It is National Happy Cat Month (September). Please consider adoption.
Cat: An incomparable companion that smoothes the bumpy road.
She looked at me with somber eyes
enchanting with her wily guise.
Hesitant love became her stance
as she wondered at her sole chance
by blinking lovely golden eyes.
Living life with abuse and lies
never knowing what love implies
cautiously observing askance,
she looked at me.
Asking only for warm allies
and love that her bearing belies
hopeful that this is no mischance
and she may enrich and enhance
my cheerless life with loving ties
she looked at me.
The magician wore
my mother’s perfume
and conjured family
from thin air—
a brother renamed uncle,
a wife recast as mother,
a daughter vanishing
behind a tale of bees.
Each sleight of hand was tender—
a hush, a smile, a bowl of soup
cooling on the Formica
while the truth was sawed in half
and tucked beneath the linoleum.
No one told me why
my “uncle” broke my father’s ribs,
or that dad’s flu came in a bottle.
No one told me my brother
had been in prison.
No one told me
I was adopted—
until Aunt Mary dropped the card
like an afterthought,
the queen of spades
sliding from her sleeve.
They said Virginia
died of a bee sting—
a prettier tale than
what swelled inside her,
the blood pressure and seizures,
the silence that followed
her body home.
And no one told me
that my mother wasn’t my mother
until dad blurted it out
on his deathbed.
I didn’t know the word for it
when I was little:
legerdemain—
sleight of hand,
sleight of memory,
the practiced art
of not quite lying
while saying nothing true.
Taken away at birth...
Damaged to human touch...
So I don't like to feel much...
Me and my primordial wound.
I have a hole in my chest...
one that food, sex and drugs cannot sate...
so please don't embrace me unless you can relate...
to me and my primordial wound!
You say you don't see color...
but to you I'm still just another...
and you wonder why I search for my mother...
Me and my primordial wound!
You adopted me but ignore my issues...
so I rain down my sadness into tissues...
so to my adoptive family, I don't miss you!
Me and my primordial wound!
Growing up, white c****** liked to study my every move.
If I showed weakness, they could break in and take control.
In the sunken place, that's mind, body and soul...
and I couldn't scream because white people could do no wrong!
Being adopted is a kinda Hell that doesn't let up.
White community, so black is never good enough.
So, I make beats to ease the pain of racist memories.
Adoptive mother hated n***** and she loved the police!
Catholic church, 666 was always on the wall.
The only black man in the church, so I'll take the fall.
The only black man in the schools, never f***** at all.
No black woman to give me comfort, overall.
Adoptive father, white supremacist ideology.
Still don't know the real reason he adopted me.
Adoptive family is resentful as far as I can see.
They never wanted a little n**** in their family.
Adoptive mother saw the chance to play the savior card.
Raised me from the narcissistic and not from the heart.
So, I have a lot of anger deep inside of me.
I'll make this rap album, so I can be free!
My mother was catatonic, symphonic chronic is what I smoke.
Livinin it bougie, choosin floosies no uzis and then I choke.
You can be me, insane cerebral cortex is
just what I feel.
Living pervy swerving Lexus and hexes to get the deal!
I'm the homosexual, heterosexual, suicidal bloke.
I was adopted by white family and to them I'm just a joke.
They are white supremacist hollow and they drink a racist coke.
And they bought themselves a black kid, broke me down and built a moat.
I'm the illest of the illest, you the illest with a pill.
Donate plasma with no athesma, drain so much I start to spill!
Got the game on lock with fakers who found out that words can kill.
Better bump this on speakers like I invented free will!
Spendin money by the twenties gettin hundies by the bill..
And I'll never stand for the flag so you coonies can in chill!
If my words had a flavor I'm sure I'd be spicy dill.
Bringing back the old school freshness like my name is Uncle Phil!
I’m not a whole person, I don’t think I ever was
I’m a master at losing;
Cause I’ve never won
Robbed of a mother, and a father imprisoned
A grandfather angry, at any chance given -
With few who loved me, or who showed it I guess
There was only one woman, who strayed from the rest
Offering me love, a grandmothers touch
My personal savior;
The end of a bet
fears left behind
as your brown eyes twinkle
finding a new home
Ephesians 1:5-6 NIV?
[5] he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— [6] to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves.
An, orphan being tossed around.
How, did my ears not hear the sounds.
My, eyes I plea how could thy not see.
Leading, me into captivity,
Of, my soul longing to be set free.
These, feet leading me into darkness of the night.
As, if there was no source of light.
Oh, these hands trying to build on my own.
As, if I was a farmer that could reap a sown.
I would hear the harvest is here.
But, how could this world teach me not to fear.
Giving, up by the division and hate.
Left to wander where are those which,
Seek , the narrow path of the Living gate.
One, night alone while opening up God's word.
Seeking, not what I had learned from my herd.
God, heard my humble cry and breathed in life.
In this dead body that was lost in strife.
This, feeling of finding a new home.
While, being purified to longer roam.
Giving, up my mankind foolish ownership.
Seeking, the likeness of this new Kinship.
To receive adoption into God's sonship.
John 1:12-13 NIV?
[12] Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— [13] children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
?John 3:5-6 NIV?
[5] Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. [6] Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.
?Galatians 4:5-7 NIV?
[5] to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. [6] Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” [7] So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.
another option
came up with a concoction
for an adoption
Mother father child
a loving family found
a fresh start on life
I am the hard surface that you see.
Pretty and useful.
Multicultural yet just.
Break the fragile glass into pieces and find shards of pain and fragments of sadness,
broken and messy.
I am glass.
I am Yu-Ri
The newest addition to my family
My bro-in-law christened him Milo
Another named him Jimmy
He’s more like a Chuckie
to me—driving me loco
The greenest eyes
He’s pretty lucky
He loves pink salmon
and playing catch
with crumpled paper I toss,
the unwanted poems I scratch
Biggie (aka) needs weight loss
I tumbled as I stepped over him,
A simple little thing
By eliminating gravy ‘til he gets slim
Pet adopting
It’s what the New Year will bring
Just one year ago today we found you
abandoned, neglected and left for dead
With one stringy vine drooped over the pot
I would have discarded you but instead
My wife felt something stirring inside her
that said you were struggling so hard to live
She moved you to a warm spot in the house
and gave you all the love she had to give
At first your leaves died and fell to the floor
I thought that perhaps you had given up
But she nurtured and talked and sang to you
she let you drink deep from her loving cup
By a miracle it happened one day
a tiny leaf showed itself to the world
With every day that passed you got stronger
til you let your true potential unfurl
Today we might see some scars of your past
they don’t diminish the beauty that’s true
But create the you that stands proud and strong
all because she never gave up on you
From just one person giving all her love
now this life will be able to survive
All it takes is some love and compassion
for something to become healthy and thrive
There is a house built out of hope.
Bruises and cuts made from holding on tight to the rope
where life happens to tug one way and we are trying the other but seems to be slipping from our hands like soap
And although we tried our hardest we fell down the slope
But learned to live.
The house years later still stands, filled with what could have been and what is not
where our memories of each other is blurry but forgot
I dreamed about this a lot
When will this house be worthy? will it be when I’m 30 or would yesterday be too early?
I’m yearning for our “we will meet again” encounter but starting to worry
please hurry
I don’t know how much more I can keep going
where does it stop ?
when will there be an end to this journey?
And everything suddenly stops
our hands now dirty and the rope is cut
no more pulling or tugging
we are all we got.
And it suddenly clicked
this house is no house but a home
where you are welcomed and cherished
welcome home
thank you for not forgetting
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