Wednesday, December 24, 2008

head, brain, mind. (poem 14 of the 30/30)

Poetry had asked me to write it
So here I am typing
Envelope in one hand
Stamp on my tongue
Microphone wire gripped between my teeth

I’m sorry I pimped you
Fingered your bindings
Got you nice and open
Then had them score you

I am a liar
Never did I intend for you to run freely
I’ll admit
I was going to use the shit out of you
Have you perform orally
For the world to see
Over and over again

We performed alliteration
Over on allegory
He met you on all your fours
While we symbolized repetition on him
Using hand gestures
And by his tone I could tell he liked it

He said “baby that was good”
But when I asked him if he could criticize our actions
There were just stutters and stammers
No reading comprehension

This is what a poet is supposed to sound like
Voice boxes like instruments
We play harmonies of metaphors
Bellow our mouths for vowels
And lip lock for consonant sounds

I promised you America
Wrapped in sixteen bars
Two words
Or a suggestive motion
Buck Fush or the Bird
Or Both
Song and Dance
Of struggle
Voices loud enough
To beat on the drums of ears

And all I delivered were dramatic pauses
Bright lights
And an audience
Who couldn’t comprehend you

So I’m asking you to take yourself back
Wrap yourself around ears of true listeners
Paper cut Barnes and Nobles cult members
Force the youth to swallow you whole
It doesn’t matter how you annihilate the masses
Score Cards
And the latter

Just as long as their revived with pentameter
And Sincerely you.



BlueBelle said...

This reminds me of a quote from a hiphop dvd...

'Wil I go to hell for prostituting Gods gift?'

...makes you think. Doesn't it?

Ziggy Za. said...

Pimping poetry...excellent metaphor!

Healingprose said...

I agree with Ziggy. This is fire.

Michael DeAntonio said...