Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Believer

Today is the day
I've planned since the moment 
I turned fourteen
Unclear and ignorant 
A love, premature 
Nobody sings in this old building
I did, but shouts covered my voice 
Like sirens in hurricane season
I've decided 
A boy, now a man, no one gave the time of day to
A few would wave, and I always said "Hi."


A smirk 
A mumble 
A knife in the back


Plastic bag on my forearm 
Full of liquor 
I met with a bum from around the corner
He had no teeth and a heart of gold 
He had nothing to give yet gave more 
Than all the Donald Trumps of the world 
A shadow man bathed in light 
He had no roof, not even a cardboard box 


He is, on the outside, my inner self
Like a copycat with no skin 
Hailstorms from my eyes came pouring down 
They penetrated my ribcage 
So the bruises never fade away 




As I said my goodbyes,
The Bum wanted to give me a penny 
I told him I had no use for it
He said "I know it seems useless, but keep it...
I found it face up; I'm passing you the good luck"
Though luck is for the believers and the foolish 
I knew all too well the meaning of useless 
As if I'm a wordsmith rehearsing 
With his dictionary
I've been through hell and back 
Ain't no penny ever save me
Ain't no God at my doorstep
So what is luck?
I thought about it as the 
Hot rooftop burned my feet
But I'm not a believer, so
Face down, this penny will land.



©2011 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.

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33 comments:

Unknown said...

my dear friend - with words and song you will go far penny or not
I believe luck will discover you!!!
and the moon will shine too

Brian Miller said...

whew...dont jump just yes brother....intense piece...as long as there is song in the heart there is reason to keep spinning poet.

Anonymous said...

this was amazing, bringing me right to the edge with you. Hold on to that penny, luck has a way of finding us just when we need it most

Scarlet said...

Soulful write.. but towards the end, hopeful for that piece of luck in a penny.

Hope all is well ~

ayala said...

sometimes those that don't have are more generous than all the Donald Trumps of the world...this is amazing !

Anonymous said...

He is, on the outside, my inner self Like a copycat with no skin Hailstorms from my eyes came pouring down They penetrated my ribcage So the bruises never fade away

This is amazing! It consumed me! You are a master indeed! Bravo!

Maude Lynn said...

This is outstanding!

steveroni said...

Comparison of his outside to my inner self...I felt that and became warm with cool goosebumps.

Thanks!

Unknown said...

powerful piece, really clever metaphor you wove in. ~ Rose

Uneven Stephen said...

Amazing. Such a powerful ride in these lines. Love the Donald Trump bit.

mrs mediocrity said...

oh, so heartbreakingly beautiful... and part of me, no, all of me, want that penny to land face up.

Jannie Funster said...

No teeth and a heart of gold -- truly beautiful.

I can feel this came from soul level and all I can say Anthony is "I want more of your poetry!!"

Claudia said...

He had no teeth and a heart of gold
He had nothing to give yet gave more...often saw this and i think it's fascinating...another excellent write anthony - tight, raw and honest

Anonymous said...

What a deep piece you've given to us today.
"He had no teeth and a heart of gold
He had nothing to give yet gave more"
Are my favorite lines. If more people could be like that the world would certainly be different.

Anonymous said...

So much here; I get a little more each read. It almost feels like the opening scene to a really good movie.

Joanne Young Elliott said...

What is luck? Perhaps there is none and all we have are our choices. Dark and intriguing write.

Unknown said...

"He is, on the outside, my inner self
Like a copycat with no skin "

this is how i live each day, with the bruises and the pain, and no penny, little hope...

yet, i want to catch the penny before you let go, put it in your hand and hold it there for a while... till you realize - your words are GOLD!

~
deb

The Zen of Gavin said...

Now that your standing on the edge... yell out loud your poem for all to hear, then start singing it in your best singing voice, when your done throw it over for all to read. Great poem, I'm looking down with you.

"He had nothing to give yet gave more" (zenish indeed)

Can't wait for many more of your poems.

Anonymous said...

Anthony - your raw and seemingly untamed lines really cut thru the shit - i love what you do and i love the way you do it - blunt with craft - now thats whats happening!

Arron Shilling

Unknown said...

Anthony, excellent write. Love it all, everything from the tone to the language to the flow. Wonderfully done, perfect way to kick OLN off

Unknown said...

I have always believed in the magic of the penny... clearly you do too. Bold!

Dulçe ♥ said...

wild write. great meaningful ending.

Ann LeFlore said...

This is a great poem. Very wild and a great ending

Anonymous said...

He is, on the outside, my inner self
Like a copycat with no skin
Hailstorms from my eyes came pouring down
They penetrated my ribcage
So the bruises never fade away

You've made your own luck with the skill and beauty of your art, write on.

Anonymous said...

This was great. :) I really liked this line: "He had no teeth and a heart of gold"

Joseph Hesch said...

So much to love here, Anthony. But I was transfixed by the story with The Bum (the capitalization is important, isn't it?) and the penny. I think you're beginning to know you're own strength and you're going to keep bending those pennies, the hard things, to your will, giving us a look at a world we need to see.

Anonymous said...

Each time i read a post of yours I inspired to look deeper in myself. This is another amazing write Anthony!The penny landed in the proper hands luck is when talent meets opportunity and my friend you have the talent!

Patricia said...

I met with a bum from around the corner
He had no teeth and a heart of gold
He had nothing to give yet gave more
Than all the Donald Trumps of the world
A shadow man bathed in light
He had no roof, not even a cardboard box

In my eyes ... you just described God...

What a gift you have Anthony.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Wonderful story and wonderful pictures you create.

signed...bkm said...

He is, on the outside, my inner self
Like a copycat with no skin
Hailstorms from my eyes came pouring down
They penetrated my ribcage
So the bruises never fade away

Anthony this stanza is Awesome!!! - the story so real - and the contrasts from penny face-up to face down...you embrace all emotion felt in faith and lack of it...bkm

Anonymous said...

Intense!

Collaborate, Create, Publish

Glynn said...

There's a cry wrapped up inthis poem, a heartrending, plaintive cry. Well done, Anthony. Beauty can come from pain.

Evelyn said...

Im always intrigued by your writing...
this is no exception.
"He is, on the outside, my inner self
Like a copycat with no skin"
wow. impressive.