Metamorphosis edit

Metamorphosis

 

7 AM. Sweat illuminates the leather skin of a man

Whose callused hands hold a Silver Coors Light can

And a silver sanding belt.

 

Long, hard days at the marina call for something

Cool to drink, but something with a little burn also

To take away the pain.

 

10 PM. Salt water scents and fiberglass fumes fill

The home that does not feel like home

When his veins pump the poison he swears he needs

 

Screams and tears, words like daggers, broken hearts and

Broken souls. A leather hand slams doors and throws dinner plates

And her hope flies with them.

 

The demons inside him surrender ever so briefly

And the fire in his eyes disappears. She sees a man again,

Pleading to be released from the monster he has become.

 

2 AM. The raging hatred that once burned holes through her skin

Dissipates when familiar hands gently lay a blanket

Over her falsely sleeping body

 

Hands that say I love you, I just don’t know how to show it.

Late night thoughts

Life is beautiful, enchanting,
And then it gets ripped
Out of your grip the second
You forget to realize
Just how fragile it is.

Another text received too soon,
Reading the words "she passed"
Should make me feel numb by now,
But it's like a dagger into my soul.
19 years old, being laid to rest.

Tell me, how can there be a greater purpose
When the angle of a wheel
Or amount of pressure on a pedal
Can instantly make you regret
Words you never said?

Revised Poem

Time

Time heals everything.

People my age

should never experience this once,

let alone 4 times.

Be understanding, God

wanted to take them for his own reasons.

They were wrong.

Time never got easier,

It never got any easier with each

funeral seeing someone

the same age as you, lie in a casket.

It was something I shouldn’t have

seen til I was much much older.

But by the age of 19,

I’ve seen it 4 times.

3 DUI related car crashes, and one

shot by his father.

4 candle lightings, 4 different anniversary dates,

1 simple neck tattoo,

to keep my boys always with me.

They were wrong.

Time didn’t heal a thing.

Revised Piece

10 Violet Drive

She made two lefts, three rights, and saw the home that she spent so many years and had so many memories in. Some things were the exactly the way she remembered them, and some things looked like stranger’s faces walking down the street. The hunter green shutters were still faded, the single tree was still standing, and the mailbox still had a tiny dent from when she backed down the driveway, a little too fast.

The fence was new, replaced by the neighbors. It was only a fence, but it was the fence where she learned how to pitch for softball, and spent numerous hours outside practicing. Her spray painted pitching box was gone, like the neighbors just erased it without thinking twice. She thought this fence was just a fence, but emotions started to swarm her; like the huge wave that creeps up on you out of no where, when you aren’t looking at the beach.  She thought the fence was just a meaningless object, but it actually cared some importance to her. She was nervous to see her house from the inside, like a high school girl on the first day of class. She was scared to see what else changed, or if her room was still the same sky blue color.

She was surprised to see the inside look exactly the way she had remember it. The third step still cracked, the paint chips in the hallway from moving furniture were still there, and her height chart was still along the wall. All of these things were easy cosmetic fixes, so why didn’t the new owners fix these? She was confused, but yet relieved. She felt as if her home still had parts of herself left and her childhood was still left in and throughout the house. Her family no longer owned the home, but they left their own footprints. Like when you are walking along the beach in the early morning and you can look over your shoulder, and see your track of footprints. The footprints may erase in time, but you always know where you start walking at. This house was like the start of her own footprints for the beginning years of her life.

It was still her home and would always be home to her.

Revised Version , tried to make it more personal

If only you knew

If only you knew

That taking on that Red, White, and Blue

would cause such sadness and sorrow.

You’re forever gone til tomorrow.

We were always together

because you’re my baby brother

If only you knew

Your dark skin and tall stature

brought comfort to mom and me,

but now that you’re gone

We miss you a ton

If only you knew

All the bickering and bothering

about your big black (dead) toenail

Will forever be our tale

If only you knew

I could watch all day

your daily snap stories

of the K-dramas you made;

remain as faint memories.

If only you knew

That our sadness is actually happiness,

You left with a grand plan

to become a fine man.

Now do what you do

and return so I can say,

“I love you”

Revised Version of "Every Life Matters" and an attempt at a BOP Poem

Charm City

Beer bottles and burning buildings were

collecting casualties as smog and smoke

blanketed over the endless sky. Countless crowds

cried out for justice with nothing, but raised voices.

This was Charm City.

Viral videos of violence and brutality,

City after city, death after death,

restless citizens agitated and anxious

await the long foreseen acquittal.

Civilians now compromised by the hurt

and hatred, painted by naïve, juvenile brothers

who forgot that all together, they’d be labeled

as nothing but animals and straight beggars.

This was Charm City.

To banish the broken, big brother enlisted

men and women in uniform to unite.

Submit or surrender, and comply with curfew

Build businesses back up, bottom to top

Communities come together and with limited choices

To cry out for justice with nothing, but raised voices.

This is charm city.

The boogeyman

This is a drastic revision of my imagery and density piece.

The boogeyman was back—
  again.
     Shh... It's a secret.

The shuffle and sliding of his feet,
Across the rough black carpet
On the move.
  He is chasing his prey.
     Shh... It's a secret.

My eyes are open, but I don't see.
Desperate for light, my eyes scan the room.
Without my permission, they find the light creeping under the door.
Their shadows are black blobs,
moving too fast for me to see without my glasses.
I slam my eyes shut.
   Because the boogeyman's business is a secret.

My ears are still open.
They too, listen without my permission
Her pleas—
quick, quiet, and breathy.
I don’t to listen.
     Because the boogeyman's business is a secret.

Her pleas are no longer in the air.
All movement halts.
Peeping underneath my eyelids, the blobs are gone.
   He caught her.
      Shh... It's a secret.

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump
My heart is drumming against my ribs.
"They will hear" I say. "Stop the noise"
"They can't know that I know—
    Because the boogeyman's business is a secret."

He will be back again, we all know it.
  Shh... It's a secret.