deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Spoils of Death
At Five I was unaware the toll his death had dealt on me
How could I know I would be shown the steps to set me free?
A simple truth the innocence of youth was too blind to see
Yet something so much older cracked the seed within my Chi
So when I saw the mournful news on our black and white tv
How a bullet lynched a man where there was no poplar tree
Then began a war of prideful spoils raging back and forth inside me
That the tint under the skin could control my soul eternally
Unless I learned to dream his dream, to be free internally
How did someone I never met mold the man that I would be?
But deep inside I received the spoils that his death bestowed on me
How could I know I would be shown the steps to set me free?
A simple truth the innocence of youth was too blind to see
Yet something so much older cracked the seed within my Chi
So when I saw the mournful news on our black and white tv
How a bullet lynched a man where there was no poplar tree
Then began a war of prideful spoils raging back and forth inside me
That the tint under the skin could control my soul eternally
Unless I learned to dream his dream, to be free internally
How did someone I never met mold the man that I would be?
But deep inside I received the spoils that his death bestowed on me
Published 7th Sep 2015
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likes 5
reading list entries 1
comments 13
reads 682
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7th Sep 2015 4:01am
7th Sep 2015 7:12am
A beautiful tribute to a man who's death changed everything. He dared to dream, and touched us all. Loved this.
Michael
Michael
7th Sep 2015 7:34am
Thank you Michael! When I saw the comp I had to write a poem. It was tough choosing who to write about, but since I had already written eulogies for my parents, I decided it was between MLK and John Lennon. If Bob Dylan were dead, he would have made the choice even harder...
JJ
JJ
7th Sep 2015 7:30am
Each death when witnessed touch us in so many different ways. My mother was dignified to the end, she managed to bun her hair before leaving for the hospital. She passed away next day at dusk...her lungs filled up. She touched our lives as children, a petite woman with strength of character that befits a matriarch. I regress though...good read poetryman as always.
7th Sep 2015 7:44am
Parents are always the biggest influence in our lives, though some are not a positive influence at all. I was just responding to Michael that I did not write about my mother and father because I have written eulogies for them both, that I read at their funerals, so I pretty much covered them. I also considered Jesus, but that might have come across the wrong way. I think most of my spiritual poems cover him pretty well, so MLK it is...
Thanks for commenting Grace!
JJ
Thanks for commenting Grace!
JJ
7th Sep 2015 8:29am
I think I can pretty much write a book of poem for my mother...and my father, who had a heavy fist and heavier feet. The wall was then my best friend, broke my fall all the time haha...but yes. Jesus is a good subject,, never fails to get response one way of the other. I always read you Poetryman...even if I am silent.:)
7th Sep 2015 8:38am
Sometimes I look at the reads counter and wonder if you are the only one who does, lol... i suppose the wall has better cushioning than the floor, being up there so much higher.
7th Sep 2015 8:58am
7th Sep 2015 11:19am
7th Sep 2015 9:32am
7th Sep 2015 11:20am
8th Sep 2015 1:16am
This made me think of someone I loved that is no longer here, thanks JJ. Havent thought of that person in a while, made me smile....<3
8th Sep 2015 2:29am
