Toni_touch | Poetry Vibe
Toni_touch
This poet practices good karma and posts comments 2100

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MAJOR GENERAL

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Total poems   62
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Something I Don't Know

CATEGORY

life

Views: 270

 I'm well aware of the actual factuality of this sidewinding
fork-tongued snake of a road less traveled in the
pursuit of happiness.
Star nebula narcotic smiles from pretty girls kissing boys in school staircases.
Everything was shades of gray then.
Hue sharing with eight year old house socks on a floor
that hasn't been mopped in more than thrirty days time.
Hide and seek was simple in the times when all players were small enough to
fit in the cupboards beneath the kitchen sink.
Tell me something I don't know.

The sun was a ten cent Sugar Daddy
in the olden, golden, Crayola crayon days,
only devastation ever faced was when the teacher ***ed up and bought Prang.
Scratching little girl excema arms,
the only fly in the soup where the broth screams "mira, mira"
Little Tubman, Turner, Oprah Winfrey lass lassoing tears like raging bull
ashamed to ask why no one else colors their self-portraits with brown crayon.
The rude reality of our absence in the winner's circles of society,
sans mic or basketball stays ever-present.
Tell me something I don't know.

Delfonic days with dad in the livingroom ,
lay the sweet atop the bitter of those primary school night terrors.
Stevie singing over the stove frying sweet plantains before work,
he gave her the music in her eyes.
Eyes gazed glazed over cannibus kissed sweetly from the pucker point of a
partner in crime.
Shh, she tells the shadows on her ceiling just as dawn is break vandalizing the night.
Broadway musicals on her bedroom walls glow cherry and tangerine,
and although she's had no sleep to speak of she watches intently.
Never speaking.
Smiley faced facade when they ask whats wrong.
Hiding from nightmare is no unfamiliar act.
Tell me something I don't know.

Tell me love unbetrayed by the need to see me nude.
Kool-aid sweet pinky links that leave you smiling diabetes.
The puppy love for the grown es and pitbulls.
Lie-less renditions of responses to
"how was your day honey?"
Tell me the truth of what lies beyond big brown eyes,
a bit too asian for her island heritage.
The ones linked to mattresses when viewed by the old and perverted.
Tell me when it was considered ok for older cousins to tell
ten year old girls to shake their money makers.
Enlighten me to the event that led to lack-luster smiles in jubilant situations.
The lies and fornication that play in HD picture quality ,
over and over in her remembrance.
How I wish it was imagination.
Tell me something I don't know.

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