Tag Archives: dead

Mom


You were the one who first broke my heart.
It was because of you I learned to make pain an art.
I’m the light, but I live in the dark.
I’m the light, but I live in the dark.
I never knew I needed love until I ached,
Until I was shaped by every escape.
In kindergarten, I dropped many tears
On the pages of my homework and always
Handed it in without a world of care.
I never knew I needed to be loved until I saw
everyone else’s parents loved them back, in awe.
In awe, I was. In awe I was because I saw.
I carried around anger like my lifeline.
And I never held it against the divine.
And I never questioned if I was good enough.
I was, despite the hefty handcuffs.
I vowed to not be like you in so many ways.
I’ve set blaze to many things under your name.

And I still don’t have a heart the way I ought to.
And I sit facing entrances, never giving my back to a view.
And many of my feelings are dead and sometimes ill-advised.
And it doesn’t matter how I tread, I can’t disguise the chill in my eyes.
And the anger I kept has evaporated nearly now that you’re gone.
Permanence is never permanent, and somehow I found a way to live on.
Your body in the coffin was as real as when I imagined it at twelve.
That was the last time I cried and put my feelings on the bookshelf.
The numbness I contained up until that day released at your wake.
I didn’t understand with every preparation came a new defense,
It’s almost as if everything in life made sense, and yet not at all.

-Pennington

Happy 56th Birthday.  You’re infinite now.

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Chewing Gum


chewing gum 2.

You know what’s to come. 
You hear war drums.
You heard about the hunter in me.
You know I’m butter toffee.
You heard I bruise egos.
You know I’m blacker than Negroes. 
You heard I have a million sins.
You know I don’t fix things.

You can’t stop yourself.
You like the pains and welts.
You know the sum of what’s to come.
You love my Puerto Rican in your rum.
You like the ecstasy and high I bring.
You enjoy how I leave you on brink.
You like the bountiful sex I give.
You love me so much to forgive.

You know exactly what’s to come.
You can hear the bass and thrums.
I can’t bring you safety baby.
I’m high, low, manic, crazy.
I’m not stupid to guard your heart.
I can’t even blueprint my art.
I can’t be like you:  Lost in love.
I’m dead inside – a little too tough.

You know shamelessly what’s to come.
Interestingly enough you’re off the cuff.
I’m going to hurt you like the others.
I’ll haunt like the suffering of mothers.
I’m going to give you a world of hurt.
I wouldn’t be able to without teamwork.
You heard of ruin and what’s to come.
Now you’re my next chewing gum.

-Pennington

I Have A Reason



I’m not phony and I don’t pretend to be.

What you see on the surface of this cheeky apple smile, soulful deep brown eyes and Latin curvaceous body isn’t what you’re most likely to get!  I look soft on the outside, but I’m a raging ball of cynic and hate. I smile to hide all the anger, all the hurt, all the pain that takes a bit of my existence to the dark side.  And, you do know how people get soulful eyes, right? All the hurt, all the anger, all the pain, all the shit in the existence you maintain and keep on the planet called Earth.

I’m not one of those people who stands by feeling bad for your glorious self-pity moments. I’m not the person who consoles you knowing damn well YOU were the one who caused all of the problems in your Life.  I’m not the one who’s going to side with you when things get tough for YOU because I know you sit down at night, lay in your bed with dreams and fantasies that will calm your soul and allow you to sleep. I’m not fake. I won’t play a sitcom character in your life.  But I can tell by your words and the straight eye that you are FAKE. Especially when I brighten up your eyes with the god damn TRUTH!

I do not pretend to dislike my family. I do not pretend to act like I secretly love them. I have a reason to not give a fuck in this world about anyone or anything..only if I choose! I have a reason to say, “HEY I never liked my fucking family and I’m fucking proud of it!” How many people you know can say that? Those be the same people to front and go kiss ass with their family later at the family gatherings and stupid fucking holidays. Well, no, my hate’s never changed for them. I’ve practically disowned them. I never had what some would call the Good Life. I never had that GOOD family. This is my fate, these were the cards that were given to me. But you act like you have problems, when they’re all social or all made up in your fucking head. Puh-lease!

Here’s the difference between me and you:  I like generalizing, I enjoy being a cynic, not because it keeps me on guard from the rest of the world. But because when you look all around you, what do you see in the world? Selfish motherfuckin assholes and bitches! How many people look out for themselves first or their families first, their money first, their orgasm first? So, who’s lying to themselves? Me or you?

The other difference between me and you is I don’t want anyone to pity me. See, if I give a shit if you side with me once I tell you the details in my teacup. Why I lift the way I do? Why Training is the only therapy besides writing for me? Yes, I know life has been shitty to me. And it took me a while to comprehend that “yes I can fucking CHANGE it!” I can be happy. I can accept me.  But don’t go thinking I’m something similar to you because chances are I’ am fuckin not!

Once again, the demons crawl at me and try to guilt me into seeing my mother in the hospital. So she’s been repeatedly dying since I was 9 of age. Back then, I used to believe in those television shows and how they portray that YES YOU CAN have the ultimate family life. No, no, no. More fake stuff. TV! I never got along with my mother because she never got along with me. So I can’t forgive and I try to forget. But I’m good at holding grudges just like I’m good at pissing  people off. Now she’s not responding in the hospital. I haven’t seen her in roughly a year. And I rather see her when she’s dead. Maybe, then I’ll go see her and head to her funeral.

And you think, you know me?

Pennington