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Rebecca Johnson Poem
I was there
On my way to Laflin when the 55th and Garfield bus slowed down.
He should have been passed out from excitement like other 10 year olds playing
football in vacant lots,basketball in streets, and baseball with wooden sticks.
Instead on his way to gas station
collar bone caught bullet like a bleeding brown mitt.
He never made it to first base safe, he never made it home.
I sat there in blue and black CTA seats
and I wished he was struck by a
be-be, paint ball, or tranquilizer gun
but no they simply snatched back cocked metal and released.
He lied there surrounded
face had grazed grass
and when his mother saw him she wished she could resist what purples saw.
cross-fire whiplash
punctured neck
with a certificate to prove his end.
She pawed at his white outline
pleading he would breath life, but when i didn't she wept.
I was restricted to step off bus and on to pavement,
so i had to let my eyes listen
to how blue lights and smudged tears didn't compliment the tragedy.
I mean I was stuck to scene because of the caution tape
and the ambulance
and the way his stretcher jumped as he was being taken to the morgue.
Pedestrians though it was over until they fled like that little boys mother when she
heard her sons blood had been scrambled on the boulevard.
Police mans knees blasted to chest as they chased for blocks ones who failed to
follow: THOU SHALL NOT KILL!
I kept riding past Halsted then on to Racine finally came to Laflin stepped off bus,
looked at the bullet whole in the street sign then asked
what is the purpose of you holding hand high and think u have the right to kill.
Rebecca Johnson
Copyright © Rebecca Johnson | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Rebecca Johnson Poem
The relationship I was standing
on
was
beautiful like daffidols that filled meadows,
and I was kissed with a dozen roses
painted with love.
But being wrong was what
you pushed in my vocabulary.
The second she walked in
you threw it in my face and I felt like
plants withering in winter.
You blew it up, and filled it with
sweet and sour emotions.
Gave me cliched lines,
then kicked me off pedal stool you kept close.
Brushed me off like ugly chicks being dissed.
You made me so
You made me so
corrupted.
Mary J played
while i let constipated diary pages fill too
many emotions you can't comprehend.
I was forbidden to use L words
because your eyes regretted my intentions.
You sealed up everything you had and
shipped it express to her.
I cried more then I smiled
I felt powerless,
helpless,
hopeless.
You licked me boy
I mean damn you licked me....
because
I
was your
SUCKER!
Copyright © Rebecca Johnson | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Rebecca Johnson Poem
Daddy told me that sister said
you were beautiful.
He said she held you
and was your blanket
for short time period.
Told me you were going to be
Timthoy,
Gave me breif discription,
printed pictures
and flashed copied birth certifice
said he wanted proof
that you were his first
Grandson.
Blood robbed your cradle.
That night pressure refused to stay away
from vessel.
It wasn't spilled milk, but i was a substance
that conqured red, and it took the place of your two week old head.
What could have been only
exist in my mind.
So I"m only reminded by your abutuary,
and the visual of that winnie the Pooh hat
morgetision laid on your head
unfortenally I wasn't at birth
But i made it to barrial.
I'm sad emotional
because
I never go to hug you
play pic-a-boo
or even sit with you
But I stand there
massive tears kissing my face
and wonder what could have been.......
Copyright © Rebecca Johnson | Year Posted 2008
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