The DAvID Little v Poet Easter Miracle

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D.Lester Young
Senior Member

since 2001-12-08

Posts 1219
Austin, Tx

0 posted 2003-04-19 05:40 PM

The DAvID Little v Poet Easter Miracle

I need to edit more but I am in a public library my computer crahed.

Her I lie ashamed,
in words opening up to you,
that I may need your help,
that I made a mess of things.

I cannot use my full name,
for my company has seen their right,
to ban my poetry on their site.
For it should enter the work force,
with my name on it,
somehow secretly showing up,
my job will be terminated.

I live in a place,
where we have furniture police,
a place where the name of a coffee house
becomes so repulsive to some,
yet the university that owns the land,
saw fit to lease it to them.

I tried to have a private business,
but it was an American dream of fiction.
Failing so badly,
that the more I fought,
the worse it got.
So I went down,
for the third time,
under my free will,
saying I will never try that again,
in a state that has their own cash.

So why was this poet banned,
maybe he thought there was
freedom of speech,
even in conservative America,
at least away from the workplace.
Never dreaming that it would
come back to haunt him on his job
by what other distributed on him.

Yet these people see no harm
in magazines with guns in them
with women in leader
holding a 45 so defiantly.
While I may not have a gun
or every own one,
it is their right to read about them.
But it seems ironic,
that I can do more harm
in my words as a poet.

Using a dictionary full of words,
displaying the disgust of this evil thing,
that I was writing about,
they assessed him of being obscene,
mandating me for evaluation,
or face expulsion from the work place.

Was I a union activist,
maybe I should have been
to have more rights,
but far worse I was a poet,
a poet that wrote about abuse
in “Assuming Roles”.
A poem about the pain created
from the vision of someone else
who he just met,
the words of another one in pain,
talking to them
as a form of their therapy,
by quietly assuming roles
to only listen from,
never condoning the hurt,
that one inflicts on another.

By writing about it,
showing in a disgusting way,
that it can affect others for a lifetime.
Well to my dismay,
the curse fell on me,
for my words were so abusive
to narrow minds.
For those that did not bother to see,
what the whole poem was about.
I have since put a disclaimer on it,
in the very front, to warn a person
to read the whole poem.
For if they want to consider me a monster,
but it stops someone from abusing another,
I will smile that I have accomplished something.
For my Savior knows the truth,
of this teddy bear with a smile.

So I an a Catholic
in a bible belt,
who does not got to mass enough
but I will go this Easter Sunday
To pray for a miracle
Feeling again the need to ask again
For as a child so young
they said I had polio
And that upon seeing a Christmas tree
I arose from the vision crippling me
I guess He has something for me to do
But I will ask for his forgiveness
For even things
That I could never even commit
Never wishing harm on any one
Never harm on myself
For the miracle within me
Lies in the bullet of living
Teach others how special life is
By using his free speech in the beauty
Of open minds

So why does this poet need help
For he needs to move things
Into a new place
For his lease is up
On his birthday
At the end of April
I must have a garage sale
To dwindle down my inventory
to raise money to pay my taxes
to find a creative accountant
who does not create bankruptcies
for I must pay my bills
I just must

Maybe I could sell the rights
On how to not run a business
In corporate America
But with Enron
That may already be covered

I asked for a one-month extension
On one of the properties I leased
And was refused
This was an agency
Who in running my restaurant
Refused to put in heaters in
And had to use my pizza oven to heat it
I could not sub let it this winter
For who would want a place without heat
So I waited for my lease to expire
Paying every month for both places
Now I must clear both places
And fix them up
Knowing they might not give
my deposit back

While some may commit suicide
My bullet is life
But having been wounded from it
Without any projectiles
My bruises showing up in words
My life is my own misery
In the gift of writing
That some deem obscene
But this keeps me from hurting myself
In the depression of a closed mind
Unable to speak freely inside a dictatorship
Of other peoples assuming minds

So if you are riding around a town
And see a red truck with a broken window
Where someone broke into it
Look inside to see
if there is any poetry in it
then you might find
DAvID with little v in it

If you pass a empty restaurant
With some broken panes that need fixed
For when someone decided to display abuse
And if also see poetry in the other panes
To protect it from this abuse
Feel free to read it
for I have nothing to hide
Come in and help me please
For I need it emptied hopefully
In time to celebrate my birthday
In the strangeness of a new place

So if you want a good worker
And do not fear poetry
I may need a new job
Especially if human resources finds out
Who DAvID with a little v is.
For you why I need a miracle.

Thought: In the dark clouds that follow me, I feel like I am centuries old, in words of poetry the clouds open up into a beautiful rainbow of my youthful dreams.

DAvID 4/19/03

QjQ
Member Elite

since 2003-04-18

Posts 3756
U.S.A.

1 posted 2003-04-19 06:20 PM

A very interesting write,

passing shadows
Member Empyrean

since 1999-08-26

Posts 45577
displaced

2 posted 2003-04-20 03:34 AM

whew, I think I just crashed...that was long! I'll have to come back...

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