just being concerned
    for just being able to care
    for a man that was unable to care
    for himself
    a boy who never got over his dad
    not being there when his mom's
    boyfriend hit him and spit in his face
    then slapped his mom in the mouth
    for coming to his aid
    shoved her in the room and forced her
    to love him in his rage
    a boy who could not see
    that he was now the monster
    he never wanted to be until she
    his wife of five years
    pulled a gun with a scream
    ONE
    he felt a sharp sting jolt his shoulder
    TWO
    a roaring fire engulfed his chest
    THREE
    his right leg buckled with a sudden shudder
    and he fell
    tired into a dream where his hand
    was iron and drew blood
    from a ten year-old boy
    lying next to him still as stone
    his wife on her knees
    showering her son
    with tears from swollen eyes
    holding a gun
    a phone to her ear
    and in that moment he saw
    his own tears
    a vision of his mom
    crying as she held him
    apologies strolling from her lips
    "he didn't mean it John,
    he was just angry, in one of his moods,
    you know how he gets..."
    hot drops of pain smoldering
    with one question
    an answer repeated like
    a desperate plea dying
    to
    be
    believed
    "I can't leave him John...he loves me
    he loves ME
    he LOVES ME
    HE LOVES ME"


    Sometimes we become what we hate the most.


    Legendof_1_Spirit
    c BCB 2006
     
  2. nevar

    nevar Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    most folks around here say welcome i say hey. wow John nightmare was like this:jawdrop: truly amazing writer. cant wait to see more of your flo's poet.:welldone:
     
  3. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    tru dat indeed , we seem to change like da weather
    awesome flow
     
  4. Legendof_1_Spirit

    Legendof_1_Spirit Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    <appears>

    Nevar, Rich, I am grateful for your responses to this poem. It was somewhat difficult to write because it is a break from my normal happy, leave you with a good feeling style of poetry.

    But I grew tired of my old style and have spent the past year expanding my horizons in order to become a more well rounded writer/poet. Actually I would love to be able to write about broader topics and add my own perspective to them. Reading a lot of Yusef Komunyakaa's poetry has really inspired me.

    Sorry for ramblin' and once again thanks for reading and responding.

    <disappears into the night>
     
  5. Tantrum

    Tantrum Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Dam this was very deep
    I eman it went from here to there
    This was a skillful thought out
    Piece right here and the truth of it is
    So many people go through this in there lives
    Much Love Poet
     
  6. cocobutterskyn

    cocobutterskyn Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Whoa!

    This is an incredible read. A novel in a poem with explosive imagery that allows the reader to experience the ills of each character. I saw through their eyes and felt their pain.

    I always did enjoy reading you! Thanks for sharing with us.

    By the way, I noticed its your birthday... Happy Birthday!!



    Be blessed
    Corey
     
  7. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Gotta agree with cocobutterskyn here, wow, the intrigue, the vivid imagery, my goodness every line drew me in to learn more. Bravo!
     
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