When It Rains
BY MR. THROWDOFF HISSELF
And when it rains
So begins the construction of my abode
Shielding my pain
Remembering wanting to be outside
Wanting to dance to the sky’s baseline
And when it rains
Memory’s faint breath blows in my mind
Moistening my masculinity
Stirring a libido that only rain drops can find
And when it rains
I stand under Heaven’s shower to be washed in spirit
Even though I’ve sometimes dismissed it
I still honor and fear it
I’ve emerged anew
Baptized by experience
And when it rains
I take a moment to hydrate my humanity
Quench the thirst of my sanity
With the hope of drowning my brutality
Under the waves of purity’s charity
And when it rains
I bask in the mist of love’s silhouette
Enraptured by the reflection of light playing on every bead of sweat
Finally drained of all regret
And then
It rains
Mr. Throwdoff Hisself
Emanuel Cole, also known as Mr. THROWD OFF. Right now, he’s basking in the glow of now having “published” under his name.
He never fell in love with poetry. In fact, he “pimped” poetry for a while, and just in the past couple years, began walking in love with it. The journey has been way more than worth the experiences it took to get here.
He sees poetry and the power he exudes through it as his way of putting the gutta on his shoulders and bringing it to a world that’s been snubbing it’s nose at it for far too long. Yeah, the sewer stinks. But the sewer is everything you waste. He wants to give it the sunlight it deserves.
He is blessed to be guided by some of the greatest people to ever touch air. Shoutout to all of my Tribesmates: “Aint Right but we Still Here!,” “Who Nekkid Up In Here?!”(NAKED MINISTRIES), FAMILIATARY (movin aggressive with a low key presence). He loves each and every one of them.
