As they drove home on a deserted road
the demon in their veins still fluidly flowed,
with mounted tension causing friction,
they began as usual their drunken dissension.
the demon in their veins still fluidly flowed,
with mounted tension causing friction,
they began as usual their drunken dissension.
Clenched fists on faces connected
brakes slammed, a door flung wide
and onto the road he angrily pushed her
While in the back seat, a little girl cried.
brakes slammed, a door flung wide
and onto the road he angrily pushed her
While in the back seat, a little girl cried.
The woman he left sobbing on the road
with an arm broken from a twist of his hold.
Then he reversed and ran over her feet.
Frightened, the little girl ran, tried to escape!
with an arm broken from a twist of his hold.
Then he reversed and ran over her feet.
Frightened, the little girl ran, tried to escape!
He pursued the little girl until he caught her
Grabbing her hands and feet, he hoisted her
back bent and belly towards the darkened sky
as if in pagan proffer while his wife cried
‘Please, spare the life of our daughter’!
Grabbing her hands and feet, he hoisted her
back bent and belly towards the darkened sky
as if in pagan proffer while his wife cried
‘Please, spare the life of our daughter’!
They promised again and again not to drink.
Over twenty five years passed in drunken abuse,
then with age and sickness, they were forced
to keep their long ago promise’s forgotten.
To spite the violence, the little girl still felt love
and when they died, different tears she sobbed.
Over twenty five years passed in drunken abuse,
then with age and sickness, they were forced
to keep their long ago promise’s forgotten.
To spite the violence, the little girl still felt love
and when they died, different tears she sobbed.
The memories fragmented spanned over time
uninvited visions, of a little girl, lost and terrified,
creep into a grown woman’s night time mind.
Again last night, the little girl, inside me cried!
uninvited visions, of a little girl, lost and terrified,
creep into a grown woman’s night time mind.
Again last night, the little girl, inside me cried!
TeAnne © Oct. 19. 1998
TELL ME WHY DADDY
Its not fair, that the innocent endure the shame
after all, we were stolen, we were not to blame.
You and me, we share a secret
so painful, of lost innocence, regret.
The shame, it should be theirs, not ours
it wasn't theirs to pick.
after all, we were stolen, we were not to blame.
You and me, we share a secret
so painful, of lost innocence, regret.
The shame, it should be theirs, not ours
it wasn't theirs to pick.
Our secrets shared are familiar, our memories are the same,
our lives, to each are similar, we'll never name their name.
When like a lightening bolt, we awaken from nightmares sleep
our scars cut open again, for our precious flower, we can only weep
our lives, to each are similar, we'll never name their name.
When like a lightening bolt, we awaken from nightmares sleep
our scars cut open again, for our precious flower, we can only weep
Though our lives by years, are far apart, we could be Siamese twins,
we share a broken heart and recollect, a fathers’ mortal sins.
We sense each other's pain and let our tears flow free
but our tears we cry inside, for outsiders, inside us, never see.
we share a broken heart and recollect, a fathers’ mortal sins.
We sense each other's pain and let our tears flow free
but our tears we cry inside, for outsiders, inside us, never see.
Were they sorry for what they did, I think not
We were children, their possessions they begot.
The law didn't punish their crime and we couldn't trust them
they were supposed to guide us through life, not our lives to hell, condemn
We were children, their possessions they begot.
The law didn't punish their crime and we couldn't trust them
they were supposed to guide us through life, not our lives to hell, condemn
I pray you're not hurting dear friend, as we spoke again this day
it all came rushing back at me, I had to write it down, this way
and purge the memories that inside us, just wont go away
I hope and pray that one day,
our God will know, where the blame to lay!
it all came rushing back at me, I had to write it down, this way
and purge the memories that inside us, just wont go away
I hope and pray that one day,
our God will know, where the blame to lay!
This poem is for a very special friend!
TeAnne © Sept 25.1998
Falling down DRUNK!
Loud mouth at nights end
With fists bruised and bloody
Swears black and blue
That yellow is red.
With fists bruised and bloody
Swears black and blue
That yellow is red.
Falling down drunk
He broke all the rules
Big tough he man
He thought he was cool.
He broke all the rules
Big tough he man
He thought he was cool.
TeAnne © May 7.1999
FOR THE LOVE OF OUR CHILDREN
Guns in the hands of babes, as young as six
gone are the values of reading, writing, and arithmetic
Drugs in the veins of the young
“Hey kid, sell your body,” this song is sung.
Again, the head-lines say!
in the ‘Land of the Free’, no child at play .
The murder of kids by kids
who trade a gun, for the highest bids.
In the ‘Lucky Country’ it’s happening too
Our nation of copy-cats, once true blue.
The movies from Hollywood say it’s right
to shoot your enemy, your mother, your wife!
The ‘do-gooders’ say their doing their job
Your kid is out there, learning to rob.
The atrocities allowed by government and God
When will you learn? Stop sparing the rod.
Flaunting their sex, for all to lust
and shoot your brother, if they must
and pass their needles, for all to share
Where are their parents, do they care?
Show your kid who is boss
take a stand and cut your loss
Take the guns from their hands,
Help them grow, to be a man.
The almighty dollar is God, when it’s all said and done
the kids are shooting, life's new fun!
Read the signs, scan life’s map
Load a chamber, pop a cap!
TeAnne © June 16. 1998
Re- written 14 Sept. 1998
* I am not holding anyone to blame*
Futuristic Urbanism
Pounded pavements
midnight screams
muted bullets
hospital basements.
midnight screams
muted bullets
hospital basements.
Coma memories
forgotten lives
slain in alleys
hell is night.
forgotten lives
slain in alleys
hell is night.
Children laughed
songbirds sung
streets in war
schools' un-done.
songbirds sung
streets in war
schools' un-done.
Pounded pavements by the boys in blue
midnight screams, murder, not a clue.
Muted bullets killed her silent
hospital basements house the victim of violence.
Coma memories of the drugged
forgotten lives that once was.
Slain in Alleys a drug crazed mind
hell is night for the blind.
Children laughed in the playground free
songbirds sung a tweety birds plea
Streets of war killed us all
schools un-done, nuclear fall.
midnight screams, murder, not a clue.
Muted bullets killed her silent
hospital basements house the victim of violence.
Coma memories of the drugged
forgotten lives that once was.
Slain in Alleys a drug crazed mind
hell is night for the blind.
Children laughed in the playground free
songbirds sung a tweety birds plea
Streets of war killed us all
schools un-done, nuclear fall.
June 15 1998 and 14 Sept 1998 ©
GOD FORGIVE ME !
It’s not up to me to discredit you
or protect you , it’s not my aim
To keep your name from the world
because I think you suffered just the same
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
or protect you , it’s not my aim
To keep your name from the world
because I think you suffered just the same
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
I wish I could tell it all
of thirty-two years ago
but to punish you now for all this wrong
seems futile now you’re dead
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
of thirty-two years ago
but to punish you now for all this wrong
seems futile now you’re dead
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
I was awake at the time of your deceit,
and I’ve no desire to defile you, as you did to me
nothing will release this heart of ache.
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
and I’ve no desire to defile you, as you did to me
nothing will release this heart of ache.
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
You never apologised or told me why you hurt me
when you stole my innocence that day
I was barley in my teens
youth and purity was mine to keep
but you took it all away
and no-one would believe my story.
and Mother said
“Its not right to speak ill of the dead.”
when you stole my innocence that day
I was barley in my teens
youth and purity was mine to keep
but you took it all away
and no-one would believe my story.
and Mother said
“Its not right to speak ill of the dead.”
I, but punished for your sins
for your pleasure of me
and for my own protection
they threw away the key
While you walked free and had life easy.
I the victim, was treated as a whore
But it is not I who judges you
only God can do that you now
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
for your pleasure of me
and for my own protection
they threw away the key
While you walked free and had life easy.
I the victim, was treated as a whore
But it is not I who judges you
only God can do that you now
and Mother said
“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead.”
Now I must learn to forgive and forget
and in the closet, put the skeletons back
I’ll try to cope and live inside my walls
but these scars are permanent
and I always will remember
and Mother said
“It’s still not right to speak ill of the dead.
and in the closet, put the skeletons back
I’ll try to cope and live inside my walls
but these scars are permanent
and I always will remember
and Mother said
“It’s still not right to speak ill of the dead.
© TeAnne April 16. 1998
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