CACTUS
Thorn on my side, my feet rather
yet my memory engulfed by it's puncture
for the times it pierced my sole(and soul!)
As we cut through the bushes for an early reach(enroute to Baraxley)
not knowing we would traceback
to succumb twice to the agony
yet it remains my only metaphor for an early identity
yet my memory engulfed by it's puncture
for the times it pierced my sole(and soul!)
As we cut through the bushes for an early reach(enroute to Baraxley)
not knowing we would traceback
to succumb twice to the agony
yet it remains my only metaphor for an early identity
It's green and thorny
It is Cactus, tiin-tiin, and bears trauma !
Never mind we walked through cactus field,endured all the wear and tear.Never mind someone would tell on me for missing dugsi.Never mind I would come back all dusty and ugly.What I never did foresee was the ass whopping that would eclipse all the joy because I missed dugsi. I always had my suspicions that my sister had role in getting me trouble.
-Che Cirro
It is Cactus, tiin-tiin, and bears trauma !
Never mind we walked through cactus field,endured all the wear and tear.Never mind someone would tell on me for missing dugsi.Never mind I would come back all dusty and ugly.What I never did foresee was the ass whopping that would eclipse all the joy because I missed dugsi. I always had my suspicions that my sister had role in getting me trouble.
-Che Cirro
posted by CHE' at Sunday, February 04, 2007
2 Comments:
How i feared maaclin dugsi back then...and how i loved playing soccer. my macaliin just loved to beat us especially when we came late because of football. The thing is, we never learnt from our mistakes, which i suspect was a joy for our macaalin!
Nice poem man.
I was terrified of my father finding out that I missed dugsi; prospect that I dreaded.I coped with rest.
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