"boondocks" poems
my mother has blue eyes
but I'm still a ******
my mother has blonde hair
but I'm still a ******
my daddy is black as night
but I'm still a *******
my daddy has ***** curls
but I'm still a *******
I call this hash tag the struggle
because to be biracial is nothing
more
because to be biracial is nothing
less
than a struggle
to find who I am
to find who I should be
to find who I'm supposed to be
i really wish they were the same person
i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle
but you don't
and you won't
so stop telling me about my
good hair
and stop telling about my high
yellow skin
and stop telling me my parents have the fever
and stop staring at me when I
walk in
and stop trying to guess which parent is black
and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish
No
I'm not Spanish.
No
I don't speak Spanish.
No
You CANNOT touch my hair
Yes, my nose is in the air
Of course I think I'm the ****
Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with
...out of my control
Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox
who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks
See you don't even know me
but you think these are my goals
see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole
when you're given two halves
that don't match to patch up one soul
and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know
and they tell you to ignore them all
be yourself
race should not define you
but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test
because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you
hash tag
TheStruggle
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
Everything is a paradox
From the fireflies to the boondocks
There is no paradigm
No pattern to be followed
You have to climb
Through the slime
the crime
the grime.
Time?
None.
Everyone will be outdone
In a world where anyone
Gets a trophy for their shelf
It's all about yourself
Relax while you can
Doctors, rapists, the businessman
Set fire to the bible
This is it, you're tribal
**** until you die!
Drink, steal, lie.
Because nothing matters.
Now go,
run,
scatter.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 3:14 AM UTC
Hypermart.
News on air.
Boondoggles,
owl ogles,
ongoing.
Jaywalking.
Reverse gear.
Biting into ginger.
Hindsight: familiar.
Slow down,
observant mirror.
Heartwringing.
Twigs
flying in a whirl.
Coiled up cord;
Snakes from the past.
Boondocks,
hornswoggling,
heartwarming.
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC
In the Boondocks of the Ozarks
Salty caramel smelt of August
Swathes stench of rotten trailer parks
Imprisons barren mid-west dust
Feral fevered kids a hunting
For to cool; shoot up, or drink
Arthritic railroad; tie and shunting
Ferrous old town wretched on the brink
Since the cease of mine and logging
Depletion of iron lead and zinc
Nag horse too dead for flogging
Folks futures draining down the sink
Some respite in the summer heat
RV’s; tourists and campers for trails
Like blackfly plague pick off the meat
Fly fast; escape as another harvest fails
Dark currents pepper darker mood
Intolerance grinds in the daily way
Resentment bread as only food
At someone’s door the blame shall lay
In the graveyard of the Ozarks
Rednecks dance on industry tombs
Burn brown smoke spice. Moonshine sparks
Oblivion; no life. Back to mothers' womb
©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:06 AM UTC
The undercurrents of society flow,
Like dreaming fog lights caught in the undertow.
A lone warrior fights only with himself,
So that soon one day he can be put on the shelf,
Ready to be picked at the drop of a hat,
Sadly misused I know not what is said.
Forty two mistletoe drive is where my baby lies,
Under the shade of my boondocks ride,
So long and farewell my princess belle,
No two times go together very well.
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC
all i see now are the silent ruin
of words teeming with wisdom
in every trail. you are gleaming
in the moony boondocks,
Ibabá remembers you as you were -
timeless and ruminative,
pursuing the source of rivers.
our sublime versifier,
the crucifixes now tremble without
the fullness of your flesh.
each page is turned without
the hover of your voice yet
stills its resonant message in my mind's premises like redolent graffiti.
striding river-pace,
once in moonlit Orfeo
graced by your sibilant being,
leaving only the strongest of impression
on the surly couch, a toppled glass
of Shiraz remembering your attendance
leaving the clamor of the audiences
real to touch, elusive in thought.
before the war was the ever-present word, and after the fray was
the armistice of the Sun where in
humdrum Sampiro, your fire's genealogy
is in the hands of the muse!
idly go the hours, wading everlong past
Calle Herrán - the bells of Paco Church
tell in this imperfect hour
the roads where you once traversed,
travailed and perhaps beer-maddened,
putting a face in the metaphysical!
in your banquet i partake
the wisdom of your wine
and the reason of your flesh -
the gods delight in you,
o, Manila of all Manila.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 2:05 AM UTC
Gilded cage so small and tiny
Even singing comes out whiny
Stinking of fake fresh and piney
Tis the season
Leaking water warm and briny
With good reason
Christmas cheer and glasses toast
Loved ones smile and laugh and boast
I sit perched upon my post
A tinsled column
Invisible reluctant host
A heart that's solemn
A longing for a love so distant
The melancholy is persistent
A smile could erase it in an instant
On a face cherubic
For my heart is not resistent
It's theraputic
So that smile that is perfection
Is mirrored in my own reflection
Without a thought about rejection
Hallucinations
About the subtlest inflection
In Salutations
Surrounded by the merrily intense
With drunkard tendencies immense
A bar with all accoutrements
They pound tequila
Drinking away the sacraments
Oh yes, I feel ya
Merry time with old Kris Kringle
Guests all lubed enough to mingle
Mistletoe hangs and sleigh bells jingle
Gifts homemade
Tables adourned and glasses tingle
Gold brocade
Still I sit all caged and flightless
Blind to joy all sad and sightless
Drink could make it hurt a mite less
I'm going backward
Laying here all limp and lifeless
Broke and fractured
Surrounded by the fake and vexing
Artificial and quite perplexing
Reality they are rejecting
The devil may care
Bellies bare and muscles flexing
Lost underwear
So ******* dancing to the jukebox
Lost alone here in the boondocks
There is no snow upon the rooftops
Ahead they forge
Find a room before that thing pops
It's so engorged
Neighbor ***** all dressed in orange
Wearing gold to make the poor cringe
Stripping time to fill her syringe
I'll be her hinderance
Still too drunk from her last binge
Faulty remembrance
Ridding riff raff from the party
People still drunk on Bacardi
Noxious gasses burp and farty
With toilets makeshift
Worn out makeup on the smarty
She needs a facelift
Time to let the people go
Too tired to keep watching the show
Drinking hard and walking slow
Verbose yet listless
Honey I don't want to know
It's not my business
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Tomorrow...Life as I know it will change forever.
I will no longer wake up to my cat beside me.
My mom will never wake me up at 5 AM with vacuuming again.
My family won't randomly jump on my bed to say good morning.
My mom will never run down the stairs to tell me something incredibly stupid that she knows I'd laugh at because I'm easily amused.
No more random "let's go to willy's" wake up calls. No more let's hang out today from my best friends. Skype will be the only time I actually see their faces for months.
No more driving to see friends just because I need a hug or a friendly smile.
My grandparents are no longer just 45 mins away.
No more berkeley bowl, random morning runs, or swimming adventures.
No more NFL street with my little brother.
No more loudly playing music and dancing like a maniac...because no one really understands that side of me except friends and family.
No more LA Ink with my mom...or laughing at boondocks at midnight.
When I cry...it'll finally be alone...instead of me isolating myself.
I'm realizing more than ever that I'll miss my chaotic life. The things that use to **** me off seem silly...I'm over the annoyances.
I love all of you dearly...and will miss you.
Its time to close my bedroom door for the final time...and accept that I'll only be a visitor when I return.
New life to come...new obstacles to tackle...
Finally time to accept that the only constant in life is change...and of course the people that help me do so :)
Once again...love you all.
The college student,
Rissa
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 12:03 PM UTC
F*ck you for encouraging me to take out more than I needed
F*ck you for not explaining the difference between subsidized and unsubsidized
F*ck you for judging my eligibility based on my parent’s income and not my own
F*ck you for pretending to look out for my best interest
F*ck you for making me decide on whether to pay you, or go to the hospital
F*ck you for harassing me via phone and email
F*ck you for transferring my loans to a different company
F*ck you for asking for money back BEFORE I graduated
F*ck you for asking for money AFTER I graduated with NO job
F*ck you for asking for MORE money after I got a job
F*ck you for transferring my loans to a different company (again)
F*ck you for suggesting a 30year repayment plan
F*ck you for the high interest rates that negate the payments I was able to make
F*ck you for adjusting my repayment plan without my consent
F*ck you for suggesting a lower monthly payment as I crept toward full repayment
F*ck your shoes with the belts on them (Boondocks)
And F*ck Donald Trump
This is America sucka. The land of the free, and home of the brave
Not the sea of debt and house of enslavement
So, Fck you from the bottom of my heart, and if you call me again I’m gonna slap the sht out of you
Goodbye forever
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
The undercurrents of society flow,
Like dreaming fog lights caught in the undertow.
A lone warrior fights only with himself,
So that soon one day he can be put on the shelf,
Ready to be picked at the drop of a hat,
Sadly misused I know not what is said.
Forty two mistletoe drive is where my baby lies,
Under the shade of my boondocks ride,
So long and farewell my princess belle,
No two times go together very well.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
You will not hear the ticking clock,
For hath the phantom hour loom—
As the frigid air stirs and flocks.
I hear the vi’lent click. A lock.
All sounds succumb to the raucous boom.
You will not hear the ticking clock.
The shadows one cannot outwalk—
In fear and gloom, they loom and bloom,
As the frigid air stirs and flocks.
Where yon might lie in satin frock,
In barren and desolate room—
You will not hear the ticking clock.
The raven squawks its final squawk,
And falls to the ground—we presume—
As the frigid air stirs and flocks.
Run from Death—to hills and boondocks—
He’ll find you in the spumes and flumes!
You will not hear the ticking clock.
As his frigid hands stir and flock.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 3:16 PM UTC
Looks like its back
Back to beer bottles
Back to juke boxes
That won't play David Bowie
No matter how much I ask
Just when I thought I was a real boy
My strings tangled
And I fell flat on my face
Another walk home
Drunk
It's great to live out in the boondocks
Not a soul to bother
I can lay out in the stars
And smoke cigarettes
And write poetry
Sometimes I ***** out loud to god
But really
Who am I to whine
Ive worked hard
To be able to play my own David Bowie records
As loud as I want
With the front door wide open
Laying in the lawn
Singing along
Singing along
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 11:03 PM UTC
I stumble
Tripping over knotted roots
Slashing my shins across thorns
Panting from sheer exhaustion
Tasting the salty burn of sweat on my lips
Collapsing under the pressure
Crushing dead leaves underfoot…
…and all sense of hope.
How did I get here?
And more importantly, how do I get out?
Only you can save me from the this wilderness
This desolate abyss
Reach out
Please
You owe it to me
For I got lost here searching for you.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
I’m an African
Am a ture African
Am from the Land of the Red, Gold, Green
The land with its soil as fertile as the womb of the ****** Mary
I look at the World map and just the sight of the curves of Mama Africa arouses me......
see Is that piece not Hyde? Cos this shape de3 a no go lie,
It's set ablaze like the holy ghost fire
Hotter than the ghost pepper my mouth watery “aahh a Don tier"
Cos it' even tickles a shatta in the trousers and I feel it's movement against Newtons law of motion
Even Just the shape of the map of Africa already causing commotion
Hook
Africa 2×
We be one Africa aa
(Eeii ya one Africa)
Africa 2×
Ghana mother land
(Eeii ya my mother land )
Me mey3 Oman ba pa
Mey3 Oman Ghana dehye3 ankasa
The white man came to my land and with the sole purpose of preaching the gospel even when we had no chapel
Later maneuvered his way to barter trade our gold and valuable resources with hard liquor
And in a short while I mean a flicker, they captured my people and enslaved us into hard labour
And on 6 March 1957 a revolution lead by Dr. Kwame Nkrumah fought and led us to our independence
Chorus
I'm a free man free man
I said I'm a free man
(Eeii ya)
I'm a free man
I'm a free man
I'm a free man
(Eeii ya)
Freedom made me a free man even though I ain't the tritagonist of The Boondocks
I hear the reverb of Nkrumah's voice recurring out loud in my ears just like a jukebox
"(Sample)Ghana our beloved country is free forever.... (In Nkrumah's Voice)"
Meney3 anomaa, na 3mom membowa
Efiris3 afidea biara 3nheneme ( mom pene me3) (herrrrrrrrrr)
Na mey3 odefo) ahh me kuraa mens3m tumi
Oh yes I'm a free human being with an Independent will
A will that I will **** for, for real, because being a slave is just sick, I need a pill.
Repeat hook and chorus
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 6:30 AM UTC
sirens wail a razor tune
like the metal wind
scraping the side of my ear
i pull my jaw agape
in a lake of starry glass
we run our fingers
through a godly, wispy beard
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 10:54 AM UTC
I never thought the day would come
When I would see your name and feel absolutely nothing,
When I would come upon the once pernicious presence
That stormed and screamed through the boondocks of my mind
And find that it had ceased to be anything more than a weakly nostalgic echo.
I never thought I’d be able to go a day, two days, a week, a month
Without thinking of you, or that I would come across an old photograph
And notice for the first time the myriad of imperfections you possess.
I never thought I would ever be able get to this point, this place of utter indifference.
But here I am, entirely free of the ties that bound me to you.
And for the first time in a long time I can say with some shred of confidence
That I am happy.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
I'm high
So high
So high I barely feel the alcohol
So high my teeth are grinding into each other, I can hear their gnawing bone through my skull...
So high I'm flexing in-&-out of 5 of cups/5 of swords feels
In-&-out of 9 of cups/ace of cups feels
I don't want to sleep
I'm not sure if I want to speak to anyone, yet the thought that everyone is dead to the world makes me slightly sad
I wish I had a body like an instagram model. I wish I had an unlimited supply of molly.
Now I wish I had a car.
I'd drive 80mp into the middle-of-not-here
I'd listen to jointy, artful goth techno.
I'd continue to wonder if there is anything to patch up the hole inside-just right.
My head-space searching for things to sew in the fear or guilt.
Your peers think you're a ******* freak.
They think youre a toxic idiot.
They think youre homely and annoying.
Drive faster.
You don't give a **** what they think!
You know that if any of these people, that hardly know you-think any of that. It's exaggerated and unimportant.
Turn the volume up.
Nothing is real. Really.
Everything is a choice and decision.
You're deciding to be happy. Better than ok. Better than anything.
Thousands of days spent before. Rocking backnforth. In your bed. In the corner on the floor. The bathroom at work.
None of this terror is news. And none of it was ever enjoyable. So why the **** do you entertain it?
You remember joy. Peace of mind.
You're in control.
I really like this song. Volume higher. Alone in the boondocks. I'm alone in the darkness. The only sign of life my heartbeat&breath.;
terror to rejection. Always glancing over your shoulder. To maintain perfection. So you don't get clipped. So no one else abandons or abuses you.
You keep your heart in plexiglass.
Cloud your eyes from the opportunity to be vulnerable.
But can you trust?
I pull away. To discern contrast. To discern how I really feel.
You still choose a plan B. You can't seem to release that.
You need to find your self love. Recover it. That which has been taken from you-before you had the chance to cultivate it.
Self certainty.
I need the potion. So I never forget this cyclical pep talk.
I keep looking for that potion in ***** drugs. Positive reinforcement from others, outside of myself.
I'm so high. I need...
I need....
I'm alright.
I'm ******* happy.
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 3:37 AM UTC
I survived things I thought were worth fighting for.
I survived worse things, so now I'm fighting forward.
I survived cursed things, that frightened more.
I survived things I fought but been slighted for.
I survived having to make ends meet.
I survived splashing cause the pool was more than 10 ft.
I survived a thrashing & jabbing the ****** concrete.
I survived the teeth gnashing cause we ain't have nothing to eat.
I survived about at least 4 foreclosures.
I survived ignoring doubt, just for closure.
I survived things that ended in my own exposure.
I survived enduring drought just for full disclosure.
I survived being back-stabbed and betrayed by my beloved.
I survived being flayed, filleted and flummoxed.
I survived being led to the lake by the lazy lummox.
I survived both blades and flames in my stomach.
I survived dreams where I was falling.
I survived falling forward on the path of my calling.
I survived calling it quits on the plans of my offing.
I survived apples with poisoned pits , that were offered.
I survived having to spare shekels and hide.
I survived my very own version of Jekyll and Hyde.
I survived diluted deities, Ms. Dee Dee and diabetes.
I survived debbie downers and debutantes.
I survived double doubters and deadly taunts.
I survived some double crossings - dealing haunts,
I survived tempted tantrums and tethered thoughts.
I survived the boondocks and the tricks of the babadook.
I survived bad trips and the trips that papa took.
I survived self destruction of the 3rd degree.
I survived self construction with less debris....
Jul 2, 2024
Jul 2, 2024 at 6:23 PM UTC
Lets Celebrate,
i did something good,
I did something amazing.
I said lets celebrate.
We can go to the mall,
go to Lagoon,
we can go to boondocks,
We can go out to dinner
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC