Daily Archives: August 7, 2012

A Crown for Invisible Children, part VI


I must stand strong, escape and close my eyes


want to resist and escape when i close my eyes

and mute my ears; the sound brings them tears

please don’t make me do this again.

fly away if i could, but they didn’t make me with wings

i was designed to press clothes, hold pants

just a hand, but you ball me into a fist

please, don’t make me do this

cry if i could to the Lord above but

I got turned into a weapon of war

as i tore her little body into agonizing shreds

the mental anguish is a fate worse that death

incapable of refusing what he told me to do

tried to warn that baby as we came down the hall

but nature betrayed me, like the crying wall

maybe Tomorrow will hear your call



Optimistic Tomorrows hear your call


we are optimistic, and we hear your call

always looking forward, he forsakes the past

knows you want to fly away today

always saving something better for last

yesterdays cries shall

be heard and help to heal old wounds

patience, praying and coming soon

tomorrow is listening loudly

Babies, please know we’re proud

of your strength and your courage, and heroic knack

for bringing yourself back from the dead

i see brighter days ahead

God whispered his plan into our souls

He said, “whether with the hand, the mouth, or the heart”,

they won’t leave this place without paying tolls


Filed under Poetry

A Crown for Invisible Children, part V


Until I am dead, I’ll make you tall


until i die, i’ll make them tall

raise them in our memories from the pit of forgetfulness

snatch down the curtains for all to see

pin your eyelids to your forehead

and brighten the darkest corners of a parent’s shame

blame lies with avoiding eyes

rising like the morning sun with every death

to take away your breath with piercing lines

open minds read signs all the time

shoulda been you ‘steada me

shoulda stood strong like a tree

billboards blasting along your merry way

shouting, screaming, injecting brains

biting, scratching, calling beyond the grave and all

rather lie down quietly, defenseless and small



Rather than cower defenseless and small


he’ll not cower defenseless and small

wish he’d had Superman’s cape and Batman’s toys

boys dreaming of stopping Daddy’s onslaught

Girl power gave the gravity gladiator

the ability to soar far away—extending beyond the reaches

of fists and hot irons and gut-wrenching roars

wishing it would stop

Jackie Chan fists and feet; Wonder Woman’s neat

Momma, did she use to get beat too?

use to think this was normal till he told his friend

but Daddy said that friendship would end

Daddy, what’s a ‘punk faggot’ anyway?

still wish i’d fly away in the skies

too long to wait until Daddy dies, so i’ll

escape this place when i close my eyes

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Filed under Poetry