Formerly Badass Horrible Poetry

This isn't just a poetry blog. Let's be honest, a lot of what I post is poetry but there are more often than not also postings about short stories. I do try to keep this blog separate from my others and post strictly creative work here. Some of it will be better than others, and much of it is in first or second draft stage when posted. These are raw works, and there will be spelling and grammar troubles at times because I use this blog to gauge what works and what doesn't. I use it as a place to get feedback. That's the reason it is "horrible". Because it's not finished-- And why should it be? We all want feedback but most of us are too afraid to put ourselves out there.

Welcome to my word.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

The Old Family Wallpaper - A Pantoum


The Old Family Wallpaper

And then daddy died
On a sunny day in a car-wreck,
Leaving his flaws to his first born son
Confusing them as his own.

On a sunny day in a car-wreck
A boy struggled on, feeling every ounce of blood—
Confusing it as his own
Not yet seeing what lay just behind.

A boy struggled on, feeling every ounce of blood
In his veins, as he paints over the old family wallpaper,
Not yet seeing what lay just behind
Will determine his relevant near-future.

In his veins, as he paints over the old family wallpaper
Contemplating the shotgun wife that
Will determine his relevant near-future,
The alcohol level spikes. Just one more sip, he says.

Contemplating the shotgun wife that
Wasn’t all what he’d hoped,
The alcohol level spikes. Just one more sip, he says,
Sitting at the old oak bar in-between his shifts.

Wasn’t all what he’d hoped—
Shouldn’t it be better than just
Sitting at the old oak bar in-between his shifts?
His last of ten whisky shots kissing his breath… his life—

Shouldn’t it be better than just
Driving down a blue ribbon road at ninety,
His last of ten whisky shots kissing his breath… his life
Turning over and over, rushing his forgotten son home?

Driving down a blue ribbon road at ninety,
He reached for the clutch as a truck hit, his car
Turning over and over. Rushing his forgotten son home,
He protected his boy best he could.

He reached for the child as the past hit his now,
And then daddy died.
He protected his boy best he could,
Leaving his flaws to his firstborn son
To redeem. 

© 2012-2014 Lex Vex

No comments:

Post a Comment

The Daily Puppy