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Raechael Woodroof

Managing My Free Time Until We Meet

I have been aching and craving
Was watching as the clock ticked by.

I've been rallying
Finding ways to keep close in your view.

I've been seeking and searching looking for ease.
I've been stretching and leaning and waiting to get on my knees.

I've been practicing crawling and kneeling
Without haste.
I've been licking my lips
Simply starving for your taste.

I've been coming up with ways to get you on the ground.
How to make you blow fast without making a sound.

So when you feel tight and are looking for release.
I will slip you in my mouth and swallow some peace.

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What the Little Ones Do For Me..........

Bright shining little eyes
Messy little toes
Dirty little fingers
With a snotty little nose.

Pure innocent hearts
With ever learning minds
Only a child are all these things you'll find.

Love that is forgiving
Love that is true
Love that loves to cuddle
Just to steal the warmth from you.

Beautiful laughter
Beautiful tears
Beautiful children
Growing beautiful years.

Questions being asked

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Only A Limited Time

So 5 days of silence
5 days to compile
5 days to realize
This inner peace will take awhile.

Consumed by brother's weakness
Enraged by father's hate
Only now I've had 5 days
To sit and contemplate.

Showing people sides of me
That they have never seen
Giving out pamphlets
Trying to chart what all this means.

So 5 days to find an angel.
One I thought was lost.
Five days to reconnect
With time that exceeds
All past times lost.

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So You Want Hear About Love

Well I want to see it.
I heard it had died.
What a bastard I am for not going to Love's casket side to mourn.
Died far back,
After seeing people did not matter to us knowing them.

I will pay my respects but I have never been to good at eulogies.

I cannot tell you in words what it meant.

Not that 'I' had it to lose
Never had it to miss.
My remembrance of it vague.
Stayed drunk through the most of it.

A whore down the road swore she had seen it
But that was some cheap drug fueled beast she witnessed.

The man who makes up for his lack of looks
Only by having an abundance of asininity,

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They Get Riled So Easily

All stirred up by the words that come out on these pages.
These thoughts are best left to staunch women
Who sit happily under a repressive veil of undetermined class.

Why, no one is ever angry!
We sit here wanting to hold hands and LOVE one another.
Then we shut the door
We lay back and let all those slurs roll off our tongues.
We think all those thoughts we dare not speak.
Then we condemn ourselves
and creep back into our repression.

With all our gaucherie tucked back into place we stroll on.

Keeping these things in is a bit like constipation.
You take in so much supposed cerebral sustenance
Gulping it down from which ever way it pours out.
Did you think it would not turn into cerebral feculence?

Keep carrying that in

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The Ones On The Streets

I was human once and it looked a lot like you.
Hopes, dreams, and bathrooms.
Surprisingly easy how that all slips away.
Hunkered in alleys, cops chasing when you left your leg to piss.

I used to worry about important things like what to watch, what to wear, where to go have a drink, and who might win the game.
Now it is all frivolous.
Where to sleep, when will I eat, will I find a coat to wear, and who will win the race towards death?
The junkie or the prostitute.
All so frivolous.

When I was human you would have smiled at me.
Talked to me.
If I had tripped while walking you would have even worried about my health.
Now that I am like the stray down the road you won't even look at me.
Afraid I may follow you home.
Best to not feed me I will only want more.

All these frivolous things they come and they go.
Amazing how hunger never leaves you, it is a horribly loyal companion.

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For My Brothers

John Coltrain, cheap boxed wine, stars melting on heart strings that fall down from the sky.
So here comes your drugs they are clouding your heart. Then there goes your world you are falling apart.
Ground lying and wondering where this will lead. You missed that tomorrow, you wouldn't take heed. I saw you when standing and I saw you fall,
I reached out my hand and yelled out my empty call.
I scream and I yell I stomp stomp and you died. No tears do I weep just a broken down sigh, I pick up these pieces but more come crashing in.

The other last brother his life, hope, and dreams at an end. I fought, still fighting, hold on and I do. My life cannot flourish without him or you.

I fell through my grace at an astounding speed, maybe it was I whom should of taken heed.
Innocence failing, disgrace to our name. We can still rise above it- no we can't- and I am tarred down by my pain. I have adapted to life walking alone. I go around the family and I take on your stones. Whatever they throw can't ever be felt by an empty heart crushed without any true wealth.

These parties, those trees, those tears, and our pride. I'm carrying these memories since both of you died.
Excuse my slight hatred, my shortened contempt, , it's obvious you 2 never saw how much you meant.

Do you remember? ?

Heart seething, life bleeding lines of disease, it's heart breaking, graveyard raking pathways you choose to be free.

Farewell my dear brothers! How foolish tis thee! You might never have understood what you 2 were to me.

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