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rain on a tin roof
2002-07-09 ~ 5:10 a.m.
i had to go hunting for swatting flies. i have hundreds of sheets of scrawled on notebook paper. i keep everything, packrat. i found these poems....scribbled in high school. notes on them from Pixie, and Hester and Ashley. Things like..."you are demented or you could do better" i wonder if i could do better... but regardless, the feelings are still the same. I was 14 here...so like 1990? How Many Times How many times must i feel the pain? Me heart no longer loves or trusts, All because of you. You stole away the things most dear, Left me riddled with anger and fear. You took the best of me, And left me there. Broke my heart, my sould and my pride, To what selfish gain? And all because of you, How many times must i feel the pain? that is kind of sucky in a literary sense, but there is feeling there. and this one...this little poem that just slipped itself onto paper in finished form. Rain on a Tin Roof Trippety trap, Trippety trap, God help me When the rain comes down. Can't escape a sound That echoes forever, And God won't help When the rain comes down. Bare-footed girl Dancing round and round, Ran for shelter When the rain came down. Little wood playhouse, Shiny tin roof. Trippety trap, Trippety trap. Close your eyes Dear thing, Go to sleep Dear thing. Forget what you lost Dancing round and round. With the big bad wolf When the rain came down. That sound, God let me forget What happened When the rain came down. Trippety, Trippety, And you're trapped I have it dated as June 21, 1998 in my book, but that can't be right. It was earlier than that, in college. More like 95 or 96 i guess. Maybe Kel would know. She disliked that poem as much as i did. but i only disliked it because they made a big fuss over it, and it was just an assignment. of course, that was also the writing class with the teacher who smoked way too much crack. so go figure. dsrawn to the rhythym is playing..."and we were mesmerized by the lull of the knife..." did i just hear that correctly? interesting. i am going through my stuff...looking at it like a stranger. watching myself pick up and read papers and scroll through documents. it is a removed search, i am distant...i don't even know what i am looking for. but i will know when i find it. i wonder if i begged for sleep if sleep would hear me. hmmm
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