Monday, July 15, 2013

The Dozens


Nothing is more strange than a stranger, 
Except those who think me higher.
Like a pedestal of vanity 
Made of drift wood and mud: 
The accretion is the pivot of anonymity; 
thus, your God remains faceless. 
Think me higher, regardless of the ball and chain 
Around my neck as I'm playing the dozens 
With niggas of the lowest quality: 
Missing an arm, a leg, or breasts 
Like a 1st. generation leper 
With a price tag on the leash of a stranger.



©2013 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.

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19 comments:

Brian Miller said...

grit. i dont want to be on any pedestal...too easy to fall from...and also to feel entitled....i find too the life among those considered low quality to be much greater than those that think they are something....

Claudia said...

i rather identify with the common people as well... those that are rich and famous have enormous struggles - and the higher the rank, the less they can decide and do and change really...

mrs mediocrity said...

This is so true and raw and I love the way you always bring that to the surface with your words. I feel like you see right through everything.

Unknown said...

To make the mistake of thinking oneself higher than others, is to not really know oneself at all. I really enjoyed reading this.

flaubert said...

Wow, this is a raw poem, Anthony. So much truth to it.

Pamela

Beachanny said...

Hey Anthony - it's been quite a ride from those first haiku tweets, hasn't it. Great to see you here today. I've been MIA for the last few months. Left the beach - back in the old house & neighborhood. Hope life is treating you well. Your poem, as always, goes straight for the undiscovered truth - in your own unique and distinctive style! Love it. Glad to see you still writing!!!

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a speech Caliaban would have made.>KB

Anonymous said...

Great poetry right there.

Anonymous said...

Fresh and refreshing...great rhythm, great imagery..a great read ~peace, Jason

kelvin s.m. said...

...how ironic to think how those who have less can easily give more than those who have plenty & almost drowning of vanity... what an up side down world we inhabit... powerful write... loved it... smiles...

Anonymous said...

Interesting read. Our values define us far better than outside perception!

Amber Glows of a Slow Burn said...

Loved this. Well said.

Anonymous said...

Very poignant poem - strong close. k.

emmett wheatfall said...

Heavy writing my friend. A great piece. Love your originality. Plus, you are not bound to not using the "N" word. Keep your suff real, keep it real.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Raw, wonderful words Anthony, raw and wonderful.
Anna :o]

Arron Shilling said...

a truly beautiful and measured ending. the imagery is just how I like it . . . a fork in the eye!

The accretion is the pivot of anonymity; thus, your God remains faceless.

yesir!!!

G-Man said...

Thanks for stopping by Anthony.
You have a lot to say Brother....

Unknown said...

Hey Anthony - I'm so proud of you and your accomplishments thus far.
I do believe the gift you have is to unleash feelings for others.
This poem like your other work is hard hitting. Keep pushing the envelope my friend / thanks so much for your visit always great to see where people are going with their work
Hugs!!!

Beth Winter said...

Anthony, There is a growl in your voice with this one. I don't like accolades, over-praise or pedestals. I'm in awe of your ability to say "let me be myself"

I missed this one earlier. I'm glad I saw it now. Hope you are well.