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Poetry

The Revolution

Does The Revolution really sound like a whisper?

Or does she cry out, begging for a beginning?

 

Does she work silently at a desk six floors from the surface level?

Do you think The Revolution locks her doors at night?

 

Does The Revolution comply with posted parking signs?

Does she put on her high beams, illuminating the dark, slimy streets?

 

Does The Revolution smoke the reefer and swing in that “the summer’s blowing in” kind of breeze?

Does The Revolution ever walk the shoreline, listening for the ocean?

Do the waves ever give her sage advice?

 

Does The Revolution have a concealed carry permit?

Or is she armed with her own integrity?

Would it protect her?

 

Does The Revolution go to the gym and try to get jacked?

Does she ever wear dark sunglasses to hide the rings around her eyes?

Does The Revolution need glasses?

Can she even see right?

 

Does The Revolution paint her lips bright red?

Does she suck it in to squeeze into a size 4 pants when she’s probably actually a 6?

Is it just to accentuate her ass?

For whom?

 

Does The Revolution vote?

Does she think it even matters?

Does she stick with a party?

Or does she party too much?

 

Does The Revolution run screaming naked in the streets,

exposing her labia to the wary world?

Or does she put on a mask and ravage as a raccoon through the dumpsters?

 

Does The Revolution sing to herself?

Does she stand centerstage, absorbing all the light to her core?

Or does she dance on the sidelines, swirling her hips and twirling her hair?

 

Does The Revolution beat to her own drum or is she too busy beating everyone else’s?

Does The Revolution ever hold her babies, rock them, and tell them that everything will all work out?

 

Does The Revolution watch or look away when they put the needle in her arm?

Does she swallow the pills they give her with water or warm milk, to pretend that they soothe her?

Or does she hide the pills under her tongue and spit them out when no one’s looking?

 

Does The Revolution ever spend an hour in the mirror trying to stare into her own soul?

Does it work?

 

Is The Revolution just a figment of her impure imagination?

If The Revolution was standing right in front of you,

would you recognize her?

 

Would she even recognize herself?

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Breaking Rhyming Rules

IMG_1872 Below are a few pieces I’ve written recently. They’re loosely edited. Rough cut off the bone. The seasons and hopefully the times are a’changin. 

Fair warning: Language in the third poem is pretty heavy.



Joaquin

The cool night air
Drizzles sweat on my furrowed brow
As we are warned of impending floods
And ultimate doom
Your fingers play hop scotch
Across the medium strings
Never strong enough for your heavy hands
Ask the universe and you shall receive 
Is the mantra you say that I wish would always work for me
Trapped in my own multipotentiality behind the heavy keys of a day job
that could almost pay all  the bills
Except life’s too sweet to miss it on the shit side
While my windswept tears leave me on the dark side
Of space and dimes
Left face up
On the sills of the window of this future
Your dreams too abrupt
To imagine a day where all faith becomes sound and my lips
Move quickly not pursed on the ground
Of your ragged ass old white wet feet
Your heart is in the desire of the soul that you meet
To greet your everlasting fate
As you sit there twiddling thumbs of the soul that waits for guidance from the bleak skies above
The only meaning I could ever find in life was love
Enough Is enough you say
And that’s all right
There’s a feeling in the air that
We won’t bite
As we guide you through the matters unknown
Cast all your fears alive
And mark your heart in stone
Cause your naïveté isn’t cute any more
Your ignorance ignores what we’re all in for
As we step so timidly upon this precarious precipice
To days anew and songs unsung
All you got to say is what I’ve left undone


Fall

Sometimes it’s the sleep you didn’t get that can make you too depressed
As the cold winds of winter are ushered in
We tell ourselves spring will spring again soon enough
And our says of snuggles and cuddles beneath these covers
Meals of hot soup
The hope for a snow that strands us inside in each other’s arms
Are just enough to bite the bitter
Of the changing seasons
Every so slightly enough
To mean survival and solace
As we forget the days we’ve wasted away on cigarettes and numbers
These are just the few vices and devices to distract from
The pending future
Where we’ll skip in the sunshine
And get out our special tweety bird towels
For the possibility of sitting on the beach
Staring at the ocean we miss every day
We’ll start saving the pennies and quarters found on this dirty floor
Save up for the hope of what next summer may have in store


Awaken Your Life

By all means necessary
We stand at the forefront of the revolution
Don’t  let it be scary
Where your feet can’t move when
Your ass in your seat
Your only activism happens behind the keys
While you sit on your throne of privilege making
Assumptions of what you think I mean
When I tell you this life is about
Respect
And we can’t move forward unless we have regret
Where the sunshine smiles
When the babies dance
In these streets
Knowing it’s just fine for you to do you and me be me
Your fun won’t last if you do the math
The scores of whores and bores and more more more
Leave you in a deficit
I’m not an accountant
But I’ll still try to tell you this shit
while you sink right in to the consumption
And yet you still have the gumption
To smile at me when you look at my ass
Like we’re old time friends
And I’ll tell you to smack your damn self in the face
You should be ashamed
For being so fucking vain
And no this song ain’t about you
You don’t deserve it
Cause you’re just every other
Douche I meet every day
Fuck your system
But don’t fuck me
I’ll sit back and laugh
While you jerk off
Jerk off, what you thinking?
Tellin lies about these women
No I’m not talking about the waking life
But the life I wake in
About this life of strife
Where I got to treat
Every motherfuckin dick with suspicion
Cause my mama always told me to trust my intuition
But this isn’t just some feminazi
Bullshit
Because they’re still good men out there
You gotta learn to love yourself
Before you start spreadin all your love around to someone else
Some stranger who gives you the validation
Women– you’re the mothers of this whole fucking nation
Never forget
And always remember
When the nights get long
In mid December
That Mary made your Jesus Christ
And god wasn’t a man
that was just another literary device
To explain what we all know
Is unknown
To bury ourselves in another tomb
For  three very long days to say the least
Because we haven’t found this shit yet
We haven’t made our peace
Your screams will be silenced
In the cold dark night
As long as you keep getting yourselves distracted
By the wrong fucking fight
Because the powers that be
Don’t want you to ever believe that
We’re capable of coming together
That anyone will ever be listening
Don’t lose your voice
But don’t misuse it either
When it’s all said and done
I got the fuckin fever
To take what’s important
What’s rightfully mine
To leave you motherfuckers behind
And turn down the shine on my  pride
Maintain the hope that there’s still
Community
Cause unless you misheard me
Within that word contains unity
Yet you’ve so quickly forgotten
When you pick up your pitchforks
That the whole world is burning

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