backyard crowing


couple of weird poems

poem about bicycling:

world whips whizzing
through my tousled tresses
wrinkled skirt
flowing shirt

click clack the tires
click clack the metal
click clack
click clack
my life clicking past

wind at my fingers
sigh of my soul
sun diving slowly
devouring heat gentles itself
summer sweat tumbling from my forehead
my feet, my legs demand strength
i struggle against the altitude

and ah!
downhill once again
and ah!

my feet trace the letters of a forgotten name
that boy whose face i have not framed
the road when steep we steady go,
when falling: joy, reflection shows


jus' dis early morn
ah peeped my head out de quilt
an' like any smart child
ah looked both ways

ah saw momma an' freddie boy an' ally an' elliot
but no mo'
no mo' peoples peepin' on me
dere dey was, jus' sleepin' an' dreamin' an' talkin'

dis lil' chump jus' had ter see it
de day befo' we'se had a fancy-fine white chap
tells us ta lookin' dat well dere an' see de tamorrows
yessir we'se say, yessir we'se b'leive'd,
our eyes saucer-wide

as it was nearin' dark,
momma say no son, no son, no son
no son ain't a gonna peep dat well tonight
i'se too late stayin' up awready
she say she knew tamorrow well nuff
i'se be tired on tamorrow, she say
sho' nuff
my eyes'a playin' master tricks own me jus' dis early morn

mah toes went tippy tap cross those ol' dirt floors
till ah reached de dew cover'd grass,
crabby as usual
i tippy tap tapped cross de dew
an' de well?
de well.
de well ah peeped in slow and cautionary,
jus' a waitin' fer de future to come floodin'

after a few mo'

......ran out of steam on that poem. it was supposed to be from a slave boy's
eyes. i feel like people might consider me racist for writing something like this. we're learning about minstrelsy in history of rock, so it's been on my mind.

- sunday, sept. 10, 2006


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