PAD Challenge Day 2: Vol.1: In the Life and Times of Dr. DR
PAD Challenge Day 2: Write a B- movie poem.
Vo1.: In the Life and Times of Dr. DR
A grand opening of me
forming in the womb of my mother.
Swimming freely in a judgmental world.
She is a life jacket, a safe home I've never
wanted to flee just to become a refugee.
Underage and underwater,
with little sense I could sense this
world was wicked and miserable.
She’ll tell you that I was supposed to be born
One to two weeks before Easter Sunday–
how I turned around three times,
and almost took her life while
she was preparing to give me a
beautiful one. And still today
she’ll happily tell you that this
was the only hell and pain
I’ve ever given her.
I’m sharing food with a lady I’ll never have a
full conversation with outside baby coos,
stares and giggles. I wish Roxie could have
lived longer. She died when I was just one. I have
a lifetime with her jewelry box and brooches
now. There is so much I could have learned
from my great great grandmother who raised
my maternal grandmother. I wish my great
grandmother Mary could have
lived a little longer too. For my grandmother
Betty’s sake, and her 7 siblings,
I just wanna know why she
neglected her children
the way she did.
I’m the life of the party.
A sun at night.
A natural born star during the day.
My hair is freshly braided or in ponytails,
swinging with new Goody hair bows that my
Momma let me pick out.
I’m probably wearing a dress or
matching top and shorts or skirt in pastel or neon colors.
I’m dancing to “It Takes Two” by Rob Base
with my mom’s best friend Antoinette or
“New Kids on the Block” or Solid Gold .
Alone, I’m happy just being nerdy me,
reading The Berenstain
Bears, Babysitters Club,
or Paddington Bear
while chewing Zebra Stripe gum or
A Saturday scene would be me
playing hopscotch, hula hooping,
selling Thin Mints or waiting for my dad to show up.
For birthdays, I pinned the tail on the donkey
and blew wishes over Winnie the Pooh cakes.
Every summer was extra cool with grape or peach
Popsicles, penny candy, summer camps,
Cracker Jack and me recording Foxy’s 99
Top Summer Jams on cassette tapes
while painting my finger and toe nails with my
bedroom window open because I love a
summer breeze like the Isley Brothers.
I’ll open this scene with
a prayer of thanksgiving.
A flashback will appear to show
my brother and father coming back
from the store to my
father’s girlfriend's house,
where I was saved by the
door opening from
becoming a victim and
member of the
Me Too movement.
It’s World War 3 between my parents.
I’m beginning to feel like everything is my
fault. I have no idea how to form a Peace
Treaty like I learned in social studies.
I just think, if I wasn’t here,
arguments about what’s best and not best
for me would never happen.
Here is were journals become my best friend
to my stanzas, short stories, and dreams.
And because of Marian Anderson, I
became infatuated with the violin.
For my 9th birthday, aunt
Jean and mom purchased me one.
I found joy in all the lessons learned and
concerts I performed. I really felt like
somebody. I felt alive again.
I’m standing in the middle of middle school
and I don't know what’s happening. At this
moment, I’m not sure if school is a “truth or
dare” game or a place for education?
First, a teacher accuses me of stealing
and I wasn’t even in the room.
Second, I get into a petty fight in orchestra.
Third, in the bathroom,
I’m offered drugs by another student.
I remembered D.A.R.E., so I say “no”.
In the stairwell and locker room of the gym,
I see sex and bullying.
In the hallways, I see two girls pregnant.
Outside the school, on my way home I see drugs sold.
For Christmas, I got my first Precious Moment Bible.
I go to church and see the loudest Amens and Hallelujahs
are produced by family and friends of the
family that destroyed other households and families.
I grow quiet again so I won’t be called Miss Know It All
just to be named Stuck Up and
Miss Goodie Two Shoes. I’m not smiling at
much as I want to, so people think I’m angry,
destructive or disturbed. When really I’m
confused and speechless about everything
that’s happening around me.
I’m in high school and all I can think about is
how high in excellence I can be while
others choose Mary Jane and ecstasy.
For every A+, there was something new that I love or
an album on my bed or under the tree from my
mom. She knew my love for music. It was a
second lifeline between us. I didn't have many
friends but I understood what it took to be the
best one to everybody except for myself.
So, back to back, I kept pushing myself
out of the shell the world pushed me in.
I’m in every club from French, HOSA, SGA,
Honor Society to Key Club,
in search of peers with a similar
mentality and level of intellect.
Every summer I’m at
Fayetteville State University,
learning about college and survival skills–
Trying to stay under the influence of positivity
because I fear being under the influence
and failing at life.
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