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This is Poetry:

I’m happy to say that I am participating in the Trifectawritingchallenge.com challenge this week with a poem aptly titled “This is Poetry”.  It’s a poem about what poetry is to me.  I hope you all enjoy and check out the wonderful community at Trifecta. 

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This is Poetry:   

The word gnaws on flesh and bone, feasts on the heart of things, sings from the gutter; “meat for the synagogue, cast on the pavement.”

This is Poetry:   

Knowing that we exist outside of our conditional mindset; we are more than the sum of our programs/we are more than the culmination of our experiences/we are more than we realize and more than we’d like to admit because then we might just have to take a handful of responsibility for our actions/we are more than a reaction to stimuli/

This is Poetry:   

Time does not exist as a measurable unit unless you build a structure in which you create that unit and, by doing so, create time itself.  I am time/I am outside of time/I am the new unit of measure.  I am just a human being making the noises of my species.

This is Poetry:   

The stars exhaust me, infinity makes me sad and darkness overwhelms me – but that can all be overcome by being present in the moment where there is nothing to fear; not even death, not even pain, not even loss or darkness or infinity or spiders.  Nothing.  Not in this moment.  This moment is my eternal poem.

This is Poetry:   

Hard hitting hindrance to silence’s reign of terror, to fear’s quest for control, to domination’s ivory tower, to oppression’s hidden agenda, to the elite’s propaganda machine, to the hot breath of the rapist, to the cool kiss of politicized death, to the tempest of tortured innocents, to the terror of walls built higher and higher, to my own soul’s darkest corners.

This is Poetry:   

Not a violent revolution, not a war, not a fight to the death, not a battle cry, not a mournful sob or an inhuman howl; but simple human love in honest light exposed for those who dare to witness it with fullness of sorrow and ecstasy/fully conscious monsters of humanity/WE/as one poet//compose the world into existence-

And this/is poetry…

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Posted by on March 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Fresh Out the Cave

Image

You do it to yourself

You blame your mental health

You blame your family, society

but never look inside to see

the surrealities that lie behind the seen.

The space behind your eyes, it seems

is full of lies, pipe dream and suicidal screams

that hide behind your pride,

and only serve to curse the hand you’re dealt.

You need to scream for help.

The fire that lights the sky

and brings tears to bloodshot eyes

fresh out the cave

can’t stand the brightness

pretend you like this

but in the darkness

your blindness was the standardized test.

You didn’t have to try

just catch the wave and ride it

no need to fight it.

Go with the current.

The lines get blurred then.

I know it sounds absurd

but what you hear can’t be unheard

so when I scream

that I’m an earthling

a mother-fucking Human Being

I wanna know you heard me

I wanna know you heard me

I wanna know you heard me

So I know that you know that I am free

as you are free.

Autonomously.

So speak,

and I will choose what to believe.
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Img found at http://cdn.c.photoshelter.com/img-get/I0000Ssq.Cb.YXC8/s/750/750/Belize-Cave-Tubing019.jpg

 
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Posted by on February 5, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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