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Poems - beautiful poets
| | beautiful poetsby brownbwi
we are hardly the beautiful poets
of past generations, that wrote
the sonnet and the sestina to
the crackle of ocean tides,
the serenity of barley fields
and church courtyards
we are the unnatural deformed norm.
poets at the end of some evolutionary cycle,
one step away from walking on all fours,
possessing the scales and horns
that in safety, early earth had us bore
-and we are anything but beautiful
our words don't dance on page in
colorful hyperbole. our words aren't
translatable or prefaced by poetic professors
they will never be honored or win pulitzers
they sit hunched over with potbellies,
bad posture and thuggish glares
always asking: what the fuck are you staring at?
our poems are the bird droppings of
city pigeons and oily headed crows that
take shape in stigmata images under eaves
that old women, holding rosary beads pray over in rote
-but they are anything but pretty
hand in hand, we are what grows
from the cracks in sidewalk pavement:
the defiant dandelion and wildweed,
the projectile cigarette butt and city stench
we are the battered children of war,
the homeless refugees of gutted ghettos
and crack tenements.
the products of everything broken:
lost loves and battering abusers
and we are not poets by choice,
we write verse with the blood
collected on our fingertips
some fucked up guidebook for
our children to survive by
some of us are limbless, without tongues to speak
and our skin bears the markings of
veteran warriors with barely a reason to live
other than to pen stories for eager eyes to read
some might call this poetry, we don't give
a fuck what you call it, but god please just read it!
we instinctively clutch to our chest
things we find dear. the things we grab
for at the sign of our homes burning:
our children, our pictures, our shit riddles,
and circular conspiracy theories, our words
that run up the borders of soiled newsprint
these things only beautiful to us and no one else
..but they are ours and maybe yours someday
-we are anything but beautiful, our words
are anything but beautiful but we are who we are
we are what our world has subjected us to
and we are as ugly as she is
but our poems, will somehow evolve
way past our death. these words will
ride the chrysalis of time, our words
are what beauty will be one day to our
grandchildren... only then will we be beautiful
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| "beautiful poets" | Login/Create an Account | 5 |
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| The comments are owned by the poster. We aren't responsible for their content. |
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Amazing poem! It is
(Score: 1 )
by Blondie on Thursday, August 23, 2007 (19:27:50) |
Amazing poem! It is beautiful to me!!
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this is the way i se
(Score: 1 )
by Mayo on Wednesday, August 29, 2007 (07:19:49) |
this is the way i see so many of the poets that i listen to today at the poetry venues that i go to. i love, love, love the potbelly line.
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A superbly written p
(Score: 1 )
by Bogeyman on Monday, February 25, 2008 (09:07:36) |
A superbly written poem - emotional analysis where every word is true...  B.
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you know what , i wa
(Score: 1 )
by anna9 on Monday, February 25, 2008 (11:23:17) |
you know what , i was thinking "how can he say that , why does he say that ....", till i reached thel ast verse of the poem , and i am grinning .... beaut !
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I really enjoyed the
(Score: 1 )
by jesster on Monday, February 25, 2008 (12:17:31) |
I really enjoyed the sentiment and the flow. Stylistically, it is exactly what I like to see in poems I read. Great story, great descriptions, and it ties up nicely in the end. Loved it!
 Added on: 23-Aug-2007 | Hits: 825 |
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01: wordsmithwan...
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