Where I live, music plays right before you die.
It’s always been this way.
I’ve heard the music death plays,
a golden echo of chimes burrowing through
my ear like a finger.
My brother knows it too,
tells me –Get away from here. Go home.
I leave him at the corner near the mailbox no one uses.
A man approaches him with money, and my brother
with his slight of hand, tiny green bag between his fingers,
slides it in the man’s hand.
A car pulls up, an arm hanging from the window with a gun,
and shoots.
My brother shoots back, running between this car and that car
like a dolphin jumping in and out of water.
Little cubes of glass raining down my shirt.
Coiled smoke that smells like a burning mattress,
and the chime of bullet shells falling from my brother’s 9 mil,
as he pushes my head between my knees,
holds it there, until the music is over.
.
Author notes
A F R O Q B A N
This is about me at the age of 11, wanting to hang out with my older brother who was then 19, while he sold drugs. He made me leave, and while walking away a gun fight broke out.
Come on be blunt! I'm not sensitive, so if something sucks or needs to be changed, let me know.
Comments
1 - 38 of 38
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this is ill man... such a well told story.. great stuff!
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My grandson (10 years old) and me were in the midst of some gun play one night this past summer simply because I wanted a pineapple soda and this corner store, not so far from home was the only place I knew of where I could buy a bottle. The wonderful thing is my grandson's spirit of discernment. He knew something was about to happen before it actually happened and told me; "grandma, something feels wrong here...".
I saw the steel of the gun glisten in the dark, and quickly ran back and jumped into the car. Three young boys (ages 16 or 17) were in the process of robbing this guy on his cell phone who stood in front of the store. We managed to get away unharmed. We saw the Cops at the gas station around the corner, and reported the incident. I couldn't make out the boys faces, had never seen the victim. The next day, I discovered that he had been shot three times. I remember five shots ringing out.
I am grateful to be alive, and for my grandson's attentive behavior and young life. My father used to say; "stray bullets have no names"
You have written a very vivid account from your childhood. I am glad you survived to tell the tale.
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Holy cow! I have no suggestions for you, I am so blown away.
celticqueen
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this is some tough straight up true shit. this brings back a lil memmory of my own. great write here. keep penning
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aww. thanks. im glad you liked it and took the time to check it out
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Wow
The greatest type of poetry to read in my opinion is real life straight raw shit and you do that well. The images you created made it like watching a movie for real. I could see each scene play before my eyes! Excellent write!!
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hey thats all im into these days lol. thanks for coming by
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No one ever really knows they're poor until someone tells them so. No one ever understands how rough their upbringing was until they see the sunlight from a different hill, as you did when you had your child. A gripping piece with solid bites of reality to chill one's bones. Good luck in the contest, Poet. 
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aint that the truth. thanks for reading this and leaving a nice comment
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Very good indeed.
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thank u very much
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I wont say anything about your style as you knwo we share the same thing, story telling in poetry, but what i like here was your words and references you made. I specially like the mailbox no one uses and then the mattress burning. I like it when things are detailed in a write, things observed and seen when most can't. This was amazing, as always DJ, your writes always move me. It's been long I havent read from you, but I shall try to come more often and see what u have. thanks for sharing your childhood memory, even though a painful one.
Love and light
Lencio
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thank you very much, I didnt know if those things you mentioned sounded dumb or what, I just know when I think back to that day, those were the things I remember..Mail box no one uses because people would light the inside on fire, and the burning mattress because I remember kids lighting thrown away mattresses on fire in the alley. The smell was so nasty. But hey im running on and on lol, thanks for reading and enjoying my poem. Much love and respect to you.
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Not exactly the regular "childhood memories" that most would have. !!
Your life experiences amaze me...!!!
Must have been a terrifying experience for you, being so young.
Some things you write about, are like things I see on TV, but not in real life.
It makes me appreciate how fortunate I am to live in a country & society that is relatively safe....!!
I read in earlier comments about your brother's death....
Your world sounds scary....it saddens me that you've experienced so much raw violence, a reality that seems so removed from my own life experiences.
Yet again you have penned life as you've experienced it...just as it is.!!! but there are always gems in your writes...your brother's love... & looking out for you.
And the "Music Death Plays"...speaks of your intuitive knowing.
Great work. wishing you all the best in the contest
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you know, I didnt realize how bad my childhood was until I had my first child at age 25 years old. To be honest, I always thought my childhood was normal. I really didn't know. And though I would never want my children to go through what I have been through, I will say my childhood made me a better person and took me to places that educated me in areas of survival where as college was a piece of cake. Thank you so much for coming by, much love to you.
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Not a perfect poem, but an amazing one! I'm going to recommend it to some friends.
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thank you very much for coming by and taking a look. means so much. And whoever you recommend, I hope they enjoy it as well.
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It's wonderful and perfect.
If you want to pull on this poem
check out the spoken word poets
on you tube under the search word
def poetry jam
listening to them could help you
pull upon each line and word
if you want to stretch it out....
I loved your poem!
It's a contemporary beauty!
Leaves it mark-dead on!
ears/Seattle sis
Thankyou for sharing it with us!
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it's nice to read your comment, makes me feel really good to have you like something I worked hard on. And yes I live on Youtube and def poetry jam lol. A few poets on there such as red storm I see everyday as we grew up in the same area in chicago.
thank you so much for coming by and checking out my poem. Much love and respect to you.
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we are where fate put us, we choose little of time and place; it is all in what we make of things. You show here danger and calm, bravery and necessity, wisdom and a most profound kind of love...remarkable...PK
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I agree! thanks so much for coming by and checking this out. much love to you
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I have been moved by the pain and raw honesty palpable in these words penned by you there is nothing I would want to alter I love it as it is.Thanks for sharing...
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thank u very much for your kind words. Im glad you enjoyed it and didnt think it was a waste lol. much love to you
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Amazing. (:
This was written very well. You showed descriptive mental images like watching a movie. great job. (:
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thank you much for taking the time out to read it. means a lot. much love to you
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good
i liked it. -
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thank u much. and thanks for taking the time to read and comment. much love
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I can see it and smell it... and HEAR it. Great work, poet!
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thank you much. Was trying my hardest to show what it was like. Much love to ya my friend
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You are a natural...writing is what you were meant to do - these poems are remarkable in that there is never any self-pity or excuses for what life has dealt you. Your strength shows, your poetry is superb, and I will always read you.
L
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you, my friend, are one of the reasons I stayed on this site and kept writing. Much love to you and thank you
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gave me chills bro. reminds me of my younger years in the streets of LA. Don't stop writing my man, you're a natural
-Raven
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thanks a lot for that. Younger years in LA huh, man I've been there, and as pretty as it is, cant belive the stuff that happens. Thanks again for coming by and leaving ur mark. Much love
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Reportage'
Your creative writings belong in a Daily publication
such as the Tribune.
You write Truth.
You thrust onto the uninitiated, the grit of real life
& you do it better than most.
However, we both know, that the powers that be
would rather present a sanitized version
of the 'politically correct.
Keep writing 'As it is'.
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thank you very much for that. You know I have had a few of my poems published in urban or local black publications before, but never in anything popular. I always get the rejection letter lol. But i refuse to follow trends in writting like I used too, I belive the reader is important dont get me wrong, but if i only have a few readers that can dig my work, im good with that. Cant please everybody right? Much love and respect to you.
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now that's a scary scene, but I appreciate they way you told it. The ending was so good. I really like the way you write.
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aww thanks. True story too. My brother is now dead, girlfriend stabbed him while he was sleep. No one saw that coming lol.
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that's horrible. I can't say I can relate to this, coming where I come from, it was more drunken donnie brooks; bottles over the head, flying fists... no guns
around, thank god, or I think the story would've been very different.
You sound like you have alot more stories to tell, and though they are painful to read, like an impending accident coming, I want to see them. Human nature, right? hugs
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