victor-trippWhisper

American

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WELCOME HOME BY VICTOR TRIPPyour love surrounds me,in a crowd of many,your searching eyes found me,your arms are the gates that open wide,to take my life in , saying silently you belong,welcome home.

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uncle funky the peanut man by victor tripp of phillyI never knew his real name and my youthful imagination named him uncle funky the peanut man as bagged peanuts burnt were hopefully sold from a makeshift stand now on this June 2013 morning my mind slowly opens the door of youthful memory and I see soiled pants turned over shoes old hat crooked atop long gray hair brown hands waiting for a dollar exchange as funk clings to the untended skin like fleas on a homeless dog whiffs released randomly would stagger a prime boxer the times changed with the town sweeping uncle funky away with yesterday and the past of bygone days and I wonder and it is"t a very pleasant wonder whatever happened to uncle funky? / ut to be sold hopefully from a makeshift stand now on this june 2013 morning my mind opens the door of youthful memory and I see clearly soiled pants and shirt old hat atop of unseen hair brown hands waiting for a dollar exchange as funk clings to the unbathed skin like fleas on a homeless dog whiff released would stagger a prime boxer the times changed with the town sweeping uncle funky away with yesterday and the past of bygone days but I wonder and it isn"t a very pleasant wonder whatever happened to uncle funky the peanut man?

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THE SINNER REGRETS BY VICTOR TRIPPthe sinner regrets ,he was unable to pray today, o lord. the sinner regrets, he was unable to pray today-he was sorry prayer was delayed' but yesterday in a lover's arms to long he stayed,o lord. the sinner regrets he was unable to pray today. when he realized and found, that the love was gone,o lord, he went after the woman who led him astray, but he was shot by her husband along the way, o lord. the sinner regrets he was unable to pray today, o lord. when blood came rushing out of his side,tears of repentance filled his eyes, o lord.he passed away on a ***** city street, and was given only a moment to cry. looking up to Heaven he died, o lord. the sinner regrets, he was unable to pray today.

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MASTERPIECE BY VICTOR TRIPPLike an artist, creating, his very own, masterpiece, on fine,canvas, in creative,brush strokes, of mental, thoughts, within the mind, I created you, before, your presence,came forth, masterpiece in body, and thought, masterpiece, of my own,design, for all, the world, to see, a masterpiece, that changed, even me, painted,beauty, in real,vision, that my eyes, beheld, in human,form, masterpiece of elegance

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SONG YET SUNG BY VICTOR TRIPPthe plantation that housed both my body mind soul had fallen on hard times.union soldiers had plundered the crops and taken every thing worth stealing.when word spread from plantation to plantation that president abreham Lincoln had something called the emancipation prolimantion that set us fre and we were no longer enslaved . able bodied and once docile slaves ran of in all directions but I stayed behind with the old and spirit weary faithful who seemed dazed and listless.my mistres was the only white face among us.i still wore the faint imprint of the daily chains worn like bracelets .that spring day in the kitchen while preparing black coffee and biscuits the little left for mistress and me I felt eager white hands on my breasts,than the cloth shirt hiding my nakedness was ripped away as pink hard manhood invaded my insides.the intense pain rocked all senses and tears flooded out like a dam unloosed.my screams bounced off each enclosed wall.yet no one came to make it stop.as he rode the waves of his personal pleasure my shut off mind could see visions of running through creek beds and swimming through rivers with a knapsack with two linen shirts two pairs of pants one jacket one pair of shoes one pair of socks parting gifts from my mistress tied atop my wooly head and most of al being able to sing with a loud free voice a song yet sung.

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PLEASE STAY BY VICTOR TRIPP OF PHILLYyou're the very reason that I hold on . the inspiration for this song made this man into a ever lasting believer surrender throws my hands up in the air inside said show me something faith said come closer if you dare sweet love each time felt pouring through convincing beyond any doubt that I can't live without you so love away please stay you already know I can't play the game of round and round up and down people go in spite of brokenness anyway so love away please stay such wonderful love has my soul craving and i'm the one that you're affection is saving so love away please stay lord I want you to stay

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COLTRANE BY VICTOR TRIPPhis name was John Coltrane, and when his long fingers,touched tenor saxophone keys, his notes slapped jaded, sullen attitudes, about jazz, including my own, musical notes ,leaped, bent, twisted, soaredin the air, as he played ,with eyes closed, as if lost in,a personal dream, the saxophone moaned, cried. whispered, told the good news, on the mountaintop, Coltrane was in the house, rocking it, he did it,simply, yet, unlike any other,ever heard before ,that moment, gone now, in the shadows of time, but his music, remains, still gathers new followers attention,pointing ,an indignant finger of cool, at those, who wish, they knew,coltrane, before he left, the station

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AUTUMN'S LAST LIGHT BY VICTOR TRIPP IN MEMORY OF AUTUMN PASQUALEcoming up autumn you were a loving playful tyke,just to lose your 12 year old life last year,to two brothers from the neighborhood who lied and stole your BMX bike.and if that wasn't enough for your DADDY and family to stand,i remember the case unfolding on tv news and I your DADDY recently kneeling on a football field next to your initials in a park that will be dedicated in your memory and tears came to my eyes ,and the daily news informed me about the anger in that town,which I can understand with you AUTUMN no longer around.a waitness at / barbar

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JOEL AND SENA BY VICTOR TRIPPJoel's ten month old only child, a son, had just started walking as Joel was sentenced to jail for three to six months for fighting, after charges had been filed against him. Each time a court hearing was set Joel went, but the dates were always post phoned. Joel meet Sena a tall dark skinned buxom twenty nine old French speaking woman, just off the coast of Ghana. They married and through mutual friends came to America,and settled in Germantown. Sena spoke French to her dacca. She was a devoted mother and wife. Each time that Sena dropped her child off at daycare, she covered dacca's face with kisses,before heading for the indoor fruit stand that employed her. Joel always cocky and prideful,all of his life,drove a black Lincoln with his girlfriend closer than a flea on a dog, and met sales quotas when required. Granted one phone call from jail, Joel spoke with his rejected wife Sena, asking for bail money, his once proud and sarcastic voice breaking. A lawyer informed Sena that since charges had been filed ,the conviction had to stand. Joel now sits in a shared cell occasionally looking through the steel bars in lock down, gazing up at stars that he once rode and walked under freely.

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KING BY VICTOR TRIPP OF PHILLYI am king appointed by God and the sun is my trampoline work of artistry, the sun is my private stock color, the moon is my faithful broken stallion in the sky, my own sundown I capture blue clouds with silver chains mixed with gold, I make steady the day with wind gusts of playing leaves running and hiding, the day is my sweet, sassy song of joy to God , the world is mountain tall waiting to be climbed, the world is my many colored coat designed with rainbows, stars, sunshine, clouds, trees, grass, shy, trees, worn buttoned yet loose, the world is a painting on my wall of my house

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