ISBN-10:
1452080100
ISBN-13:
9781452080109
Pub. Date:
Publisher:
. . . And My Soul Cried Out!

. . . And My Soul Cried Out!

by Nate Booker

Paperback

$21.49
View All Available Formats & Editions
Choose Expedited Shipping at checkout for delivery by Wednesday, September 29

Overview

Sit back... are you ready... for this journey? I wasn't. When I first read Nates work, I was blown away...head spinning.. heart beating..emotions flowing. Immediately I thought this is a beautiful mind, truly, and I wanted more, and more. I wanted to read more, experience more. I wanted to know where does this genius come from? It comes from Nathaniel Booker, Sr. the Man, the Father, the Husband, Brother, Uncle, Son, the Poet, my Friend. It's so amazing the talent that lies within...but how blessed we are to have Nathaniel willing to share. Thank you Nate for sharing you gift with us!

As we, you, take this journey, I will just say, hold on... or not... either way... Nate's ability to touch your heart and soul will prevail and you will for ever know the genius of Nathaniel Booker Sr.

Thank you Nate..........

Debbie Holden, forever touched by the genius of You



Related collections and offers

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781452080109
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Publication date: 11/01/2010
Pages: 228
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.52(d)

First Chapter

... And My Soul Cried Out!


By Nate Booker

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Nate Booker
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4520-8010-9


Chapter One

    Lonely

    Lonely is a single traveler
    on a dark and winding road.
    Lonely is the burden
    of carrying a heavy load.

    Lonely is a beautiful song
    that no one's ever heard,
    and lonely is the wait for death
    by a broken wing'ed bird.

    Lonely is an elderly man
    waiting patiently for death
    and the medicinal sound of
    the life support machine
    that assists his every breath;
    And lonely is a place I know
    where there are no lovers left.

    Lonely is the emptiness
    inside my hollow soul,
    and lonely is the sound of the wind
    blowing through its gaping hole.

    Loneliness is second only
    to the darkened void of death
    and loneliness is taking
    that 'Right' to Hell
    when I should have made a 'Left'.

    Lonely is the sound
    of an infant
    who sadly cries in vain,
    and lonely is his addict mother
    shooting poison in her veins.

    Lonely is the boy
    who will never become a man
    and lonely is the brink of disaster
    upon which I know I stand.

    Lonely is the poem
    which has gone on long enough
    and lonely is the sympathizers
    who say I've, 'had it rough'.
    Lonely is my life
    lived without family or friend
    and lonely is the last word of this poem
    because it's always at the ...

    End.


    B.C.S.

    Looking back through the windows of my mind,
    to a time where pain comes often,
    I see a beaten, battered and broken child,
    a child that love had forgotten.

    I can clearly see his body
    as it is shattered by another,
    And sadly I realize the pain he endures
    is inflicted by his mother.

    His shrill voice screams in agony
    as he writhes in utter pain.
    His life force slowly ebbing away
    as he buckles from the strain.

    His lifeblood splatters everywhere,
    it even spatters on the wall.
    Although family members are in the room,
    no one answers his call.

    They hold him while he's beaten
    by his arms and both of his legs,
    While the slippery mixture of sweat and blood
    forces them to reach for rags.

    Shuddering in tears and writhing in pain,
    in his own blood he was submerged.
    No attempts were made to comfort him,
    still today, no one says a word.

    And now as a man I always think back
    and still I see that boy in sorrow.
    I long to comfort and hold him and say it's okay,
    but it will all be the same tomorrow.

    B = Battered
    C = Child
    S= Syndrome


    Home Sad Home

    Inside my heart there is a place
    that's cold and wet and dark,
    the carpet's all worn and the curtains are torn,
    and you can't even light a spark.

    Each step that you take you'll hear the floor 'creak',
    these are the sounds of wear and tear.
    The wind whistles shrill on the windowsill,
    searching for love that no longer is there.

    The fireplace burns dimly,
    giving off not heat nor light,
    you can kindle a spark or stoke it,
    but you won't see a more dismal sight.

    And on the walls that line the halls
    are frames of picture frames removed,
    the scenes were erased and the joy was displaced,
    and the dreams of love diffused.

    Did I mention the 'Unwelcome Mat?',
    it's the main reason my heart is alone;
    love sways and plays but it never stays,
    and my heart is a home sad home.


    Empty

    I see the scenes that are my life
    emerge and disappear;
    Reminding me of the way things were,
    and the joy that once was here.

    I've never been one to flaunt myself
    or to boast when I'd achieve,
    for life can have you thinking you've won,
    only to find you've been deceived.

    But the one thing I took for granted
    is the thought your love would stay;
    But now you've gone and I was wrong,
    such a very high price to pay.

    My nights have no more music,
    my days have no more song.
    The color fades as time evades,
    this heart that for you longs.

    One hundred degrees in the summer,
    but still I'm here freezing to death.
    Loving you is the song that for me now is gone,
    and emptiness is all that's left.


    Suffering

    Once upon a shattered dream,
    in a realm of stone and steel,
    there's a child whose pain is endless,
    and her nightmares are all too real.

    She always smiles no matter what,
    and she laughs amid her peers,
    but her smile is merely a veil she wears,
    in an attempt to hide her tears.

    How long must this child suffer,
    and will there ever be an end,
    will her heart ever shake its loathsome load,
    so her happiness can begin?

    She has tasted the many pains of life,
    she's cried herself to sleep,
    she's tried to build on her goodness within,
    so her life won't seem so bleak.

    Once upon a dream deferred,
    where the rainstorms never cease,
    this precious child from this life has left,
    at long last she now knows peace.


    But

    Trying to run
    BUT
    Unable to hide.
    Want to escape
    BUT
    Trapped inside.
    A fool I have been,
    BUT
    Unable to change.
    Doomed to accept this,
    BUT
    It just feels so strange.
    Life's passing me by,
    BUT
    I'm unable to check it.
    A photographic memory is my blessing
    BUT
    I so very much regret it.
    I have so much love in my heart,
    BUT
    No one to receive it.
    Don't want to accept this truth,
    BUT
    I'm cursed to believe it.
    I can hope for better,
    BUT
    I'll be hoping in vain.
    I can pretend, I can hope, I can practice and pray,
    BUT
    This is the way it always ends for me, and this is the way it will
    Stay ...

    BUT


    Me

    How do I say
    what's here in my heart,
    when I'm so sure that no one
    will hear me?

    How can I be sure that
    what I'm feeling is real
    when so many times my heart
    has deceived me?

    What path do I follow,
    do I go left or turn right,
    and how do I release from the darkness
    what has been shunned from the light?

    Who will believe me,
    when at times I have doubt,
    when I'm comfortable not having
    what I've lived so long without?

    Pain is the ingredient
    that salts my tears,
    and bittersweet are the memories
    that I've carried for years.

    They've taken root in my heart
    and choked out all emotions,
    chasing away the chance of having
    true love and devotion.

    So I sit here alone,
    I stand here forgotten;
    my stomach, my heart
    are both hollow
    and rotten.

    How do I face what I fear most in my life,
    and that is my own reflection,
    my pain and my strife,
    and the fear of a past that cuts
    like a knife?

    So I'll be alone in the crowd,
    living out loud but dying inside,
    drowning in my own silence
    with no place to hide.
    no one will hear me,
    and no one will see,
    the heartache and heartbreak
    of just being ...

    Me


    The Eternal Flame

    No matter what I do,
    true peace I'll never know,
    and though I plant my seed of love,
    true love will never grow.

    I've live my life in a wasteland,
    I've been forced to eat the dust.
    Deceived by mother, father and sister,
    there's been no one I truly could trust.

    I've never had the pleasure of seeing the sun,
    my days have always been night.
    I've never known a moment of peace,
    my life has been a perpetual fight.

    I wish my darkest wishes
    on every star I see,
    and every night I pray to God
    to set my lonely soul free.

    No matter what I attempt to do,
    my dreams shall all be lies,
    I slowly fade from the light of this life,
    and my Eternal Flame slowly dies.


    My Reality

    I have a smile but
    can't cast it;
    It feels much better
    to frown.
    I have a song but
    can't sing it;
    Afraid to turn up
    the sound.
    I have a heart but
    can't feel it;
    It seems its beating
    has stopped.
    I long to soar with the eagles
    but I know I'll land with
    a flop!

    I long to come from
    the shadows,
    but I fear my own joy.
    I long for the light
    as a man,
    but I can't abandon
    the boy.
    He clings to me,
    needs me
    he weeps in my
    arms;
    So it's my
    responsibility to keep him
    from harm.

    How can I feel happy
    when I know that he's
    sad?

    I can't take away his
    suffering
    and that makes me so mad.

    Mad at the life
    he was forced
    to live,
    mad over choices
    Made
    that were never
    his
    Mad about the lessons
    he was forced
    to learn,
    mad about the
    bruises, the beatings
    and burns.
    Mad over the tears
    that he cried
    and cried;
    Upset that his blessing
    was a blessing
    denied.

    The right choice is sweet
    and full of
    joy and delight;
    But for me it's the
    wrong one,
    it's been a hell of
    a life!
    "Look to the future,
    so many have said,"
    but how can I when
    I can't escape
    what goes on in
    my head?

    These things I can't
    change,
    this much I
    know,
    so if I plant him
    a seed,
    do you think
    understanding
    will grow?
    He needs this, I crave
    this
    Before we grow old,
    for the Little Boy's
    salvation
    and for the sake of my
    soul.

    No pen was used to write
    this
    so that you can see
    that this is My
    Reality,
    the essence of
    Me.


    Scarred

    The horseshoe on my inner thigh,
    reminds me that nothing's changed.
    The burn mark on my forearm is the roadmap of my pain.

    The rip across my shoulder hurts more and 37 that it did at 7,
    a reminder to me that seven's unlucky, and for me, so was eleven ...

    Scarred

    Oatmeal I will never eat, I'm even haunted by its scent,
    as punishment had me eating it raw, that's how my childhood went.

    Someone came and asked me,
    "Why can't you just let go?"
    I tried that once, I swear I did,
    but the more I try, the more it shows ...

    Scarred

    I had a full prescription,
    and misery in my heart.
    I took each and every single pill,
    so from life's pain I could depart.

    But the blessing of death eluded me,
    the curse of life would persist;
    It held more suffering for me to endure,
    and I was powerless to resist.

    Scarred

    Months confined inside a room
    not much bigger than a cell;
    No more beatings or bruises or profanities,
    but still a walk through hell.

    Life is rough for a foster child,
    and even harder when the Foster's family.
    I prayed to God but he never answered my prayers,
    either that or he refused to save me.

    ... (And even though I'm grown now) ...

    At night I wake up weeping,
    as my pains live in my dreams,
    I wake up in a sweat with the sheets soaked wet,
    when will I be redeemed?

    From the pain and from the trauma,
    the internal reminders;
    Then endless fears of those haunted years, that constantly reappear.

    The caterpillar cocooned,
    but when the butterfly emerged ...
    It was battered and broken, bruised and charred,
    like me, it too ...

    Is scarred


    Void

    Icy!
    And freezing,
    my poor frigid heart,
    cold and alone
    it survives in the dark.

    Isolated!
    Far removed
    from paradise lost
    nearly frozen to death
    and covered with frost ...

    Swirling!
    Dust particles
    encased in my frozen tears
    a shattered existence....
    an unheld hand
    the dying's last stand...

    Void!

    Dreaming!
    What dream?
    Life is an 8mm
    home movie
    stored on rusted reels;
    The countdown to doom
    4 ... 3 ...
    2 ... 1 ...

    Screaming!
    Crying!
    Crumbled!
    And crushed!
    Can't laugh!
    Can't smile!
    I'm returning to dust!

    Rapture's release,
    guilty as charged.
    Shards of despair,
    reality's gun
    just discharged ...
    Falling!
    Endlessly, aimlessly,
    erased and displaced.
    Hollow and hurting
    hunted to the last ...

    There'll be no release,
    the dye has been cast,
    no hope for the future,
    'cause I can't run from the past

    No feeling!
    I'm reeling!
    Always yearning,
    though never learning!

    Returning
    to
    The Void ...


    Misery

    Once upon a shattered dream,
    in a realm of stone and steel,
    there's a child whose pain is endless,
    and her nightmares are all too real.

    She always smiles no matter what,
    and she laughs amid her peers,
    but her smile is merely a veil she wears,
    in an attempt to hide her tears.

    How long must this child suffer,
    and will there ever be an end,
    will her heart ever shake its loathsome load,
    so her happiness can begin?

    She has tasted the many pains of life,
    she's cried herself to sleep,
    she's tried to build on her goodness within,
    so her life won't seem so bleak.

    Once upon a dream deferred,
    where the rainstorms never cease,
    this precious child from this life has left,
    at long last she now knows peace.


    Denied

    Once upon a broken heart,
    where teardrops fall like rain,
    there was a boy trapped in the body of a man,
    and his soul was filled with pain.

    In his mother's eyes he wasn't a gift,
    but rather a means to vent her anger;
    shunned for simply existing,
    in a house where he lived as a stranger.

    He did everything he could to win her praise,
    but still it never came;
    instead there were beatings and crushing blows
    and his heartache was a burning flame.

    I see this little boy,
    I hear the tears he's crying,
    it's hard to believe that at a loved one's hands,
    this child of God is dying.

    Maybe it just wasn't his time,
    and he was born in another's place.
    Maybe time will give him what his childhood denied,
    the gift of love in a friendly face.

    But I hope that it comes soon,
    because he's been waiting for quite a while;
    living in misery and hoping in vain,
    broken by his mother's denial.

    Denial of existence and denial of love,
    never knowing his mother's embrace.
    I see this young boy, he cries all the time,
    in the mirror I always see his face.

    Once upon a broken heart,
    a little boy died inside;
    never knowing the sweetness of being loved and adored,
    he sadly faded away ... denied.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from ... And My Soul Cried Out! by Nate Booker Copyright © 2010 by Nate Booker. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Part I Abused and Depressed....................xv
Part II Finding Love....................31
Part III Being in Love....................63
Part IV Losing Love....................109
Part IV Loss of a Loved One....................151
Part V Inspirational....................161

Customer Reviews