I often drifted
Into the bitterness
Of nightmares
While sobbing away tears
Of brutal pain.
With sporadic breathing
Swallowing tears
Hoping I won’t wake up
Screaming
In the dark night’s
Dismalness of my room.
In fears
Of awakening
The sleeping dragon
That left his trade mark
In the aftermath of a beating
Branding me with bruised welts
Upon my bare back
From the law of the strap.
I know at times
I was
What they called a bad seed
A rebel in my preteens
I braced myself
For what the belt that secured
His pants
Had in stow for me
And I took it like a man.
I didn’t understand
What the rage was all about
As he dispensed
The onslaught
Upon me so small
Though a brat.
I tried my out most best
To run and hide
But where?
While within a locked room.
I dived under my bed
For protection
To no avail
He would dismantle the bed
And proceeded to disciplined me
With the devil’s rage
In his eyes.
When I became a man
He treated me different
With respect
As I returned
Home an Ex- Marine.
Things changed
He mellowed with time and age
Beside his moments of rage,
He took care of his family
Together we were nine
I never looked back
To unwanted
Memories of time
When he died
I cried..
**********
Oh my what a heart wrenching write my friend, you've penned a write that all too many are familiar or have memories such as these buried within them...but as your write says we cannot live in the past but take each new day one day at a time and strive to make a better home eternally.
Blessings,
Joyce B.
Heart and soul touching Dearest William.
Although we may have all worn the wrath of such rageful installments, the greatest feats of all is to take up hearts and run with all the might keeping the preciousness of our heart nestled with care to later take out to groom,mend and give for the sake of love.
In my heart you are such a warm, loving, caring, and heart giving man of whom I shall never forget. We are sis/bros through the blood stripe...mammaluke and all~the few and the proud!
I know you will never forget as they say...we are who we are and not where we came from!
In lovingkindness SEMPER FI all the way,
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm
Reviewed by Winter Knight (Reader)
Reviewed on August 8, 2007
wow that was really deep
Been there still doing that
an engaging write, william. really touches a nerve with me at a personal level. i was one of eleven & eldest daughter; dad was a very difficult man, especially when drinking. i was the only one with him when he passed his last hours on planet earth xmas eve some ten years ago...; and yes, i too cried when he died... glad you learned to move on. no small feat.
peace and blessings fine poet,
carolyn
William, those scars never leave...do they? This is such a heart rendering writing...it brought tears to my eyes. Years ago punishments were kept behind closed doors and the soul knew not to mention them to anyone else for fear of what would happen to them. I wonder if punishment is the same today as yesteryear because no one knows what goes on behind closed doors. It's good to shed the scabs of those beatings and let them, at least, see there's a healing around the corner. Look at those wounds and realize you didn't deserve the pain you endured and you'll not let them keep you from enjoying your life.
William, I too was brought up in a home where my father was very abusive to our Mother and the kids, we grew up in fear, although there were times he could be the greatest dad in the world, we feared that would change in seconds as it often did. It helps to get it out, and yes when he died we too cried. Hope you too can put this behind and live a happy life.
Rose
When your father died you cried, when mine passed away...I didn't, I cried for my buddies in Omaha Beach, Inchon Beach and Nam, but I never cried for the dead of a stranger.
You know what? our souls are made by welts that rage put together.
Tears Before The Nightmare should be read by all those SOB that abuse their defenseless children.
Georg
Your life's journey has brought many changes, my friend, and I think as we get older, our perspectives truly change. And I hope pleasant dreams and memories come to seek you out these days.
William,
I understand, I was a victim of abuse when I was young, but it was my father beating my mother. We children lived in fear of his unleashing on us one day..that never happened, but none the less, we feared being beaten everyday...It is not a fair way to spend our childhood, but you know what, it was way more normal than we ever imagined. A lot of people our age lived with this everyday. Just be thankful that you are here breathing and able to write about it! Live and breath each day for the rest of your life as if nothing matters but being happy!
Peace, Love, and Light,
Amber "V"
Reviewed by Ron (sketchman) Axelson (Reader)
Reviewed on August 7, 2007
Your a hell of a man to share this part of you William.
Stay safe...
Reviewed by twinklewrites at her desk (Reader)
Reviewed on August 7, 2007
Damn William...ya got me crying...he must have done right, take a good look at the outstanding man that you are! (God Bless you for
serving in the Marines!!!!) Painful experiences in past, to learn from
and gain wisdom...a most tender write...Hugs, Peggy
I am a lucky one. I dream of traveling and meeting people with different faces and costumes. I never dream of horror on danger. I'm lucky. Bless you!
love,
Susan
This is a book of free verse poetry that addresses the seven main tests in life and offers some sensible solutions to passing those tests with minimal discomfort.
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
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(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
I'm sorry for your loss--
Blessings,
Joyce B.
A powerful rendering of a true heart,
Heart and soul touching Dearest William.
Although we may have all worn the wrath of such rageful installments, the greatest feats of all is to take up hearts and run with all the might keeping the preciousness of our heart nestled with care to later take out to groom,mend and give for the sake of love.
In my heart you are such a warm, loving, caring, and heart giving man of whom I shall never forget. We are sis/bros through the blood stripe...mammaluke and all~the few and the proud!
I know you will never forget as they say...we are who we are and not where we came from!
In lovingkindness SEMPER FI all the way,
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm
Been there still doing that
peace and blessings fine poet,
carolyn
Love Tinka
George
Peace,
Dan
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :( >tears! <
Rose
You know what? our souls are made by welts that rage put together.
Tears Before The Nightmare should be read by all those SOB that abuse their defenseless children.
Georg
I understand, I was a victim of abuse when I was young, but it was my father beating my mother. We children lived in fear of his unleashing on us one day..that never happened, but none the less, we feared being beaten everyday...It is not a fair way to spend our childhood, but you know what, it was way more normal than we ever imagined. A lot of people our age lived with this everyday. Just be thankful that you are here breathing and able to write about it! Live and breath each day for the rest of your life as if nothing matters but being happy!
Peace, Love, and Light,
Amber "V"
Stay safe...
serving in the Marines!!!!) Painful experiences in past, to learn from
and gain wisdom...a most tender write...Hugs, Peggy
love,
Susan
Richard