For your reading *pleasure* I have chosen four of the more self-representative of my poems. All of them tie into my personal existance as "windows," if you will, into the person I once was, and who led me to where / who I am now...
This first poem, was written in early 1983 right after Angela and I broke up. I had barely been holding on, and while I still loved her I saw little hope for the future, and nothing could change my mind. My friend, and ex-Abdulla and the Gang band member (the band I was in in high school) Tommy (Tom P. '98) turned this into a song, and got as far as recording it as a demo with his band "Acid Rain" in 1987 or 1988.
"What Are You Gonna Do Tomorrow"
Riding high, you know you're gonna fall
feeling fine, but you can't break down
the wall
getting high is the best feeling of all
But what are you gonna do tomorrow?
You came into this world, nothing to your
name
you're eighteen years old now and your life
is still the same,
she walked out of your life, and now it's
filled with pain
But what are you gonna do tomorrow?
You might say to yourself, "Oh it's alright
for me,"
and another thing you'll say, is you think
you're really free
but the wall you've built yourself looks
indestructable to me
So what are you gonna do tomorrow?
You say the gun that's in your hand is
just a joke to fool your friends
but when it's pointed to your head you're
coming to an end
and when the bullet passes through, there's
no time to pretend,
'cause that's what you're gonna do tomorrow.
This second one, "The Joker" was written during an intense period in my life where I was in a state of flux due to a girl that I was seeing at the time, named Sofia. While she had a boyfriend, and lived with him, she still spent time with me and our relationship had become pretty heavy. She was the first girl that inspired me to write after my breakup with Angela, and I believe I truly did love her. Nevertheless she would never verbalize her love for me, despite all indications to that effect.
"The Joker"
They call me the Joker
it's all plain to see
the things taken serious
are humor to me.
The pain and the sorrow
all humans must feel
to me are unknown
only jokes are for real.
And love is a joke
for me to make fun
and breaking of hearts
to me are a pun
And death's just a joke
till the reaper I see
fr the Joker at last
will finally be free.
O.K. By age twenty-one I finally realized that I was finally "over" my depression over Angela and my breakup, specifically on Christmas Eve 1985. It was my birthday and I was spending at my friend Herb's home with him and his parents. I was his "adopted" brother in all but the eyes of the law, and this had become a tradition for us since the Christmas of 1982.
Jump ahead two years and I am finally ready, after several unsuccessful attempted meetings with Angela, to tell her of my "being over her," when I finally found the courage to go see her. When I got to the residence where she lived, much to my surprise, and horror, I was told that she had moved out about six months earlier. While I always thought I'd have the chance at a sense of closure with her, with my feelings layed out for her one last time, here I discovered that it would not be so. The following poem was written that night, half a block away from her former home, on a bench that we had sat on, together, five years earlier.
"The Echoes of the Past"
I met you, we fell in love
like it always happens
in the movies
I was a knight in search of hope
a love to win
to conquer the world
and all of its pain
you brought along some of your own
and I couldn't help save
the life that you lost
so you left me and
I was alone
I wandered through empty rooms
cold and devoid of love
all of the doors
suddenly were locked
I was lost
I wept and I screamed
inside my four walls
the asylum that had been
my mind
I whispered your name
a million lost times
you never did answer my call
But now things are alright
but nothing's the same
I'll just never see
or hear you again
Will the echoes of the past
haunt my nights?
Alright, last but not the most dimunitive, is a poem that I wrote in late 1989, or 1990. I was walking through the neighborhood of 205th Street and Decatur Avenue, the area in which I had hung out the entire summer of 1982 when I was struck by how much my life had changed since then. What struck me the most was for all of the hope, and the perfection of that time period, how far from that world I had come, and not in an alltogether positive sense. While I had gotten over Angela, and had several girlfriends after her, I still saw my seventeenth year of existance as being the closest to perfection as I'd ever reach as a person. This poem came out of those feelings.
"Seventeen"
When everything changes
and no one knows your name
no more
and the places you hung out
still look the same...
Hanging on the roof
drinking Michelob
drinking till you puke or have a fight
Fall in love the first time
although it hurts like
HELL
to be separated for a day
Gazing at the stars
looking for a dream
there's a feeling in
the night
and you are really free
Party till the dawn
at some chick's Sweet 16
(but something always brings
you back to reality)
You're seventeen
and things are fine
but soon you'll get older
and the sun no longer shines
like diamonds in the sky
its more like a harsh
and glaring light
that reveals what we
once were
and what we'll never be
but for now you're seventeen
and you're free...
Well that's about it for this installment :-). Thank you for your taking time to read these poems, and if you have the time let me know what you think of them.
© 1997 jeffthejoker98@yahoo.com