Posts Tagged ‘anger



10
Feb
10

I’m Sorry

I didn’t intend to hurt you feelings like that.
I meant to say those things in a very different way.
I had imagined that before I spoke my piece,
I’d have time to pretty it up;
Choose just the right softening words,
Something appropriately multisyllabic.
Instead you forced the moment,
Startled the extremely rough first draft out of me
And I’m sorry but I don’t believe I should be judged
On something submitted without benefit of time for revision or polishing.
So let’s pretend one of us has just pressed ctrl + z
And try this again later.

21
Jan
10

Promised Land Blues

I was born one Sunday morning with a Bible in my hand
I was born one Sunday morning with a Bible in my hand
I was born one Sunday morning with a Bible in my hand
And the preacher told my mama, “He’ll lead us to the Promised Land.”

Oh my daddy died one Friday with a shotgun in his hand
My daddy died one Friday with a shotgun in his hand
Yes my daddy died one Friday with a shotgun in his hand
And the preacher told my mama, “There dies a wasted man.”

When I moved North to the city, Ma was crying on the stairs
When I moved North to the city, Ma was crying on the stairs
When I moved North to the city, my ma was crying on the stairs
I said, “Mama, stop your weeping cuz there’s a better life up there.”

Since I been here in the city I’ve found sorrow, I’ve found pain
Since I been here in the city oh I cannot stop the pain
Since I been here in the city I’ve found sorrow, I’ve found pain
If I could trade my pride for dollars, I’d be in Mama’s arms again

Nearly down to one last dollar and there’s a question in my head
Nearly down to one last dollar and there’s a question in my head
I’m almost down to one last dollar and there’s a question in my head
Should I buy that silky shotgun or a moldy loaf of bread?

Mama, please forgive me for what I’m about to do
Mama, please forgive me for what I’m about to do
Mama, please forgive me for what I’m about to do
But I think I see my daddy and he’s come to lead me through.

Jesus, do you hear me? Answer if you can
Sweet Jesus, do you hear me? Answer if you can
Jesus! Do you hear me? Come on, answer if you can
How was I to lead my people when there ain’t no Promised Land?

04
Jan
10

Progress

Crushed butts in the grass remind men
People take the shortest cuts
And in passing leave behind them
Pathways marked with Starbucks cups.

Wait! He says, This is an outrage!
Call a meeting, kvetch and moan.
Gather friends to bag up garbage;
It’s replaced before they’re home.

Surely, there exists an answer-
Can’t each one police himself?
When will these cretins serve justice?
While they’re burning trash in hell.

24
Dec
09

Work In Progress

The wind stung our cheeks and levered crystals of moisture from our tear ducts. Aaron grabbed my hand and dragged me, my thick feet stumbling, into the last remaining full-length phone booth. He shouted over the gale threatening our sanctuary, “Think of something sad.”
“Like what?”
“Think of Albert. Think of him dumping the box of Legos on Christmas morning. Surveying his new-built city and strutting like an emperor. And we’ll never see him.”
The tears surprisingly swift and sweet in the warmth they brought to the surface, coursed down my cheeks. I felt my face thaw and then sag as if I were melting. I rubbed my face on Aaron’s scarf and the earthy scent of the wool tickled my nose.
“You’re right,” I said into his neck, my words chipped, sharp. “That’s why I can’t forgive you.”

21
Dec
09

Rebirth And Retribution

In my next life, I’m going to be a big man
And I’m going to drive a big damn truck.
Being rich could only help me;
Having influential friends couldn’t hurt.
Then I could cut off other drivers with impunity
Especially the ones with Christian fish on
Their cars who force folks nearly off the road.
I could say what I wanted too like
“Cover your mouth, you son of a bitch.
No one else wants your germs because
You feel the need to cough.”
I’d take my grocery cart with 47 items and
Unload it in the express lane.
If people griped about it, I’d pay for their items too
Then they’d feel like dirt for complaining.
And, of course, there’d be no problem with my
Picking up young people- who’re sitting on the
Bus in the seats reserved for Honored Citizens- and
Moving them to more appropriate spots;
My influential friends would take care of getting
Any charges dropped or settlements arranged.
For some reason it was my destiny in this life
To be a small woman who drives junkers.
Maybe I’m supposed to learn humility or patience
Or just how to cope with a lot of crap.
But in my next life I’m going to be a big man
And I’ll be making up for lost time.