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Mecca was mud in my backyard (Free verse) by Y2kSlamPoet

[mental picture of my father, sent via psychic e-mail] You spoke, and I awoke in serenity. You took me to the holy city- without traveling. My feet never knew of being covered in dust- they were used to mud from our backyard. Said that a curse was a creditcard- the big mistake was a wedding cake. You admitted to both; called yourself a boy that looks like a man- while others said you were a saint. You explained things when the situation called, otherwise- catch phrase and a witty punchline. Organic- but you were more than flesh. When dying- you spoke, despite having lost the ability, and conveyed to me the tranquility of your pending repose. (even then you kept your calm demeanor) You gave me the best advice once, with a smile- it sounded like a joke then, but wasn't. "Be Happy" Answering my mothers only advice: "Have no regrets"

SupremeDreamer 24-Nov-03/2:28 PM
My friend, it has been a long journey through words.

I've assumed many forms and views, staggered in the mud, strayed from my preconceptions, etc- while getting to know my strengths/flaws.

I've become confident of my abilities after being beaten & chastised to the max, even now- but honestly? I hope folks keep pounding the wooden hammer, wouldn't feel right otherwise.

Being told that I've become a good writer? Well, feels wierd- can't complain though, and DA will make sure it doesn't get to my head.

But group hugs must go- much too disturbing for my senses. ;]




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