Letting stanza and verse flow from me like green algae water from a fountain that needs to be cleaned
Throw in your pennies and take away my two cent
hopefully you drop it again heads up allowing someone else a chance at good luck
I want to write
Like "Quiet as it's kept, there were no marigolds in the fall..."
Or "..Meadows lilies for the very word meadow made her breath more deeply."
or even
"`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe"
because at this point I am afraid.
and this is not the writers block poem
this is the i don't want to write another word about his funky ass poem
So I want to write
a riddle in nine syllables
overcompensate with my vocabulary and call it ego
trip over my alliteration living lack luster leftovers of similes
Go to war with scansion to find a peace in haikus
lose my way again
discover it in refrain
and then read McKay
sew together loose thoughts and tangent until Walter Mitty is my soul mate
My Son
I wanted a son.
Someone to hide behind my skirt before venturing to explore the world
They would say your boy, Id call him young man, and teach him the things only a mother can.
I would read to him my poetry Along with Brent Staples and Claud Mckay
romanticize his dream that he could be anything someday
We would vacation where the wild things are
and he would know
I would send him to prominent schools and let him spar until his belt turns darker then the pupils of his beautiful eyes
But he would see it
For there are monsters that night lights and woobie can’t protect him from
And they will lurk in the shadows, hide behind badges and pose in suits
So every day I will tell him he is wonderful just the way God made him
I will remind him
Hold your head up high you’re not a bum
Turn down your collar and always beware
Keep your hands visible when walking into a store and uncover your head
Work three times as hard to come out ahead
Because you are better than they are
These are the thing I will instill in my son because of his hue
And there are plenty of thing his father will teach too
but no matter but he will always know
He is a black boy growing up to be a black man
What do you mean by this line? It's a thought provoking sentence and can be interpreted many ways, but I would like to know your meaning or interpretation or understanding behind this line as its the ending
If you don't want to elaborate, you don't have to, I'm just curious as to why you put that line in
format_quote Originally Posted by lynn4now
no matter but he will always know
He is a black boy growing up to be a black man
I hope you don't mind me prying. I mean asking
فَبِأَيِّ ءَالَآءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ "Then which of the favours of Your Lord will ye deny?"
Al-Qur'aan; Surah Ar-Rahman
were taught that poetry is subjective so Im more interested of what you think it means although I worte this at a request on my feelings about a potical issue of Trayvon Martin
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