{"id":1229,"date":"2014-08-23T09:27:01","date_gmt":"2014-08-23T13:27:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=1229"},"modified":"2014-08-23T13:54:33","modified_gmt":"2014-08-23T17:54:33","slug":"the-raging-and-consuming-war-of-the-poetics","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2014\/08\/the-raging-and-consuming-war-of-the-poetics\/","title":{"rendered":"The Raging and Consuming War of The Poetics"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Part 1<\/p>\n<p>She was 4 when she became aware of carnage, devastation and brutality;<br \/>\nshe came in through the breezeway,<br \/>\nthe red brick linoleum was sticky,<br \/>\nher grandmother was standing over the freshly cut sweet corn<br \/>\nsinging \u201cSweet Adeline\u201d ,<br \/>\nthe girl crossed from the threshold of the kitchen into the dining room,<br \/>\nreality stings like acid \u2013<br \/>\nher mother was towered viciously over her two year old sister,<br \/>\ncursing, slapping \u2013 the girl pulled on her mother\u2019s arm, \u201cSTOP!\u201d,<br \/>\nthe mother turned with her hand raised to begin wailing on another victim,<br \/>\nthe little girl tensed up, getting ready \u2013<br \/>\nthe mother hesitated \u2013 the little sister crawled away,<br \/>\nin a moment of clarity, the mother stomped off, cursing\u2026<br \/>\nthe girl went to her crying sister, red whelps over her tender skin,<br \/>\n\u201care you ok?\u201d<br \/>\nthe younger sister kicked the girl in the gut \u2013<br \/>\nher way of saying, \u201cI\u2019m fine, leave me to lick my wounds;\u201d<br \/>\nin those moments the poet was born,<br \/>\nthe girl suddenly became aware of wishing not being born,<br \/>\nand her bunker was created behind the red vinyl couch,<br \/>\nstill on the front lines,<br \/>\nstill vulnerable to the brutal sounds of war.<\/p>\n<p>&#8211; Michellia D. Wilson 8\/23\/14 8:20 AM part 1 of 24<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Part 1 She was 4 when she became aware of carnage, devastation and brutality; she came in through the breezeway, the red brick linoleum was sticky, her grandmother was standing over the freshly cut sweet corn singing \u201cSweet Adeline\u201d , the girl crossed from the&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":21,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1229","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1229","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/21"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1229"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1229\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1233,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1229\/revisions\/1233"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1229"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1229"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1229"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}