The Cunning Linguist | Poetry Vibe
The Cunning Linguist
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 13800
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lightness in the dark
For every beautiful woman that you see somewhere, somewhere there's a man who's tired of looking at her.

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Dead & Gone

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Yesterday I dozed in sleep amidst my lonely sheets, I dreamt a dream that made me wish someone was holding me,
when I awoke I tasted tears, a man as strong as me, reduced to childlike quivers by my loved ones long deceased.

My dad was there among the folk and yes my head was gone, interpreting a visit from my peoples dead and gone,
I wondered what I did or if some thing I said was wrong, my mouth stayed shut instead to try and see this thread along.

Mi padre’ Mr. Lewis, first and middle name like mine, I saw his face and recognized he hadn’t changed with time,
considering he passed June 8th of 1-9-7-5, that’s 2 months and 11 days before the heavens pried,

me from the safety of the womb, the safety of its’ tomb, he took my hand to follow him and then I bravely drew,
a breath to just inquire if indeed I too had lapsed, into the sleep of death but I could not unglue my yap.

He motioned me to come along like there was nothing wrong, a feeling then embraced me like hug or something strong,
we walked along a little bit and then we softly stopped, and what I saw though sleeping deep just made my heartbeat drop.

I felt my tears begin to fall inside my storied sleep, while staring at the face of Ms. Victoria McKie,
and she was not alone, beside her, my granddaddy Pierce, my thoughts became real manic, Lord please get me outta here.

I saw my uncle Charlie with that smile of his intact, he’s talkin bout D’Antoni hurting Kobe while he laughs,
it hit me how I missed him, wished that I could thank this man, for he helped make me who I am, a man and Lakers’ fan.

My auntie Jackie’s there with Jared who’s my little cuz, his time in life impacted greatly, little that it was, I see my grandma Janie Lewis and she pulls me close, I feel her love go through me, it’s that love I need the most.

While lost in the bewilderment this nap has led me on, I wonder why I’m here amidst the spirits; dead and gone,
my father’s arm around my shoulders shake me from my zone, he whispers that it’s time for him to go and take me home.

I try and stop the tears, I can’t, so I just let em flow, my dad then says “That anger son, you have to let it go,
your life is just a journey to a better place in time, you have a lot to live for and it’s not your place to die,
 

at least not yet” he chuckles softly just to kiss my cheek, he holds me out at both arms’ length while staring wistfully,
“You are my only son, I love you more than you could know”, the last thing I remember is him saying “You should go.”

I woke up in my bed at 6:19 on Monday eve, the dream was still so vivid like a vision haunting me,
I’ve been awake since then and yes the time has sped along, I should feel tired; all I feel is love that’s dead and gone.

©2013
The Cunning Linguist
 

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