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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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American 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