Raging Bull

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    Raging Bull

    I got to our porch,
    when I dropped the sack...
    I knew he'd lost control
    when the bullets in his eyes,
    went off in my back..

    he dragged me..
    into our house,
    and there he beat me up..
    saying he had a reason,
    but couldn't tell me what..

    I hung my head,
    and crawled away..
    they weren't gonna find
    me dead today...

    they'd put him away,
    if they could see...
    the disgrace
    of cuts and bruises,
    I wear on my face...

    falling down,
    to bended knee..
    screaming for my skull..
    kicked and whipped,
    shaking and aching,
    I live with a raging bull...

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Bohemian’s Poems (37)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Flower Power 4
    Raging Bull 2
    There's Always A Next Time.. 5
    Vehicular Violence 2
    Unrested 0
    Social Shrinkage 0
    Fresh Air of Spring 1
    Park Bench Pitty -1
    Mad Smell 0
    Damned Old Daydream.. 0
    Dirt Road Relation 0
    Dallas Poetry Reading 3
    Rehabilitatio
    n Time
    3
    Moline 3
    Shoe Court 1
    Paper Face 5
    Eye Of The Needle 1
    Lady Junkie 1
    Buddha of Beat! 3
    It's Alright, You're His Wife 3
    1706 East Houston Street 1
    His Other Side 1
    2501 West Walker Street 1
    Battered Wife 6
    Temporary Death 2
    Search Party Pill 0
    Bird Brain 0
    Ode To Us 4
    Loneliness 2
    Abstract 2
    Mr. Majestic 2
    Neophyte 3
    Here, There, Nowhere... 0
    Bodhisattva Jack 1
    Domestic Violence 2
    Ginsberg 1
    Gangland War 0