29 december 2011
PAPA
1. PAPA
My
father was a spiritual man;
well
worn spiritual shoes soled with Psalms and Revelations,
He
spoke with the voice of Leviticus.
The
Bible, his umbrella,
Protection
from Satan’s reign.
He
went, door to door,
Late
nights on London’s granite streets.
He
came home,
head
bashed and bleeding,
Jesus
in an ill-fitting suit;
Set
upon by wolves and romans who saw
Only
that his skin, khaki brown,
Was
different, desired to devour him.
“Go
back to Asia” words soldered to bats and fists.
All
he could reply, before one tooth let fly,
“Lord,
Lord, me Jamaican, man”
The blows became a flood.
27 april 2024
By KissesSatish Verma
26 april 2024
2608wiesiek
26 april 2024
The EntitySatish Verma
25 april 2024
2504wiesiek
25 april 2024
QuartzSatish Verma
24 april 2024
The End StartsSatish Verma
23 april 2024
Three poemsAdam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
Echoes TravelSatish Verma
21 april 2024
od wewnątrzsam53
21 april 2024
2104wiesiek