Dominique Webb | + Follow Poet |
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The Tide

They thought i was disabled by choice, not by veracious right, 
They thought, ‘cos i objected to medicine’s lady, 
But my parents were both a malady, 
To medicine’s elegance and height. 

My parents were faith healers, into prayer, 
For coughs, colds and constipation, 
And so I did object to faith consummation, 
Rather than medicine’s beautiful lair. 

I was desperate to become independent by a male OT, 
But I hid my yearning, covered by my face, 
My sociology became bad and with a poisoned lace, 
Until I had to escape the worlds of religion and disability. 
	
My blue bird lifted upon my sight, 
And then i confounded the solid door, 
Manoeuvred into the computing floor,  
In the stillness of the night. 

A very small thought passed my mind, 
Right or wrong? There’s morality in existence, 
But i did just continue on without much persistence, 
The keyguard from the cupboard to find. 

After half an hour or so, there it was, 
My name on top of the high score board, 
RIM, never to be belittled or to have water poured, 
On this gamer of much dexterity, cause. 

So i was functional, that would just say everything, 
But i knew and felt I’d turned the tide against me, 
Hot with sweat, i did not have nature on my side umbilically, 
And the law would also condemn my aiming. 

However, i did think i could still complain legally, 
Against no named person for living and loving,  
And because i was also disabled and aggravated, in the ring,
I thought I’d not be charged necessarily. 

Life under threat, but there are boats, 
Sea water may not be right for an isolated disabled child, 
And paddles can avenge the tide to forward gild, 
That child from the darkness of no votes. 

Nature comes back and people burn, 
To help you up your ladder of reason, 
And sea water is by no means treason, 
So i did change from that day on to upturn.

Copyright © Dominique Webb | Year Posted 2016

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