By Everett Webb
Poetwebb@aol.com
Every day… I mean every blinking day,
Soon as I open my eyes, I got to think about this gorilla,
Some times when I’m asleep, I’m dreaming about this gorilla,
Conscious, or unconscious, even in my subconscious,
Every day… It’s me against this gorilla,
Feels like this gorilla got about a dozen hands,
Cause there’s one in each pocket, robbing me,
One over my mouth, so I can’t shout
One over each eye, so I can’t be a witness,
One over each ear, so I can’t hear the other victims,
And two balled into gigantic fists, trying to beat the life out of me,
This gorilla don’t play, he keep his sleeves rolled up,
He don’t sleep, don’t eat, and he don’t share the scores he keeps,
He’s a bounty hunting, bill collecting, tax assessing, funeral directing machine,
He’s selling all kinds of dope, and different types of hope,
And he even has specials on hand crafted ropes,
This gorilla is well connected, and he’s larger than life,
And to make things worse, he’s neither dark nor light,
This gorilla has no regret or remorse,
He’s not doing this for fun, he just do it by force,
I can’t shake this gorilla,
It's not that he’s not following me, he’s already there,
He’s seen all the moves about a billion times square,
Every plan, every dream, every idea, in every ingenious way,
This gorilla has me in check each and every day,
For every breath I take, he want to be paid,
When the heat become unbearable, he denying me shade,
This gorilla has no heart,
No conscious, no feelings, and no sympathetic parts,
I can’t hide from this gorilla, and he won’t let me be,
I asked him why he doing this,
He just smiled and said, "Cause I’m reality."
*Web is a Shreveport poet and writer. "Gorilla Blues"
appeared on this site (c) June 2003.
By Michael G. Owens
Ain't no green grass growing on either side of me
For all I have left are these clothes I wear and what's inside of me
A spirit that stands strong despite all the chaos that surrounds
A heart where all my faith, hope, dreams, and deepest desires can be found
Also lying beneath the surface is a fire for life that's never banked
A prayer as well that I recite to the Lord each night to show thanks
A soul as deep as the ocean blue and just as filled with wonder
A will that is a tough as nail that keeps me above water, never under
That is the make up of me, from head to toe
So don't believe one minute that I'll can be played, better act like you know
Michal G. Owens is a poet and writer living in District Hieghts, Md. His work, "Act Like You Know," appeared on this site (c) March 2004
poets@michellejpinkard.com