Act 2- Cassandra, Part 3
I didn’t
bring any blood, sweat, or tears with me.
I just didn’t think it so important, but I can hear the silent fire and
the burning fury. I’m way past half
pass, and there’s only a bit left to be said.
Not that it hasn’t been already, but I thought I should put it in my own
words. I’m still standing in the same
spot. I like it here; it’s hot. And I’m blinded just enough to get through
this. After this, the blue turns to
green, and the light cuts to black.
New Laces
Ten months of the same
predicament,
And eyes start to
roll.
Thirty years with the
same memory,
And the tongue’s
gotten old.
Wee hours,
High day,
After noon,
Doesn’t matter…
It’s the same terror.
I washed the sneaker,
I ripped the socks,
I clipped the
toenails,
But I tossed the
laces.
A breeze against the
neck,
A whistle at the top
of a tree,
And a light shining in
the distance…
The perfect calamity.
I’m at five miles per
hour,
He’s at five point
two,
I sway,
His way.
He’s spooky in the
shadow,
I’m terrified in the
light.
The jersey knit
absorbs the fury,
The cotton cools the
fire,
All the blue is gone,
And the green is left
talking with each other.
Then the wind picks me
up,
While the acorn holds
him down.
The caution tape is
up,
The light flashes,
I’m on my way to work.
The talk is behind me,
The path is to find
me,
She knows what she
heard,
But it’s empty where
she sees.
I appreciate her
gesture,
But there’s nothing to
see,
And she’s beginning to
look like a trouble maker,
Wake her.
Wake her quick,
Before the next day
break,
Sunset,
Midnight.
Wake her,
In the middle of the
night,
Wake her,
And harness her
flight.
In the middle of the
fight,
Wake her,
Empower her,
Uplift her…
Before all the fuss is
gone,
And the onlookers go
for coffee.
Wake her,
Take her,
Shake her…
Out of her dreams.
The Trap
I never saw a trap I
couldn’t manage.
And there’s never been
a trap to manage me.
It’s in the set up.
All the details.
Now I reject the
details,
I’ve become the
curtail.
A bunch of questions,
Won’t come to the
truth,
The truth,
You see,
Is in the question.
And I question my
current position.
I question its power,
I question its
resolve,
And I question its
truth.
It’s the only way back
to myself..
Power,
Resolve,
And Truth.
Resolve it fits me
like a glove.
Power I take like a
shower.
And Truth,
It’s resolute.
This is what keeps it
all afloat,
Even when the water’s
shallow.
And when truth is in
question,
And the Trap has the
stage,
I take my seat.
I take my seat while
the audience waits,
I take my seat while
they speculate,
I take my seat right next
to Veronica..
It’s no bows,
It’s no grand stand,
It’s no lengthy hands,
I just take my seat.
I just take my seat.
http://thedecksandtheroad.blogspot.com/2018/05/erased-dedication-and-introduction.html
All Poems Written by NaTisha Renee Williams
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Written permission must be secured from the author Natisha R. Williams and/or Grace Call Communications, LLC to use or reproduce any part of this Literary Work, except for brief quotation in critical reviews or articles.
The VCR Diaries Copyright 2018 by Natisha Renee Williams, All Right Reserved.
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