Welcome

Being unemployed gives you time to think. It is a rare opportunity to reflect on who you are, and who you plan to become. Financial difficulty is a life defining experience when faced with homelessness. I have a belief that everything happens for a reason. Having a chance to live outside of and observe a system we strive to be a part of, which will eventually destroy us gives life a new perspective. At times deep in thought I remind myself that the test of success is graded in your ability to face failure. As a young man aspiring to be a rapper I often wrote of my fear of failure, and my desire to succeed. It wasn't until age 30 on a windy October day that I embraced the idea; stagnation is like dying, all successes in life, love, and finance involve risk and accountability for your actions. The fear of failure is the same as the fear of success.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The Recounting

I will recount this slowly
At the same pace your towel was spread open
Like petals blossoming beneath his touch
Lips blooming at his caress
Lecherous you blushed
Skin turning rose
His penis thorn tearing hymen

I will recount this softly
Like your defiant "no" and cries
Carried away on waves of shame and embarrassment
Softly as you whimpered beneath his touch
Your skin becoming supple buffer
Between him and younger sister

 I will recount this with love
The kind willing trade soiled sheets for youthful smiles
A chance for children to remain such
Sacrifice of self for someone else's sake
Silent strength the kind you'd liken to Jesus
When prayers are only answered on behalf of others
The kind that never allow you to ask why me

 I recount this because it had to be you
You who knew you'd survive
Who knew what was to come
Who acted without regret
Threw cautionary innocence to the wind
Because anyone else dies from shame and guilt
Suicide becomes the moment someone else touches you

 I recount this with respect
I will never rush a stanza in pitched attempt to emulate frenzy
Raise my voice and wave my arms in a display
Of emotions you learned to hide long ago
If your life is in this poem
I will never run through you
You whose spring time came too soon
Scraped with thorns before budding into adulthood

 I will not raise my voice
It may remind you of thunderous whispers as he took you
I will not rush these words
They may be remnant of your journey into womanhood
I can never question your love
Look at what you gave your sister you living super heroine
I can never lose respect
I cannot call your life a story
We share your nightmares fighting in your sleep
So I will recount this slowly
Until I can catch up with your past
And save you
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2 comments:

  1. Legacy LeonardApril 4, 2012 at 12:03 PM

    I am solemn right now. These stories are never easy to recount. Respect.

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousApril 4, 2012 at 6:28 PM

    "You who springtime came to soon
    scraped with thorns before budding into adulthood".}

    One of many arousing stanza.

    Looking Forward
    Carlene Gist

    ReplyDelete

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