*Easter Sunday~April 8th, 2007*
Dear Tony,
It’s been six years, love. SIX YEARS. (sigh) IT HAS BEEN 6 YEARS SINCE…
I saw you last, stone cold & pale-faced — but (probably) in your best suit
6 years since I got the call from Andrew
6 years since Cutie told the news I refused to believe until I heard it from Gabe
I said, it has been SIX LONG YEARS since
Your name first started appearing in local newspapers
Detailing the night you went to Vanessa’s house party
The night that that stupid ass fight broke out — & all because of a broken vase!
You know, the papers, they tried to twist the story around,
Said that your/our friends lied for you,
Like they were all in on some kind of conspiracy theory
I swear, I HATE the San Mateo Daily Journal for that!
But not as much as I hate Farmarz for bringing you to that party
Then, not doing a damn thing when it got down & dirty
Damnit, Tony
You always said he was bad news!
You even told me to stay away from him
So why, love?
Why did you have to start hangin’ around his punk ass?
All I ever heard about, after you started kickin’ with him,
Was you getting drunk, or getting into a fight,
& then, eventually, getting KILLED
OVER A G–DAMN, FUCKING VASE!!!
WHY, LOVE?
WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHYYYYYYY???
Because I’ve been askin’ myself that for the past 6 years, love
& everytime I start askin’, I end up with unstoppable tears,
& uncontrollable curses directed at my God
Interrogatin’ Him for answers I was never meant to find
But still, I find myself yellin’ at Heaven
Until my knees buckle & I fall to the ground
Poundin’ my fists to hurt Mama Earth
Because not even Her love could find a way to heal me
Baby love, I’m so confused
So caught up in the thought of you
‘Cause I’ve always thought that you
Would still be here…
I LOVE YOU, TONY.
For Always and Forever,
— Fairy Mary —
R.I.P. Anthony J. Tolua
May 10, 1982 – April 8, 2001
*** the above was NOT intended to be a spoken word piece or whatever, but down below is the last poem i wrote for him. it’s not the greatest or the best one i’ve ever written for him, but whatever.
R.I.P. Anthony J. Tolua
May 10, 1982 – April 8, 2001
“Sacrifice”
© December 18th, 2006 – 5:08 AM
i watch the clock tick & i think of you
truth
suspended between a vanishing line
and a dirty dime
tossed inside fountains that recite
promises of youth
BUT IT’S ALL JUST FUCKING USELESS
i keep on confusin’
what Socrates & Confucious said
because although their wise words
can bring comforting answers w/o a rhymed verse,
all i know is that you still lay your head
6 feet
below deep trenches
and God knows i’m still tryin’ to throw rocks & wrenches
at how you faced your fate
on April the 8th, 2-K-1
and how a family had to add the loss of a shining sun.
and it may not have been thru a shiny gun,
but in the end, it’s still a killin’.
damnit, i
wish i was there to catch the feelin’
of kitchen blades engravin’ their way into your body.
i swear, baby—
i would’ve had you, like you always got me.
i said, i would’ve gotten you to leave,
or at least, stepped in the line
when things got too violent & i
would’ve made damn sure that a funeral
wasn’t the plan made on April 0-9.
oh, i
yes, i
’cause you know i…
i’ve watched this clock tick & pass years
and i’ve watched all your loved ones shed tears
yeah, and i still—
i mean, i know we ALL still
try to sneak a peak & glance in the rearview
naively hopin’ that maybe we’ll just
happen to see you in full view
maybe in your favorite blue jeans
or maybe in leis against a Hawaiian scene
and maybe makin’ Hail Mary plays on the big screen,
like Friday Night Lights turned into
Rose Bowls & gold rings for an NFL MVP
oh love, i said,
i wish i was there to catch those jagged edges,
and not just because you wouldn’t have done any less.
oh no, Tony,
i wish i was there
because i’d STILL sacrifice my last breath
just to make sure you were given new light.
i swear, i’d STILL put it ALL on the line.
God knows i would trade places &
give up all of the being that’s mine,
so long as you would just come back to life.
oh yes,
i would sacrifice me for you,
and i would be happy to,
said, i would STILL be the first,
’cause i’m still the first to curse
God that you no longer got time.
R.I.P. Anthony J. Tolua
May 10, 1982 – April 8, 2001
