Poetry / ramblings
Has what lies behind my eyes
become more frightening than anything
a television screen could bring?
A brain conjuring things unseen
and unlike any being.
A homeless man anxiously awaiting a warm meal,
carelessly tossed in a wastebasket too quickly.
A babies screams neighboring it’s tears
that flow like acid down his Rosen skin.
That skin born into a world
ready to experience life,
but abandoned by a mother
who swims in a pool of chemicals.
These chemicals that belong
in pipes of another sort.
Not in lungs
not in mind
they affect life of another kind.
On the streets where
we breath no clean air.
Inches from fellows and strangers
pickpockets and traitors.
Stolen identities
taken by friends who befriended me.
Becoming me.
Wearing the mask that I thought I could be.
Becoming a being
not capable of seeing
something so ugly,
I couldn’t recognize it as me.
The brown glass of a broken beer bottle
has burrowed into me,
staining my vision so now I walk blindly.
Is this the real world or just imaginary?
Have I been corrupted by billboards and neon signs?
News papers and silent wind chimes?
Silent not for the lack of wind
but fear to make a happy sound.
For the singing birds left long ago.
The traditions of a rooster waking
turns into a DJ screaming.
Radio waves crashing
brain waves slowing,
is violence the only thing worth knowing?
Murderers
slaughters
raped sisters by fathers,
and the house had such a nice façade!
Coverings,
the makings to hide what cannot be seen.
Problems cannot be fixed if first not acknowledged.
Talk me down from this ledge!
Illegible letters saying
“good bye,”
but cannot be read,
for our hands are shackled
freedoms dead.
Rotting is the carcass
smelling like burnt flesh.
But we do our best to ignore.
Its not ours so why care?
Dare we pick up our trash?
Dare we clean up our act?
Gutters flowing with the feces of our species,
sewers clogged
minds fogged.
Clouded thinkers
world leaders?
Poorer teachers
wealthy players.
Misplaced funds make children dumb.
Touch is numb
war is fun?
Killing brothers
robbing mothers of belongings.
Colleted offerings
sacrificing things to the gods we bring.
Come in peace
infested with disease
before you get your piece,
you must say please.
Pleased with only things valuable
illiterate to the intangible.
Cannot see
cannot touch,
it doesn’t exist
we know that much.
Flee from love.
Fear to feel.
Sell your soul.
Lets make a deal.
Deals dealt by devils dealers
dealing death
disguised as healers.
But healing nothing more than empty pocket books.
Crooks and wise men
Beaten wives and children
all living in an urban prison.
A spoon
a syringe
a rubber band
a binge.
Add a flame
make your body lame.
Crippled and careless
we prove our point with a fist.
No more talking just dead men walking.
For sinful syntax’s
make conversations attacks at his,
wellness.
Have yet to taste your greed?
Made yourself selfish?
Or hiding at home,
like a shell fish?
Scared of the world and what we’ve become.
Scare of our problems because of what we’ve done?
That is me,
that is I.
with these problems why do I not desire suicide?
Because I have hope
hope for the future,
hope for my children.
Hope that we can change and make things better for them.
Will now start my metamorphosis?
Can I start a composition of good things?
A synthesis?
These are our problems,
from my synopsis.
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Reviews
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Very deep, truth, sad, struggling hope. It was very good.
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I never review poetry, but this kind of--grabbed my eyes from their eye sockets and held them until I’d visually digested every word and idea so magnificently stated--caught my eye.
This has definitely got the bounce and rhythm of a really good performance piece. It’s dynamic, slowing down in places, sort of lingering like a feather in the wind just to explode with velocity in the next lines. Neat.
A babies screams / baby’s
“Have I been corrupted by billboards and neon signs?
News papers and silent wind chimes?” Great line.
“Touch is numb
war is fun?” Another one.
Overall a very relevant piece that touches the surface of many modern day realities, but doesn’t stick around on them for too long to reduce itself to pathetic pining. Tons of images and excellent timing. Good work. Thanks for sharing.
-Curt
I thought this piece was very well written..
Come in peace
infested with disease
before you get your piece,
you must say please. this was the only part i had a question about,and that is being very picky, but it stood out while i was reading, I can not give you a solution, only that the lines didn’t seem to fit as well together as the rest of the piece did.
Yes, yes, yes I love this monolouge, as an actor of sorts myself in that I hold a diploma in media and drama studies, and tended a Uni course for two years, I love to read stage set pieces like this, as it reminds me of my times on stages and writing, and re-writing scripts.
I found this very powerful.
Flee from love.
Fear to feel.
Sell your soul.
Lets make a deal.
Deals dealt by devils dealers
dealing death
disguised as healers.
Life is cruel and you dont sugar coat whats wrong. people make a stand? not really. Evil is good in the eyes of humans, but when faced with judgement we run and hide. hope is what we need.
“Wow” !!!! Could not stop until I reached the end….How poignant how true. Reading this poem gave me chills and moved me. Unfortunatly it is a sad and cruel world that has evolved around us and to retain any hope in the face of such overwhelming truths, is itself and amazing feat. This poem is thought provoking and inspiring. What lies behind the eyes of us all is best kept hidden our imagination can fill in the rest, the image can be as soft as we wish it to be.
Very insightful
This was indeed a powerful read. Definitely publishable!
You definitly have a great talent for words. I enjoyed this piece, it has a strong optimistic point. It made me really read it to understand what you are saying and to me that is good. saying that, i mean that its depth is just deep enough to make the reader focus on the writing yet still its clear enough to make sense. The intensity kept me pulled in and the joy of survival in it made me feel connected to you as well….thank you for sharing this.
I see the image your creating, but some colors are bold, and others so dim you can barely see them. It makes the picture unbalanced. For example, “Illegible letters saying ,’good bye,’ but cannot be read, for our hands are shackled freedoms dead,” is so powerful, it thunks you in the head. But then, the two lines you read together, “Is this the real world or just imaginary? Have I been corrupted by billboards and neon signs?” seem to take the reader away from the focus of growing up in a chaotic HOUSEHOLD and into the chaotic WORLD. I see how they are linked, but for the average reader who has never experience trauma, you have to present it one very small detailed bite at a time. Excellent imagery, just work on balance. shemetls
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