Melt the chain, let it
wholly unravel, snip
the cord, bite off
the comment.
Pleaser no more.
Standing in the face
of condescending
email, withering
expression of distaste,
no longer struggling
with worry about
the letter grades other
mortal beings form.
No longer straining
to reach A plus.
There comes a time
when you are who you
are
People decide who they
are too
Forget the politics
the pretty shows, the fireworks
all the flowing words
Forget the backyard parties
rife with rumor and dissent
There comes a time when
it is like it, lump it
this is who I am.
Listen kid,
you will never grow into yourself.
There will be days
where your skin is on too tight
and the sound of your own voice
guts you like all those blades
you wielded against yourself at 15
and love will always feel like something you don’t deserve
and the truth is
just because you made it this far
doesn’t guarantee you tomorrow
but it doesn’t make it any less necessary
to fight like hell to get there
little things saved you then,
why not let them save you now.
What is it most ask,
Do, think,
Or don’t?
It’s doing what you love
Not loving what you do,
Living to work
Not working to live,
Free will,
Your choice.
Superior to our lumped hard sand
lies a free-spirited moon
far from all the world’s troubles
giving a laconic smirk of laughter.
Why did you not carry us
away from grief and despair?
For now we eat from our feet
and drink from our necks.
Our children know no mercy
yet our ancestors are free
our parents weak and tired
yet we ourselves are bare.
Oh, curse you wicked moon
for even the sun agglutinates our sufferings
compelled to tell when chores begin
compelled to reveal the dark surface that lies beneath us all.
But don’t you worry
for you will rue the day you showed yourself beyond our reach
revenge is for those who have nothing but hate
filling them up with schemes and plans.
For now we lie here trapped
away from the breeze that visits you
yet you so far from the torture that beats us
our day shall come moon. Our day shall come.
I’m contemplating the effects of these memories
the effects of these sounds and situations forever surrounding me.
I’m considering the boundaries and borders encircling my brain,
burdens as bombs exploding in the midst of my mind,
systems stifling my sanity
stealing every semblance of my common senses.
I’m sitting in the middle of my own silence
contemplating emancipation,
searching for a freedom that no society could present
longing for real liberty and a perpetually distant paradise.
I’m drowning again in useless memories
and a barrage of the irrelevant and unnecessary,
still searching for a freedom that I may never find,
devoured by a dream that I shouldn’t live with,
dwelling in an existence that I shouldn’t try to define…
More at https://formuchdeliberation.wordpress.com/tag/poetry/.
You left me knocking at
the door cold below
your banner proclaiming
love.
You did not notice me
or care even when I tried
to offer you my gift twice.
Three times, four.
Maybe more.
You sent me away
with looks and disdain,
judgment and agenda.
This is how it always is
with you.
Proclaiming you are love
on earth – I can see my
breath in your proclamation.
I will strike out
on my own, find out what
love really means.
A wandering pilgrim trying
out the path.