Disclamer: I will not put a disclaimer on this as I have no reason to...if I owned the teen titans or this poem I would not be on this FANFICTION sight would I...i.e. Fan (as in not the authour/creator) ect.....and fiction (as in fake/made-up...no truth behind) ect ect....so I am not putting a disclaimer on this....(mainly because im in a diplomatic mood....) sooo neeeeehhhhh :-P
I have never studied this poem but I couldn't help but love it once I randomly read it when I was board...this idea has just popped into my head for no apparent reason....though I am quite proud of this (and I have not yet found a poem fic I like :-S yet)...so here u go, a poem fic of island man by Grace Nichols...enjoy...
island man
Morning
and island man wakes up
it was still quite early when beast boy stirred. He was about to open his eyes when he stopped...if he listened carefully he could here it...it was times like this he was glad the tower was on an island...
to the sound of blue surf
in his head
he could here the sounds of the waves around him, he listened intently and sighed. He missed Africa, that he knew, every morning was the same...he could fool himself that he was still there...still on the shores that surrounded his village...
the steady breaking and wombing
he aloud tears to fall as
memory's came...slowly he curled up on his side....hoping this
morning would never end... wild seabirds
and
fishermen pushing out to sea
he remembered when he was young, 7 maybe 8. he was just sitting on the shores, watching the fisherman push out, ready for another day in paradise...
if he concentrated...
...he could still hear the seagulls screeching in the early morning sunrise...the wind slowly cooling his skin from the hot African sun...the smell of the fresh salty waters that opened up before him
...even the feel of the sand beneath his wanting fingers...
the sun surfacing defiantly
the pink mingled with a forget-me-not blue in the skys above... It seemed to call to him...
from the east
never forget....ill always be here...where ever you are.....never forget...
of his small emerald island
he opened his eyes and, for a second, he fooled himself, he fooled himself that his emerald walls were the emerald trees he had once called his home...
he always comes back groggily groggilysometimes....it
was good to be a fool....
he rose out of his warm covers, the warmth that he once felt at home...his true home...
Comes back to sands
he slowly got changed, but he just looked at his shoes...'not today' he thinks...'today i'm home'...he picks up his shoes and walks out his door...he relished in the feel of the carpet...its like sand...soft sand, under his rough hard feet...relaxing him after a day out at the docks...
of a Grey metallic soar
his hand rose at his side, as he aloud his hand to drag gently against the cold metallic walls...he closed his eyes...'like the side of our boat'...he thought...remembering, gathering equipment for the trip...it was just another trip...a study of the monkeys at the other side of the island....it was just another trip...
to surge of wheels
he listened carefully as the doors to the common room opened in front of him...the wheels that moved it, so much like the ones that moved the boat to the unforgiving waters...just another trip...
to dull North Circular roar
he walked towards the large windows...opening his eyes as he went...he could here the traffic it the city...the rumbling of the engines the same as his families vestal...the dulled hits as they start and stop...the sounds of the waves hitting the sides...falling side to side...the screeches of the wheels so much like his mothers...telling him...run...run...Garfield....RUN!!!...
he dropped his shoes as he walked...
muffling muffling
he stopped in front of the huge windows...he closed his eyes...everything dulled...the cars...the yells...his friends words as they tried to get him to talk...he lost the world as he aloud him mind to fall...deep into reminiscence....he sighed deeply as he opened his slowly aloud his eyes to open to the world...
his crumpled pillow waves
he looked out at the ocean, so much like his covers he lay in every morn...a world full of water...another drop wont hurt...he aloud a single tear to fall....almost unaware of his friends now rising towards him...
island man heaves himself
he wipes away the tear that all had seen...he lets a sigh escape from his dry parched lips...he turns to the ones whom worry for him, and smiles...they stop and stare at the island man knowing not his thoughts...he slowly turns his head back to the vast expanse that had took his attention only moments before...the sun was rising...never forget....just another trip...
Another London day
beast boy smiles and laths at there worries...he will tell them...one day....he smiles again as he remembers the poem he had read just the other night, one by Grace Nichols, what was it called?...he walked to the kitchen...he looked into the sink as he passed...a bowl, filled with the element that filled his dreams...he saw his reflection...he whispers I a native tongue non of the others know...'till tomorrow...island man'