Coral Hull: Poetry: Psychic Gun: 1. Early Years/ 7. Nocturnal Emissions

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: PSYCHIC GUN
7. NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS

'get away get away' i was having nightmares every
night/ kicking off the blankets & sleep walking/
death was chasing me/ dad said 'i shut my fucking
door to get a bit of sleep'/ dad has flying dreams &

laughs/ he dreams all the time about crims chasing
him/ dale cries out for d d d d dad & stutters on the
word/ dad comes home & knocks mum down &
scatters poker machine winnings up & down the

hallway/ the next day dale is twiddling sticks
broken off trees in the backyard/ his nobby knees
shaking on skinny bruised legs/ 'sparrow legs' my
father called them/ dale lying down near the rear

of the backyard bird aviary with wide teary eyes
beneath the oleander trees/ his hair working around
& around into big knots/ his endless thumb sucking
nourishment/ teeth that became more bucked/ why

did dale cry so much?/ if i had known i would not
have pulled his hair until he screamed or thumped
him in the back/ if i hadn't been so angry inside
myself/ & if dale hadn't been so angry he mightn't

have knocked brendon's tooth out with a big rock
& mightn't have pushed brendon off the wrought
iron balcony so that his arm broke/ but we were
all very angry/ on windy days the anger flew up &

out into the sky/ mum locked us out of the house
& dad saying we became frisky in the wind/ that
we went wild & stupid/ we screamed & ran
around all day/ warped the clothesline/ flooded

the yard with the hose/ had mud & dog shit fights/
tipped the trampoline on its side & ran up it/ until
it came crashing down through the fibro wall of
the shed/ we threw shit on leech's window/ some

one's shit from a bucket/ no-one would own up to
it/ their lacy curtains were shut but it stuck like
wasp nests to the glass/ ready for when they sat
down for dinner/ every house in the street was

rocked/ dale was the fastest runner & the best
rock thrower/ he said 'i am a better rock thrower
than you because i have straight eyes'/ mum
became worried for dale & his 'stick twiddling'/

she brought him tiny tin aeroplanes with plastic
propellers/ he played with them for a short time/
but soon went back to sticks/ sugar, salt &
preservatives riddling his body/ on the rampage

via his temper/ no-one knew what was wrong
with him/ his legs running around & around the
backyard like his little wooden putt putt train on
its track/ it was like there was a restlessness

inside that he couldn't escape/ there was no way
into dale's world & no way out/ my brothers'
bedroom was a long way down the other end
of the house/ brendon wheezing into baldy's fur

whilst mum dusted her dressing table crystal/
brendon slept in his glasses & clung to the cat
who always came in late for dinner with watery
grey eyes/ during the night his teeth were ground

down like chalk/ nightmares & bed wetting &
calling out/ i took to sleeping with the fish tank
light on/ we were just children with no defence/
little sponges absorbing joys & horrors

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

I Home I Biography I Testimony I Articles I Poetry I Prose I Artwork I Photography I Notebook I