Keith Hardeman

Rookie (June 7,1982 / Fort Worth, Texas)

The Preverbal - Poem by Keith Hardeman

The preverbal “hello”, no… no…no, I need something more sweet, something to let her know that with her I am complete. Deceit meets retreat, her beauty has steadied my feet. I repeat…..depleted and her saving grace was all I needed. Seeded deep in an abyss created by my soul, regarded as heaven but know one really knows. CHOICE to listen, even though I wasn’t looking I still paid attention, and then my ambitions changed something switched and the real man came out. I doubt the resolution could be contributed to too many nights of boozing. Hen after gin was the life I was choosing, loosing in every sense of the word. Everything I got was exactly what I deserved. These words unnerved me him and them. But the dyer results had no effect on them. Who of you choose to stand and deliver? Remember the boast of who would be the winner. To anything today yesterday or not yet attributed I left my heart at desolate two minutes from loser. And then she appeared sun dressed beauty in the middle of winter. December the something the small things I can’t remember. But what I remember vividly for as long as I gain years. Hers gods greatest creation, “she must of took years”. Thoughts out of thin air suddenly appeared. And the arrow from her enchantment, my heart directly it pierced. From the pain of astonishment I lost all fears. Appeared my confidence, can’t tell you how I mustard the nerve to stop you and tell you “I love you”. Who knew something so true real tranquil and divine, feathered touch milk chocolate is mine. In my mind in retrospect I was smittant. Hence the herald no more heartache the homies can wait. I’ve found true purpose, winning her heart. Departed from my home; crib for those with feeble minds. No matter the dialect- BEAUTY WAS MINE. I’m trying…… maturing with reckless abandon maturing from the touch of woman she gave me reason. To season my being, inoculate my demons. For her love, the reason I’m breathing. The only reason…treason, if you don’t see the same. Before my eyes laid eyes on beauty, the gun was to my brain. Loaded and cocked, tormented by this reality, then she saved me bathed me in something so soft to the touch and sweet. Blessed by her love, shall I repeat? Neat and tidy a vision to everybody inspired me to be all I could be. Once a adolescence now man is all you see. Steadfast and loyal, perfect tranquil peace from harmony embodies me put on display for the world to see. Not from the hands of a professional sculpture rather from the hands of beauty of her love seeds. Seeds of atonement for what immaturity had only deceived the value of a man transposed by reality on bended knees. I prayed….the answer delayed heaven must be getting a lot of prayers if you live in these days. To understand how they diluted our homes, judged us because of our braids. Hate to admit it, some say I digress but they were right to judge us. Acting like such fools carried guns endangered our health. And we never noticed till… 1… 2…3 were put to death. At the estranged hand of his brother none other. And we retaliated which such wretched anger and displaced flames. The toleration of our existence flooded our brains. A decade later, and nothing has changed. Brang lord please brang, bring the salvation of beauty so the world can see. The vulgarity of what we created and for years tried to escape it. Stop loving love and lusted abuse. Used our intellect to break the rules, cruel to the vessel that created the embodiment of me and you stood on our block and yelled, “true true”. Answered questions with “that’s just what we do”. Whoever knew that through our ignorance we could never be “true true”, if only we knew we funded deception with our reckless heckling. And all the while beauty was beckoning reckoning none of us took the time to even see. But now I’m a believer. For beauty has touched me. I see and seeing has never been clearer. All from beauty hope you find your December.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 27, 2008



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