Every time I turn on that street I feel a sudden tingling under my feet. Every time I turn on that street, I feel a strange emotion rising
in my chest and I can see the wind moving rapidly towards the west. Oh how I dread this feeling when my heart start beating
And the unknow lies beyond the door when you have to ask yourself what`s more, and that same feelings travel slowly into
my chest and circle around my breast and rest in the middle of my stomach. It is not a feelings of pain or a feeling of shame, it is the feeling that you get when you are almost out of breath and you do not know what next, it is that feeling of uncertainty that build up the tension in my belly and the silent cry that resonate at midnight when no one is around to minister to silent emotions. The tears
that keeps dripping inside and the pride that is burning outside when no one is walking by your side. It is the tears that cannot flow when you are almost ready to go. Every time I turn on that street I can smell the stench coming from
the stagnant water running in the gutter and the tension around
engulf the street with a feeling that is running in the deep
And everyone is asking what`s wrong why aren`t eating
Everyone is asking what`s wrong why aren`t you dancing
And as you move closer to open the iron gate then comes the drilling and the knocking and the frequent shouting. The men`s voices forming a chorus as they drive the nail in the wood like a builder should. And the old woman with her white hair leaned over the wall looking at me with eyes that have no focus trying to
start chaos, so I grabbed my bag and give destiny a final nod
I glanced at her for a while and walked through the iron gate, I did not look left or right, I kept walking until I reached the top of the street. Every time I walked down that street, I can hear the dogs barking. Every time I walk down that street I can hear my Spirit crying and the cat crying above the ceiling keeps ponding as if
it is dying, it is only starving for food and sometimes it behaves rude. As I walk slowly down the path where more than a hundred thousand feet have passed, I gazed at the sun rising up the hill
and the she goats and her kids mesmerizing in the grass. And their voice muttering a strange sound that makes you want to frown. This is what transpires when you walked down that street. The bar, the workshop and the school are singing to the same beggars man`s tune, arrogance and ignorance walking around like a man when you walk down that street. You can feel the early morning temperature walking beneath the door but there is always something that you can be sure, there is always something to write about when you go on that street Whether its demons and devils, prayer and heaven cussing and crying laughing and sighing, there is always an interesting story on Victoria street a story of love and hate, family fude and preacher`s dirty mood everything is wrapped up into the earth on Victoria street.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2020
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