"Pennies for Yesterday"

In muffled boxes behind the shadows
I sattle broken time lines in the closet;
Retracing yesterday's grand paintings
in free hand, these finger paintings draped
in sand and glass collapsed in my laugh.
Sitting in my mother's day cards wondering
why my heart stopped and eyes watering,
following the scars above the door stop
where Mom marked our hights in light
blue sharpie, while we caught the sunlight
and asked if we could leave already.

This home holds so many ghosts
in the heart of it's broke and clammy throat.
Coughing old pasts from fractured black lungs,
the laughter splashes against sandy notes
of that night dad got drunk and slapped her.
A screams life echoes in the bleeding
slideshow, scenes of beatings, nights let go
float in the present meeting my pseudo
hope, for a chance to lend a helping hand.

Giggles from the rafters dance backwards
and land on these ash wood hands,
I lit my cigarette and took a deep breath...
Innocence kicked up his feet to rest.

Pushing empty carts;
heart in a bottles of sorrow and lies,
I picked up a penny and started to cry.
Searching for souls in open glass bottles
gripping the sun for one box full of past,
I sat my wealth on a loose table booth...
Threw my penny into the wishing well
and held my breath for a second youth to sell.


http://rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=300438
http://rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=300251

Everyone's posting their poems in the topical section. Eh, well, alright, either way, I really enjoyed this piece. Your metaphors/imagery and writer's voice are what shined tremendously in each stanza. Rhyming wasn't necessarily needed because you had a well-brought out message combined with the fluidity of your emotion as opposed to internals/flow, etc.

This home holds so many ghosts
in the heart of it's broke and clammy throat.
Coughing old pasts from fractured black lungs,
the laughter splashes against sandy notes
of that night dad got drunk and slapped her.
A screams life echoes in the bleeding
slideshow, scenes of beatings, nights let go
float in the present meeting my pseudo
hope, for a chance to lend a helping hand.

^Very elegant and descriptive. Kind of like a spoken word piece. I liked.

Thanks alot, and I'm assuuuuuuuuuming you would like some feedback on that piece I just noticed on the front page... So I'll get at that for you in a moment.

Pretty nice poem. The story behind it all was told in short words but you could still understand what yo were trying to say. You used alot of imagery and metaphors to tell the story which I liked. It was a good read throughout the whole thing that kept me hooked. First time I read something from you. Nice. Keep at it.

Thanks alot for the feedback man.

I'll get at this tomorrow morning man - my brain juice is running low at the moment.

Lol, no problem man

This was good. May have been the best I've seen from you, although I haven't seen much. I have a habit of reading the first 8 or so lines, then not reading the rest of the piece, if they didn't draw me in. This drew me in on the first stanza, and kept it up, throughout the piece. Nice shit.