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Best Poems Written by Devinand Nicholson

Below are the all-time best Devinand Nicholson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Devinand Nicholson Poem

Duke Ellington Boulevard

i tried to notice without noticing.
i tried to fit in by not standing out,
but i knew i was different.
their walls much bigger.
their yards much nicer.

in elementary it seemed everyone
was in the same class: lower class,
but this was junior high across town,
on white burb avenue
and i was poor.
they weren't.
of course i resisted.
i mixed and matched the clothes i had
as if i was a designer preparing
for the new season.

they let me into their world
for a little while.
i hung out in huge basements,
chilled in hot tubs with bikini clad young hotties,
taking part in all the gossip.

until my illusion wavered 
and they slowly pulled back--
as my clothes got holes in them,
as my shoes wore down,
as i grew out of all i had gotten 
that one time my mom took me school shopping.

goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.

years later i would remember them
at the most inopportune moments--
drunk in a dive bar in Harlem
talking to an ugly girl i was thinking about doing,
in the dirty bathroom of a crack house before i
put the pipe to my lips,
in line at the welfare office.

i think i was bitter for a while,
thinking about how they all probably owned homes
not far from each other and how they would
throw little upscale cocktail parties
around the holidays and kiss each other
on both cheeks when they greeted
but at the same time trying to stay hip by listening
to commercial rap and sexy pop music in their suv's.

yeah, bitter

drunk, and very early in the morning,
i came across a tiny neighborhood jazz bar
where a trio group had their hands 
on the heads of everyone and was shaking them
to the electric sounds of their primitive instruments.
a boxing gym had less bobbing and weaving 
than that jazz bar on the corner of 106th and broadway.
cats were healing up in the place that night.

my head was going ten rounds while my eyes were closed 
when those girls popped up only for a second,
but they didn't fit the scene,
so for the first time, i felt sorry for them
before i forgot about 'em.

later, outside, the sign that said 106th st.
had another one below it that read 
duke ellington boulevard
i stared at it, making room for a new memory.

goodbye, Stephanie Bach.
goodbye, Anne Murry.
goodbye, Lori Larson.

Details | Devinand Nicholson Poem

Victory Is Mine

I wish I could say failure was as unknown
to me as my brother's current address,
but last year on my seventh anniversary,
I gave my wife a cupcake with a candle in it
and a six pack of non-light beer,
four of which I drank..

The spot where my college diploma 
should be is taken by a picture
of pool-playing dogs and the caption,
"hey, one leg on the floor."

My childhood soccer uniform is not
framed in my office next to other
sports memorabilia from fellow
professional athletes.

Yes, failure follows me as closely
as my little brother did, age four through ten.

But
when I saw that toddler-sized dribble of pee
sporadically hit the inner walls of the toilet 
and then waterfall downward into
the pool of redemption below,
I grabbed my newly potty-trained son's arm,
held it up toward the gods that made it all possible,
and yelled, "gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!"

I followed this up with an acceptance speech
to a still toilet-seated audience member of one,
in which I thanked everyone from huggies pull-ups
to the first years toilet seat company.

Weeks of hard work culminated in this one day,
and I knew
victory was mine.

Details | Devinand Nicholson Poem

Fly, Baby, Fly

broken spirit and wings,
this bird no longer sings.
forgotten are the days of intoxicating flight,
replaced with fears of another fight.

this was a day much like any other,
but this time the lightening force of his punches created thunder.
through watery eyes and rain-stained glass, she began to see.
as she molted transparent skin and grew thick feathers, she prepared to flee.

like embracing the change of seasons, she embraced new insight.
she learned her own husband made her wings less bright.
visions of the sun on her back as she soared above the situation
gave her the perspective to no longer tolerate victimization.

you see, this bird can't be caged; her wings are too bright.
her mind bends bars as she exercises foresight.
i know because she sings to our kids every night.
fly, baby, fly

Details | Devinand Nicholson Poem

Dark Prophecy

flip, flip, flip,
boredom, early in the morning,
the day after Christmas.
the channels go by quicker than
the memories of life from a death bed.
i stop on the Montel Williams Show mostly
out of thumb fatigue.

i see a-pain-faced woman
speaking about the recent unsolved murder of her father.
coincidentally it's the story of my uncle Hal and
the woman, Nicole, is the grown-up version of my cousin Nikki.

until this moment, i haven't seen her since she was the tom-boy
who tried to show me how to bait a fishing line by grabbing a live worm 
and stabbing through it twice with the hook in different places to keep
the worm from falling off while it was in the water.
i was too squeamish to do it myself.
a wimpy boy in her ten-year-old eyes.

we were visiting the Florida town they lived in
during a rare Christmas vacation.
although she told me i would see her again as we hugged goodbye,
i never thought i would because she lived across the country.

now i have seen her,
this morning,
exactly 19 years to the day,
under the worst circumstances i could think of,
but she was right
in her now dark prophecy.

Details | Devinand Nicholson Poem

This Beauty

this beauty was so stunning,
it was beyond Lori Larson's aura in a bikini
at the only pool party i attended freshman year.

this beauty felt better than the state championship
season i had with the northshore spectre.
that year i hung my cleats half-way up
my wall as if they were a Picasso.

this kind of beauty came at a time 
i lived in a hotel when i was waiting on a check,
two weeks behind on rent, and my wife had just come
home from the hospital worn out from a tedious labor.

this beauty appeared the night a christian woman who had
only heard about us from a mutual friend paid our rent debt ,
with no prior warning, over the phone.
 
it came when i layed down next to my newborn
with eyes free of the stresses that plagued me the past year.
my first fatherly moment 
was on this beautiful night.

Details | Devinand Nicholson Poem

Who Knows Why?

my filth 
is created by my pain.
my anxiety
is a lack of patience.
my selfishness
is my gripping fear.
all are a part of my world

my song 
gives love a chance.
my smile shines on both sides of an issue.
my openness
is from my inate desire to help others.

my happiness comes and goes 
like the tide.
my tears of pain and joy
are equally heavy 
on a scale 
that needs to be balanced.