Best In The Gutter Poems
My life that never goes to sleep
And kills me everyday
My life that always pulls me in too deep
And leaves me with this price to pay
My life that always falls into pieces
And suffocates my happiness everyday
My life and my heart that continuelly creases
And my depression that never goes away
My life that always twists and turns
And confuses me so
My life that always burns
And doesn't know where to go
It is two o’clock and the sun is shining.
Its rays are shimmering on the ground.
The rain had come with perfect timing.
School is out, and boys fooling around.
The rays are reflected from high above
and the rain has fallen at the usual time.
Why does it happen always at lunch?
And yet again for afternoon tea?
Those were the days on the high veldt
when summer days were predictable.
School is out and shoes are off
some are paddling in the gutter.
The water is warm, but not from the sky.
Warmed by the road that was steaming hot,
after a brief shower it then becomes dry.
The warm water flows only one way,
until it finds the grate of the drain.
With a gurgle, a swish and a sway,
it will be in darkness until it emerges again.
Now as a stream it will see the sun.
It’s hard to imagine that some of the drops
will find their way to the mighty ocean
and start all over again.
You say you are braver, superior, smarter,
Your pride, ever swollen, has poisoned the air.
In fact, you are already deep in the gutter,
You've merged with the shades of the earthly despair.
Your crave for respect, much more cash, a career,
But luck's velvet fingers won't grant you a touch,
Your purpose is being in front of the rear,
You cannot believe that it costs one too much.
The same elevator, the buttons in rows
From Monday till Friday. The same boring week.
You press button ten: you are taken below -
Regarding your dwelling, emotion-sick.
You crave for respect and life-long recognition,
But rich-colored life is behind your bent back,
You don't realize it's a bitter position,
You've never considered the change of this track.
You say you are braver, superior, smarter,
But you are deprived of the pleasure of thought.
In fact, you are already deep in the gutter,
The look of a shadow is all that you've got.
Eating bowls of dying meat
sucking poison which taste sweet.
Gas filled bodies that retain their juice
a dead little dog that took abuse.
The death song plays for a mutilated boy
insane parents who receive no joy.
Black dogs bark at the funeral fires
death looks down and picks his desires.
The decapitated body of an unknown man
no one cried which was part of the plan.
A shot in the dark took the poor man down
crazy children laugh as they hear the sound.
'Blood in the gutter' whispered the man
slay your neighbor as fast as you can
No one hears this , no one understands
'Blood in the gutter' whispered the man.
A slash of the knife brought grandma down
the young boys laughed at the blood on the ground.
The blood stained clothes of a forgotten child
the man with the knife is running wild.
The meat in the gutter might be your own
for you are left for dead
and to the dogs you were thrown !
Where I grew up,
Dysfunction was viewed as normal
Normal was viewed as dysfunction
Where I grew up,
My family was just like the streets
The streets were just like My family
Lies
Survival
Betrayal
Confusion
Every part of My reality was an optical illusion
Where I grew up,
Pain understood trouble
Trouble understood pain
Where I grew up,
Everyone had a story
Every story had a face
Leaders
Followers
Dreamers
Desires
Every child for themselves fighting their own fire
Where I grew up,
Poverty was typical
It was typical to live in poverty
Where I grew up,
Addiction was common
It was common to have an addiction
Greed
Prison
Death
Shame
Very few where able to get out of this vicious game.
By:Sabina Nicole
Written: for all those still fighting
and those who have overcome
The great God Almighty showed a man in a dream one night
that he'd die out in the gutter if he didn't change his plight,
with ants crawling in his mouth and flies sucking up his blood.
Just one more drink would do it--Satan gave the final shove.
Death is often welcomed in this world as a quick escape,
because everything about life is not easy for men to take.
Life's a treasure when you're younger.
Life's a problem when you're old.
Life's a burden to endure when you're tired and in the cold.
Sometimes when men are sober, they do an honest task
just to earn enough money to buy more booze for their flask.
They've been from rags to riches so many times before
that everyone thinks the worst of them
when they stumble through the door.
A man who loves himself would never lead that kind of life.
A man who respects himself needs a family and a wife.
But the alcohol still calls some to the gutter every night.
They'd rather hug a trash can than wed a girl that's right.
What he is, is still important. What he says, is never done.
He's a man who's lost the meaning of what to do for fun.
And he'll die out in the gutter with no one to be his friend
for the gin within his bottle has more meaning than life to him.
Janet Marie Bingham