Trapped in the cassette tape

Richard McDonald By Richard McDonald, 4th Sep 2014 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Poetry

This is close to my heart I had the best teacher in school who taught me drama and grade 1 haha she is like a second mother to me tragically she passed away of cancer. This poem is a very short story of our relationship and the fazes I went through and what happened. Since meeting her and the influence I am making an effort to write hope for survivors and fighters of cancer I thank her for giving my life direction hope you all will enjoy this piece.

Trapped in the cassette tape

Trapped in the cassette tape
Can’t believe that one nudge in grade 1 placed me here where I am today
You where the pebble I was the pond I am still rippling out the effect you have in my life
But do you see it, but do you see it do you know that you have done a good job.
Does God allow you? Does Heaven have windows?
I know that the stars is the ears to every soul and I scream to each one every night.
My voice will never tiered coz you taught me to speak trough my diaphragm and project
So I am projecting the influence of your life in the sands of mine.
Coz yours ran out.
I tried to find the beach that held the sands of time
No matter what I try I could not make time I did not have the ingredients
I would break my arms and put it on your clock if it meant that we could have a minute to say good bye. I know it’s hard but it’s even harder without.

I remember our last embrace you hugged me and as a boy getting ready for high school I was to cool for that, but you squeezed me so tight like a mother a baby at your breast you fed me your heart beat, as if you knew it was goodbye. And now I will never be cool again I will be warm open armed.
I wish I held that hug longer closer maybe I could have felt that pea sized killer but as I grow away it grow bigger, maybe others mistook that for a another heart, coz you were capable of that with so much love.
But it was not!!!!
Yet it had a life of its own with the intent to take yours, but not before
The doctors try to heal you with fire knifes atom bomb after atom bomb your stomach Hiroshima.
Blown up like an air balloon floating to heaven but the demon archers shot you down telling you:
You have to go through hell to get there.
Your bed side many faces but not me, did you wonder where is that son of mine
Did you think I have forgotten, like your hair has your scalp?
We sheared no blood line but you raised my poetry.
That’s all I have is cassette tapes with you teaching me how to speak feel interpret pronounce.
Before I could see and understand the value and say thank you,
Before I could use the tape to type you up and heal you,
The cassette became your casket.
You went home I did not have the address so I knocked at deaths door.
He does not answer for the living but he made an exception for me
He told me I am searching at the wrong place and that my time will come but not now.
I went to your grave made you a bed of tears.
But no amount of water made your flower grow again.
I know I was speaking to dust I am just hoping for a reply written on your tombstone. Or a shooting star.
That you know I never forgot you
That I always Loved you.
I found your address you stay where all the angles do
My voice only reaches God, I hope he gives this messages to you:
I know you don’t see the ripples you made
But one day when it’s my time I will knock and you will see my wave.

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author avatar C.D. Moore
4th Sep 2014 (#)

Sorry for your loss.

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