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April Pittman

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Featured Book
The Confession of a Paedophile Priest
by James Skivington

An alcoholic journalist, unemployed and with a failed marriage behind him, sets out to track down an Irish priest accused of child abuse in an orphanage...  
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The Captain and I
by April Pittman
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by April Pittman
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           >> View all 212

The sun finally shines and here
I am walking down this treacherous street.
Every footfall takes me places
I never wanted to meet.
Each step a betrayal
as the ground fails to hold me up.
It swears it's tired of keeping me up
and it just won't do it any more.
The clouds rest on my shoulders
like heavy heavy intentions,
the very greyness of their nature
shoving me to the ground.
The rain consoles,
a sad attempt to make this serious mood dissipate.
It's fat droplets splattering on my cheeks.
At least I no longer have to cry for myself.
I do so get tired of crying for myself every day.
Crying for the loss of these words
that were never my friends anyway.
They wrap around me like cartoonish ghouls
from an innocent world long ago
when cartoons could still be scary
and wait to feed on my empty carcass
each and every time I give up.
Today.
Today I have sure as hell given up.

I imagine he sleeps with a restless soul that tosses within him.
Perhaps it even makes his shoulders shake.
Deep in the night when she assumes he is asleep.
He is the Captain of this ship
and it's destination is the past.
Forever a goal but never reached.
It's a trend these days,
to wear your heartache on your tongue
like nobody's business.
Lord knows, I've begun that fad myself.
He brushes his teeth at night
before slipping into little boys pajamas.
Then washes the blood from his hands
and burns the clothing he'd worn
on his long journey of self-deprecation that day.
I imagine running my fingers along his cheek
but the daydream always ends with an old man's eyes
scaring me awake.
Who could know the unexpected turns
a crazy man's intentions can take.
He thinks the world is going to judge him
so I've promised to wear my best broken heart
to the trial in his hands.

 

 



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Reviewed by karen logan 12/13/2010
Bow to no one April. This write is a true poets heart to me. You have a true gift. Thank you so much for sharing. Love and Light, Karen
Reviewed by Mitzi Jackson 2/8/2005
wow captivating!!!
this story/poem is someones'
hellish reality
you have it coined here
thinking and loving someone to find
they were only that person to you
enjoyed this reality...........
Reviewed by Tracey L. O' Very (Reader) 2/5/2005
This is so sad and scarey and true. The feelings you've written here ~ remarkable. Loved all of this loved the crying of the raindrops tired of crying for myself. Remarkable poem Deep and dark.
Thank You
Love Tracey xoox
Hope you aren't crying and only smiling.
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader) 2/5/2005
This is fascinating write here. Compelling and tragic.
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