Tis quiet
When I wake
The rest, in sleepful slumber

Not me,I partake
The bitterwine of insomnia
Sometimes, sips alone
Bare enough to fill a quill.

Sometimes, cups so deep
That one forgets the state
Called sleep, and tours
The town, called Stumble

Tonight's draught, a nip or two
Just enough, to say to you
Treasure the wakeful nights
When you sit and delight
In the quiettetude  of a house a'slumber
All loved, all safe,  and well
This is the ***** of a pilfered night
Taken from the restful isle
To watch and pray, and smile.

Let’s not forget our childhoods
Like playing in the rain, getting drench, and loving it
The scene I remembered most, was i watching Peggy the small dog,
in the window across the street.
While, the neighbors keep up their lawns, and areas neatly pruned
With the dull chopping sound of the cutlasses, early in the morning:

I generally held a book close to my face, while reading
But somehow, on that day, I kept  staring at the house across the street
I don’t remember if I had done my chores or not,
before the lady in this photo came home that day for lunch.
For her, it was all about keeping up appearances,
Dinner at six, all school shoes must be polished before seven
and our Immaculate uniforms, must be hanging on the ironing board.

And no matter what,
all lights must be out before ten o’clock.
“Don’t forget to say your goodnight Prayers, she would have said”
Lately I've been thinking about childhood a lot

Suddenly, my thoughts turned to my first soap opera, Peyton Place,
Woody Allen, Mia farrow, and all my childhood memories came to a haul with…images of my friend Dolly Benskin and her daughter Paige:
Paige die at an early age: which haunted me for years..
why so young?

I use to love smoking candy cigarettes, but not between my toes
This morning of all mornings,
bonds with the carpet fibers is a piece of candy

Stop meddling in other people's business
They dash their words against the walls
As if to advertises,  hatred of the human race.
The higher they climb,
the more you can see their disgusting parts

They comes off as useless quacksalver,
A waste of energy, a waste of space,
Words, words, mere words no matter from the heart
They form clichés, and spin the bottles
An idle mind is the devil’s playground
They smile in an annoying self-satisfied manner.
As if bitterness would bring them happiness
                
Who Am I?

This is my family
splayed out like a fox
caught in the headlights of a
passing car, all brown fur
& wandering teeth,
dried up & tossed on a lonely street.
Left behind unaware of
the wreckage caused,
the family bereft of a sister
 & daughter so loved.
That's what I see from the clouds,
from my imagined suicide.
I see a lost family
trying not to stare at a
huge empty chair.
A Christmas table now a shadow,
not a celebration but a day to fear
& that stops any thoughts I
might have about trying to
disappear.

A young girl,
Face pressed against the glass
‘You’re too young to go in there.
You’re not allowed past.
You must wait outside and do no more than look in.’
But the glass is shattered,
it impedes my vision
And the shards tear through my skin.

The picture is too broken to see what went on,
Smeared blood obscuring where the damage came from.
I can see a clock on the wall,
Time is frozen
But the big hand points to you -
I can just make out you’re all there.

I scream
I bang
I cry for you.
I wound myself further in the confusion,
And when you finally look up from the confines you’re in
There is no movement.
Just a distant sign for me that says
‘stay strong’
I don’t understand what’s going on,
Strong for what, for who?
Why can’t I come in there with you?
Please someone tell me what’s happening.

I’m bleeding; you’re all bleeding,
But still I don’t know why.
Old enough to know the colours,
but too young for where they came from.
Close enough to hear the screaming,
too far from the cries.
Too young,
Too young.
Not young enough.

You were all on the hour and I am frozen at six,
the little hand
Behind that pain spattered pane that splintered my heart.

All of your blood was spilt too,
Just on the inside of the glass
By the clock in that room where you all were together,
That I was allowed to see,
but not to touch.
I wanted in,
but there was no choice,
My blood had to stay on the outside with the dust.

it's nice how we all came together
to have this reunion day
a lot has changed since we've seen each other
but some things never go away

eyes look toward the lesser blessed
without understanding of their soul
we think we know a lot about each other
but some things we will never know

disgust on faces and ***** looks
she will never be our kind
voices mutter words of judgment
from behind the defining line

a woman walks off into the rain
as a Cadillac pulls away
they will never know her pain
at least not on this reunion day