Come Back

A wave flows uncontrollably in different directions
and fades away
Just the way we were.
We had great times,
others we were just associates.
Now we speak utter silence to one another.
The moments we shared I do cherish,
now that you are not around.
Blind to the love I have for you,
you push me away.

One of the people I thought would always be there.
Says what you need to do but never been there to help you through
The few good times fade away.
I wish you were around to see the young woman I am becoming.

You're alive,
but our relationship is dead.
Hoping to revive it,
I'm troubled just a little bit,
to find the words to express how I feel.
Still I just want to be real.
Come back into my life.
I wanted you to be the one to walk me down the aisle,
but you treat me so foul
at time.
You say not getting a phone call for Christmas is the reason you're mad.
But little did I know it was just an excuse for you not to be my dad.

Before you leave

Don’t forget to salute with a stiff arm and feet together.

Don’t forget where you are and who’s in charge.

Don’t forget your chain of command, *hint* you start with Obama.

Don’t forget to look forward without a smile unless you want to be in a plank for a while.

Don’t forget to pray every night for strength because you have to get up in another hour.

Don’t forget to save some food to eat when you’re starving at night and don’t get caught.

Don’t forget to scrub you’re body with soap before you shower, so you have enough time to rinse it off.

Don’t forget to brush your teeth every night, unlike you do at home.

Don’t forget to make your bed every morning unless you want to go running.

Don’t forget to sleep in socks to slip on your boots faster.

Don’t forget to introduce me to your friends, you know I like guys in uniform.

Don’t forget it’s mind over matter, just breath and tell yourself “I can do it!”

Don’t forget who you are and why you’re there.

And don’t forget it’s only basic training and you’ll be coming home in only three months.

Every life Matters

All has halted. Horns are blaring.

Everyone chanting has hearts racing.

Annoyed at wasted time, blood is boiling.

Signs pass by and people are chanting

“NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE!”

“BLACK LIVES MATTER!”

Videos of violence and viciousness

Has every parent calling.

Facebook and news websites

Have yet to shed light

On the real problems we have today

In that there is injustice to pay

And NOT just for Freddie Gray

But all individuals who aren’t able to say

that every life matters.

Poem 3

Cheesiest thing I think I've ever written hahahah HELP

 

 

Transformation Tuesday

 

One foot in front of the other,

Bright pink toes peeping out from under

My long, flowy skirt.

Smoothed hair and touched-up makeup,

Smiling brightly and eagerly waving

At a friend at the end of the hallway,

I know what some of them are rightfully thinking.

I’d hate to be around when she breaks a nail.

 

One foot in front of the other,

Black Nike’s make their way into my safe haven.

High fives and fist bumps.

You are one of us.

A homemade cutoff T-shirt reveals

Years of blood, sweat, and occasional tears.

Rounded shoulders and popping quads.

I am not strong…for a girl. I am strong.

 

Music pumps through my headphones

And through my veins.

I am electricity.

Nothing can stop me.

Take my squat rack, I dare you.

I am on a mission.

It’s me versus the world,

You can’t match my ambition.

Poem 2

 

Home

 

Where men in big trucks lift three fingers off the steering wheel

To say hello down a two-lane back road.

 

Where rumors spread faster than the scent of cow manure

Spread over fields in the spring time.

 

Where a four way stop is the closest thing to an intersection.

Take the road between the little store and the old fire house. You’ll see nothing but fields for two miles.

 

Where the neighbor’s cows replace the need for an alarm clock.

“MOOOOO”. 6 A.M. on the dot.

 

Where going into “town” means driving 25 minutes to the closest Walmart,

Where you cannot leave without seeing a dozen people you know.

Where thick dust from corn-plowing combines completely covers your car

Right after you just washed it.

 

Where a sky on fire over an open green field

Takes your breath and worries away.

 

This will always be home.

Poem 1

Before I start editing the crap out of these, let me know if you have any advice! It may greatly influence the changes I make!



Metamorphosis

 

Sweat illuminates the leather skin of a man

Who has worked too hard for too long

But never hard enough

 

Callused hands reach for a silver Coors Light can

Then for a silver sanding belt

Then he takes another sip

 

Salt water scent 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, broken hearts and broken souls

A leather hand slams doors and throws dinner plates

And my hope flies with them

 

The demons inside him surrender ever so briefly

And the fire in his eyes disappears. I see a man again

Pleading to be released from the monster he has become

 

The raging hatred that once burned holes through my skin

Dissipates when familiar hands lay a blanket over my

Falsely sleeping body

 

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

5216 Darien Blvd (Drastic Revision)

She did not call ahead of time because she wanted to surprise them. When she got there she stood at the bottom of the multi-colored stone walkway, as memories of her childhood flooded her brain like a pot of grits that had boiled over onto the stove. Ring around the rosy/ Pocket full of posies/ Ashes, ashes/ We all fall down, she recalled hearing as she gathered her jump rope and 24- pack of Crayola sidewalk chalk.  She could remember turning the water hose head to shower to wash away the hopscotch squares. Each step was like walking into her first class at a new school, slightly nervous, but still extremely thrilled.

She walked past the prickly ash bush that her green bouncy ball used to roll under. She could remember the small scratches that masked her arms from trying to retrieve it. Raising her right arm she knocked on the door. Not too loud, but not too soft. She noticed that it was open. The rusty doorknob hung low, and exposed a small glimpse of the inside. As the door haltingly closed squeaking like an old chair with a limp leg, she was stunned at what she saw.

Her childhood memories rapidly vanished as she scanned the damaged and abandoned living room. The plush green carpet sunk in with each step and reeked of mothballs. The crown molding that aligned the base of the floors was now coated with mildew.  The legs of the wooden chairs were dull, ashy, gray and the shiny top layer of red mahogany wood no longer remained. As she walked further into the house she felted constant drops on water landing on her shoulder. She raised her head and saw a vast hole surrounded by crumbled chucks of paint and cement, exposed water pipes, and what used to be her bedroom floor. The cotton like insulation dangled from the hole like the pendant bowl chandelier that used to be in the dinning room.

She paced back and forth. To the front door. To the kitchen. Then back to the front. She poked her head outside of the door like a Push Pop to make sure she had the correct address. It was 5216. But it was no longer the place she remembered playing hide-and-seek or tag. No longer the place she had thanksgiving dinners or where she raced downstairs to open her Christmas presents. I was unfamiliar, unrecognizable, and unidentifiable. No longer the place she called home. What once was a place that nurtured hundreds of orphan children was now a construction site.