My Journey as a Poet – post #5


Babies Killing Babies

After the Atlanta Arts Festival was over I went back home and I started writing. The year was still 1992. It was September. I was in South Carolina. It was still 75 to 80 degrees on a daily basis. Perfect weather for writing. I lived across the street from a junior college where I studied computer science. The campus sat on about ten acres of land. Several two to four story buildings were sprawled across the acres connected by wide sidewalks spread over green grass that stayed freshly cut. This was the scene from the sliding glass doors leading out to my patio.

My desk sat facing the glass door. As a matter of fact my desk was flush against the door. It was a draftsman table. It stood about three and a half feet tall.  It was white in color with a black trim around its corners and its base.  The table tilted into a slant which made writing on it like writing on a giant clipboard. The height of the table was adjustable and so was the height of my chair. Needless to say, I was very comfortable during the many hours I spent writing.

I wrote my first poetry chapbook and I gave it a title: “Social Conscience”. This chapbook consisted of a few of my angry poems. I was angry at the world. I was angry at racists. I was angry at bureaucrats. I was angry at family. I was angry at friends. Most of all I was angry at myself for not knowing what I was really angry about. All of that anger spilled over into a few of my poems.

The first poem of “Social Conscience” was named after Sly Stone’s song “Babies Making Babies” and its title was “Babies Killing Babies”. I look back at that poem now and it is no longer a favorite of mine but I will print it in this post. (this poem was written in 1992 and I am reprinting just as it was written then –retro language and all)

Babies Killing Babies

babies killing babies
at the corners of hell and hades
while politicians wax fat and lazy
watching the world turn wild and crazy

babies carrying pistols
listen to the bullets whistle
pricking flesh like hot thorns and thistles
exploding on impact like warhead missiles

babies killing babies
at the corners of hell and hades
while politicians wax fat and lazy
watching the world turn wild and crazy

babies no longer desire mama’s milk
babies want rubies, gold coins and silk
they’ve grown tired of government filth
and pinball machines that so easily tilt

babies killing babies
at the corners of hell and hades
while politicians wax fat and lazy
watching the world turn wild and crazy

Please stay tuned for more in the next post of “My Journey as a Poet “. In the meantime if you missed any of the previous posts, they are listed below:

Post #1

https://jtjohnpoet.com/2017/06/13/my-journey-as-a-poet/

Post #2

https://jtjohnpoet.com/2017/06/20/my-journey-as-a-poet-post-2/

Post #3

https://jtjohnpoet.com/2017/06/27/my-journey-as-a-poet-3/

Post #4

https://jtjohnpoet.com/2017/07/03/my-journey-as-a-poet-4-2/

2 thoughts on “My Journey as a Poet – post #5

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