Poem Commentary

this one came to me last night as i was thinking about my sisters, my brothers and my mom and dad when we lived in a ghetto apartment in jersey city.



late at night
when the heating pipes came to life in the walls
the rats would scatter to escape the heat
and hurry and scurry into the halls
through my room and then throughout the house

my synapses would go off
firing and cracking as i heard large traps snapping
under the kitchen sink and behind the bathtub 

terrified, i lie still with my tattered flags gathered about me
could my family go on without me

my first demons had four legs
my bogeymen had tufts and tails and gathered garbage
in my second city

at first light i could see them
pulling themselves across the floor
like overweight hunchbacked men
returning home after a hard nights work
of preparing and scaring up new nightmares

for me


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gmcookie commented on rats


Wow, this brings back memories. I was a foster kid back in the days when there was little supervision of the system. I remember that the oldest boy (Norman) and I had to take turns sleeping on the kitchen table or on a narrow wooden bench in the kitchen. We couldn't sleep on the floor because of the rats. I hated the bench. There was no room to turn over, and then again, it was much closer to the rats too...



That is an AMAZING story !!!

poetryprincess commented on rats


Such a vivid picture was painted by your words, so descriptive and colorful yet so scary and truth told



thank you, princess. the memory of those nights are still with me. however, writing about it takes the sting off and i remember my family's struggles in the ghetto. we hung together and are stronger for it.

jj1562 commented on rats


What a fun way to confront a phobia Musophobia is not totally uncommon good write



thank you so much for reading me. most appreciated.

lisaner commented on rats


So vivid, Crush! The second stanza is especially strong to me. I'm a Jersey girl; I know of what you speak. Good work!!



thank you. such vivid memories with this one.

The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

Crush’s Poems (59)

Title Comments
Title Comments
carried off by owls 1
Santa Claus Is Coming Around 1
skin 2
the midnight girl 1
hold 1
here 0
the other 1
flashback 1
violent pretty 1
the people in the attic 1
the ride 1
my nightmares are awake 1
no bugs 6
waiting 3
welcome 5
a fetus in a clear bowling ball 6
crows feet 7
rats 5
the mobster 4
perfect 6
jumper 5
lady godiva 3
malaise 3
pirate 4
flight on time 3
fear of falling 4
unfinished crow ? 5
touch ( aka, am i made of summer ) 8
elephant 5
cancer 8
skyline 5
st. saviour 2
satellites 4
were you waiting for me ? 10
snapshot 5
fists 12
lauren 17
insomnia 18
ceremony 12
mother 14
ash 27
the june bug 15
low 19
thorns 10
paralyzed 9
mr. sparkle 15
dresses 15
glass 13
cemetaries 18
throe 18
if i fell in love 27
pills 22
off black 20
mannequin 22
umbrage 12
sick boy 12
kelly has a big head 21
unfairly fairy 26