"tompkins" poems
The innocence of a newborn child
Is as pure as an angel
God's grace engulfing his body
Our love surrounding this child
Always with us
Their memories shine.
**In Loving Memory
of
Zachary Tompkins
1998-2010**
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 26, 2010 at 8:26 PM UTC
Sitting here in Tompkins, it all comes rushing back
The empty stares and bloodshot eyes,
Shooting dope and smoking crack.
Tiger is on the corner shouting "it's the first day of spring!"
Everything is gone to me, all my belongings in the pawn shop, sold.
It doesn't matter what season it is, my heart is always cold.
They kick me out of the basement and now I have no place to sleep.
So I rob a man, cop a few backs.
Get high in a public bathroom and weep.
My eyes are brimming with tears as I walk down down the street.
They're silently screaming help me to every person I meet.
But I cannot let the world see me cry, they cannot know my tears. The world is a big bad place and it cannot know my fears.
I'm waking up next to the East River, I'm only 19 years old.
How did I get this way, what happened? I was always a good girl and did as I was told.
Mommy, where are you?
Mommy can I please come back?
My father has left me and you will too
I'm sorry.. I'm sorry. But this is what enfolds when your daughter does smack.
I'm in Denver now still miserable, I am so far away.
I swallow my pride and lie when they ask if I'm okay.
I'm staying in a crack house, my arm is infected, I'm scared.
"Help!" I tell them. "Please take me somewhere safe."
They roll their eyes and laugh, they say there's no such place.
I overdose, my heartbeat stops for two minutes. Then I snap back to life.
"God **** it!" I yell "why didn't I just ******* die?"
I try again and fail twice.
My time is running out, I can't take this **** anymore. But when it comes to that needle.. For her I'm a ******* *****
My arm though.. My ******* arm. It's getting worse. Five times is size, filled with **** it's so god **** sore.
I take a breath. It's early morning. I grab my things and run for the street. I'm sorry to my friends.. But my promises I can't keep.
A thousand more miles away now, my arm is still throbbing, lying in a hospital bed. Hooked up to a million machines, my doctor saying he's surprised I'm not dead.
This is what I think about, just so you're aware.
This is what I think about, alone in Tompkins Square.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
No Judge, No Jury, No sentencing time,
No hurried last kisses, No final goodbyes,
Ramos and Liu were killed because they wore blue
by a black hearted coward named Brantley.
The Tompkins House off Myrtle was the scene of attack.
Two officers down; both were shot from the back.
There is blood on the pavement; there is fear on the streets,
as the fires of Ferguson are fanned by the Elites.
Lincoln forewarned us before Booth killed him
That America only could fall from within.
No great foreign power could conquer these shores.
No, we would decline from within, he was sure.
Our house is divided and, as such, cannot stand
as long as we hyphenate each woman and man.
We are not helpless victims oppressed by”the Man”
We are either free people or hopelessly dammed.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 10:53 AM UTC