in getting ready to lead the writing workshop for the Neighborhood Writing Alliance i find myself writing. i'm in the midst of editing a poetry mansucript titled "The Ravings of a Saggitarian Woman-Child" and i've been rewriting quite a few of my old pieces. this morning was "Blinded by the Light."
Blinded by the Light 8-2003
The curtain drawn
Over your eyes
No desire to learn
What's wrong in your own
Fear of the unknown
Hide yourself, your heart
In blatant ignorance
We've known each other thirty years
And it's not suburbia
Yet still so typical.
A sons' best friend - dying
Liver damage by heroin
My sons' friends can't be trusted
Because they're black
Your son kicked h
Replaced with c
But mine is dangerous
Because of prison
They propositioned me
Whose known them since birth
But my sons' disrespectful
In answering their 3 a.m. party invite
Those who back away from
The disease that devours our society
Transparent denial of their own
In perceived disease of others
This is what I write about
This is what I march against
This is the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment