Twig by twig,
living a hollow,
dreaming a nest for the nestlings...
Chirpy screeching voices,
like lullaby to her ears
Awakening her sole purpose
A mother as well as a father figure
To protect
Nothing is too much
She'd feed herself to the tiger if she must
...
Breaking of a new dawn
another day to break
Until her nestlings can leave her nest
But never...
ever...
even so...
They are her own little royals,
forever ...
the only rulers of her life...

No tears if you see my back break
There ain't a limit to what I can take
On my life, you will never awake
In a strange house
With the screaming louder than the smell
I would gladly burn in Hell
Before you live in a car
Washing off wherever you are;
Gas station restrooms or a nasty hotel

No.
You won't ever miss school
Daddy will always take you
And you will never know that life
Or see the things I went through
Inebriated and incarcerated will never be me
I'll work every day to make the life I gave you easy

I'll not raise a hand to hurt you
Don't let that alert you
I'm just here to show you there
Is always a home to go to
And if things aren't always sound
And Mama's not around
You still won't be alone
I know it would be hard but I would keep you strong

No tears if you see my back break
I promise you now that I will work all my days
To see you have everything you need
Don't mislabel me as absentee
If that is how it has to be
I'll see you every minute I can spare

No tears if you see my back break
Only hard work spares the heartache

Happy fathers day
For the memories we've shared
To the ones we will go onto create

You're my idol due to:
Your persistent positive attitude
Despite all you've gone through

Perfection doesn't exist
But you're pretty **** close
It's due to you I strive to be happy
It's due to you I'm not fully broken

Thanks for everything

I never knew what it felt like to have my Mama up close,
Never knew what it felt like to be enveloped in a blanket wrapped in the scent of rose.
It was never what I chose,
To wear potato sacks instead of clothes.
To be raised in the streets,
Eating scraps instead of meats.
Sell my truths for their lies,
Turn my eyes into midnight spies.
Sell my dignity for impunity,
Only for a false hope of opportunity.
Hanging shoes from electric wires,
Hoping to not be spotted by the church choir.
I never chose this path,
It was the outcome of the opposite of my dad's wrath.
I lost him.
His lips sealed to the beer bottles rim,
The liquor is his blood spilling to the brim.
Just like for me are the drugs,
My deal with these truant thugs.
I never chose this death,
The toxic fumes my soul expels with every breath.
This is not living,
Reeking with the scent of misgiving.
No one trusts me,
I can't ever remember feeling glee.
I miss you dad,
Your sadness before the world is now unclad.
My hands wield pocket  Knives instead of pens,
Protecting myself in the alleyways every bend.
I knew better than to wish upon a star that was just a satellite,
I knew that someday my heart would explode with overwhelming feelings like dynamite.
Looking into his eyes was like facing an endless void that would swallow you if you got too near,
Not longer can I stand this manipulative atmosphere.
Since mama left,
Papa feels this burdening heft.
As I lie under the midnight sky,
I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to fly.
I smile for the first time,
Regretting all my crimes.
And cry…
“Mama I'm coming home…”
I hope to quit this endless roam… “until the day I live”.

When I was just a little kid
Uncle Jeff talked to me
About the things people said
As opposed to what I could see.
He cautioned me to listen
And watch people carefully
He promised me an education,
Just made for little me.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

There are those who even as children
Prefer what other kids get
They grow up to be criminals
So you must not forget.
Another word for criminals
Is a word called ‘politicians’.
They’re very strong with cheating
But not good at admissions.

Money in their bank account
Is all that’s driving them.
Look for their integrity?
The pickings will be slim.
They look for what they can get
From you in many ways.
The cards are marked, you can depend
And they know all the plays.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

You and they don’t think alike;
You can’t guess what they think.
But you can bet when they suggest
The idea will highly stink.
Your best protection is to hide
When these creeps are around.
If you have to pack your things
And move to a different town.

I have learned my Uncle Jeff
Was wise beyond his years.
He had a lot of wisdom stored
Securely between his ears.
He shared them with a little child
And I listened to what he said.
I heard his words as clean pure truth
And kept them in my head.

Do they walk their talk
When no one is around?
Do they mean the words they say, or
Is it just a lot of sound?
Do you feel you can trust them
With what you put away?
Or do you think they will cheat you
And take it for their rainy day?

The Agèd Hands of Time have reached yet another
toll of the bell.

12 years have passed since I’ve last seen her in this life.
Distance and sickness in our being had robbed us both
of streams of time which passed like a long cold winter
into her death. These lost memories often create over-
exposed and superimposed photo negatives of imaginary
frames of time I desperately imprint to hold tightly in my
heart and mind.

But I still hold tightly in memory to her soft voice on the
phone and pictures of split second frames of physical
time my sister would send me. Many people don’t even
have that.

In this life she loved to mother her three grown children
and flower garden as near as
she could to the end. It was
in her nature to nurture us--
her perennial children--
and to help make the move easier for her literal annual foster children plants taken
from a confined potted existence to a deep soft warm bed of comfort.

Stamped on my mind is not the faded and worn, bruised
and torn image of her outward shell in the Trauma
Center at age 88, but the indelible inner and outward
image at age 38: a lovely young mama who tucked her
little boy in bed every night with a song and a prayer.
The little boy that is still alive in this man.

The Agèd Hands of Time have reached yet another
toll of the bell.

By Arcassin Burnham


I could learn a million things in the world leaning
towards my demise in the long run,

I'll Never hear another time my mom would say
"i'm pound son",

Troublesome in a world where trouble will follow
you,

Keep a piggy bank for how many times they insult you,

Life can't be all for nothing so play your part until
the end,
stay away from ******* man stay away from the sin,

This isn't reality , its more to life than you know,
No one will hand out pity anymore , i don't need it so,

I'm not trying to be a teacher,
But i could show you how to live,

You talking to the wrong preacher,
People are behind your back with a shiv,

This the world that they portray,
And we all just living in hell,

watch you feelings all decay,
And nobody can't even tell.

There's a lot more to the world
Than what meets the eye
Physical intimacy laced with
Eradicating emotion
There's no time in the universe
In which peace can be acquired
The day the earth stands still
Is the day we know what comes next
In a memory flashing by your mind
Just sputtering through the motions
But suddenly you're caught in derealization
And you can hear her voice again
Clear as wedding bells
A young girl reading sermons
To a man passed out drunk, and the woman who made him that way
I was just 4 when I first tasted beer
And I vomited all over myself
I was just 8 when I first tasted liquor
And I don't remember much else
Chicken wings with candles
And the songs my mother used to sing to me
The way she'd crawl in bed with me
In times of drunken solitude
Ungrateful **** of a daughter
Who should've been aborted,
Well I tried, mama, I tried
Now that you're gone and you are nothing more than ashen memories
I look at you in your black box prison
With your name pasted to the front
And I tell you all the ways I have already died
I tell you all the ways I don't feel alive.
The way you screamed for help at the top of the stairs
And he's shoving he's pushing and you can't run
And I'm still here
And I'm still here fighting him away
He says he can't sleep in beds without you anymore
And coming home from 2nd grade
Police badges light up the front porch
And they're shoving you they're pushing and you can't run
And you're in handcuffs
And his arm is bleeding
the young man told me I was not alone
And falling apart on your floor
At a ripe 5 years old
And I'm crying I'm sobbing and you don't care
And I scream
And you don't love me anymore
The piano goes quiet
And after grandpa died
she took all his medicine
Muscle relaxers and pain killers and the daily *****
And anger
And she screamed at the walls she called god
For taking her children away
It was her all along
I do not hold grudges
But it took you dying for me to hold that promise
It took you dying for forgiveness
The family shuns me like how they did you
Black sheep we are
Your ashes lay on the table beside my bed
With fake vanilla candles that light up all kinds of colors
And I tell you all the ways I have already died
I tell you all the ways that I do not feel alive.

Everything I say bounces off the walls in your brain.
The drink made you insane-
I've seen it once, I see it again,
I prepare myself for another bitter end.
It's relentless, it's hopeless
The way you give in
It's just like how my mother made you
Bury yourself in sin.
It's my childhood all over again.
Everyone tells me I don't deserve this;
I didn't deserve any of it.
I'm not a *****,
But I'm *******,
Microwave your mind's eye
And I'll be busy rebuilding mine.
It's a level of a detachment
That mingles wth dissociation.
The creak of the wheel turning in your head-
It's falling off the track.
You are not my father
When you are drunk.