Monday, November 10, 2014

Curly Haired Boy

I caught a curly haired boy in a dream and called him mine.
Taught him history and tear gas;
dressed him down in prison stripes.
Churched him never look the devil
straight in the black and white.
Now, he strides

soft and sober as a deacon,
but I

still don't sleep at night.

For Open Link Monday at Real Toads

16 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

I don't sleep much either.

Though it may not have been your intention, I read this as a subtle tribute to the curly-haired boys lost to so many events in history.. his memory remains steadfast, but we must live with the constant knowledge that he will not be the last to fall.

R.K. Garon said...

Whew! Interesting and good!
ZQ

Sylvia K said...

You never fail to amaze me!! Wonderful, as always!!

Fireblossom said...

"Churched him". Love that.

Gail said...

My words are not good enough to explain how I feel when I read your poetry. Another Purple Ribbon Grand Champion.

Justin Lamb said...

Great flow and images in this poem.

Laura said...

I second Kerry's comment.

Laura said...

I second Kerry's comment.

Björn Rudberg said...

My thoughts go to recent event in Henderson...

Susan said...

My thoughts went to the history of white supremacy, based on fear and greed. Brilliant.

Susan said...

My thoughts went to the history of white supremacy, based on fear and greed. Brilliant.

Lorraine Renaud said...

in you words you show the horror of war...it's chilling and hurtful bravo Mama Zen, lest they forget

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Excellent, almost confessional. Are you the unreliable narrator?

my heart's love songs said...

this is amazing, MZ!

Magaly Guerrero said...

For some reason, I just don't trust this boy... So weird.

grapeling said...

I don't sleep much, either, MZ ~