Nine Kinds of Hell by Anthony Spaulding

Posted: January 9, 2010 in Poems
I’ve been through nine kinds of hell.
My touch, taste, hearing, sight and smell;
have all been derailed.
My cell is sailing on a lake of fire.
I can sell you dreams, but tell nightmares
with the premeditation of murder for hire.
Liar, liar!
And all that came with it.
Higher, higher! Twisted.
I’ve been thrown off a swing, body in a sling.
I lie in between pure hatred, segregation,
and physical intimidation.
The seperation of a spirit and soul:
burnt, stabbed, shot and sold.
The hot coals!
To be bold is to hold back and compose,
or depose and erode like the crooning of the old.
All this foretold through a life in a cold stove;
So I tell!
During nine years of jail, nine times I’ve failed.
I’ve been through nine kinds of hell!
I’ve got issues,
real issues like getting out!
Crying tears, battered years,
and they are spitting south.
A mouth with no use, my words are never heard.
My verbs have no action, my living is absurd,
so I think a thought and dream what could be.
My issues bleed trilogies;
turn melodies into bad harmonies.
I’m a prodigy and a prodigal son
with no expression;
but depression;
and it’s layered.
Vengeful prayers for my slayers
and the invisible barricades that parade my being –
persuade my seeing,
and not for the last time.
I’ll find a way, says my faithless optimism.
Never have, never will be
a victim of criticism,
and alot of other isms that have their own issues.
Whose issues have issues!
What can I do?  The sunlight touches me blue.
My heart regurgitated the puke,
and spewed the ultimate truth.
That resolves all issues
till judgement.
    by Anthony Spalding

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